An observation, perhaps naive, but really wholly innocent, on women travellers: 

The girls I have met while backpacking in SE Asia fall into a few categories. 

There are the european girls, lithe and golden and tan, floating through the islands of Thailand and the rivers of Laos like angels. They are scantily clad, unimaginably beautiful, but in their eyes I think they are empty, naive. They are on holiday from Sweden, on easter break from London. 

we stand anchored to our vanity, eyes wide all jealous and shit.

and then there are the earthen women who trod in the mud of Asia and bloom like lotuses. They are fleshy and beautiful, their eyes shining with earnestness, overflowing with a simple kindness and love for the people here. they are brimming with stories, absolutely jubilant and joyful. 

i wonder, should i be like that when i return to america? should i be so bright-eyed and optimistic? 

brain is too scattered to contemplate all this. is destroyed. no words anymore. sigh sigh sigh.

SOMEONE someone someone please throw me up into the sky.

i swore when i first fell i dropped my cellphone and also my keys.

gotta get it back yo.

metaphorically speaking of course.

torrential downpour of thought driving me half insane. sitting here in the 圖書館 just doin chinese and going slowly surely mad, the way a feather falls. 

so much work to do. where did this insatiable hunger for fuckin around come from cuz man i been dickin around like no other. i am supposed to like school.

when did this become hard? the day i was disillusioned by this system. the day they labelled me a rebel and tossed me out the gates of studiousness forever.

the day i went jumped on the crazyhorse and never stopped riding.

weeeeee neurosis psychosis i am a small afraid thing wrapped beneath your beating wings. yes yes yes yes yes weeeeeeeeeee.

am perched on a precipice, surely.

no matter where i am i have this feeling like i just want to scream and scream and scour clean my filthy insides.

watching old red hot chili peppers shit and i'm missing cali like a motherfucker. i wanna drive in that cheap gold sunlight, buzz by those cheap ass buildings, cheap ass dirt and cheap ass trees, the superficiality of it all suddenly seeping into my bones like jumping in an ice cold bath. this is home bitch, this is home. 

man on a pallet man on a pallet man on a pallet in a monastery east of here woke up one day to find he had been lied to. there was no god nor clergy nor blessed water in that cold stone place only he and the rats and the rotted straw over which he lay. 

shorty let me tell you about my only vice it's got to do with lots of lovin and it ain't nothin nice

it ain't nothin nice

it aint nothin nice.

almost have the internet set up. yay yay yay yaaay.

been jonesing for good musick, good cigarettes, good people, a cloud of wondrous bliss, et al.

fail. fail. fail.

went for thai today with john and ted. ted is a local i like immensely, as he is quite chill, and john reminds me of my brother a little, as all gawky young men do. he's had two lung surgeries and a bevy of health problems, but he likes oblivion and odd musick. good in my book eh.

bah bah bah bah bah bah bah bah bah.

mgmt is win.

help me i am failing mentally. i have no more mind left. i opened the door upstairs last night to find i had been robbed, and everything had been torn asunder. all the furniture lay in disarray, all my bedsheets took, the lamps broken, the photographs were all of strangers.

maybe i ought to read more.

just went out for a smoke with james. the cigarette becomes a timer for the amount of time i've got to spend with him before he disappears again. it sucks to come over here and to still be tied down to the land you came from.

though i suppose i ought to be too.

but i won't be. i won't be tied down anywhere. despite the nagging in my head and the hollow aching in my heart, i shan't. i won't.

bought a chain today. i just want to be a tough dyke, now don't i. look at the little asian girl.

who do i think i am. ellen degeneres.

lord and lord and lord and all the heaven You encompass where do i stand on this lonely planet. where do i stand.

who do i think i am. you tell me that because thinking is not what i have been doing lately. i have been drifting in the wind. i have been floating in the haze above kowloon like a spectre, like a mote of carbon dust.

wake up. wake up. wake up.

so had strange dream about the one back home. strangely satisfyingly and explicitly sexual in a way that woke me up all kinds of puzzled, like why in the world would make me dream that way? except maybe that i had some sheesha all curled up like a tongue in my lungs and it somehow evokes his memory in a curious fashion.

listening again to d. banhart. makes me all warm and fuzzled.

slower than slow here, as i've not even showered and it's 2:02 in the afternoon. everyone is already out with trista and i'm not particularly bothered about going. i'll shower and call them later. oh but what to wear hair and nails and all that jazzzzzz.

feeling oddly in a dream, as always but enhanced by the fact that i have uprooted myself completely from all that is real and all that is important in my life. i feel that nothing i do here is of real consequence, and so am freed.

i'm trying to remember emmanuel, all brown limbs and wild hair, all curled up against me like the way things used to be, that eternal feeling. i failed to remember it, and i sat there on my hard bed summoning up tears from my belly to water down that shameful emptiness.

que reste-t-il de nos amours?

an old picture, church bells, suitcase to a small town on a holiday last june. yes.

ahhhhhhhh i question the meaning of love. i question what it means to say you love someone, to say they complete you when it's so easy to drop it and run. when it's so easy to wake up feeling this kind of empty and this kind of free.

to feel this kind of small and meaningless. i'm a dust mote, i'm a gnat. i'm a human being with wants and wants and wants and nothing to need. and he and i, well we're just two lonely people, two great big empty maws with insatiable hunger.

fuck i used to be so innocent and i used to think that love contained the goodness in people but really it is the rumbling hunger of our hearts. it is the twang of need in the flitting feeling of our groins.

or is that lust. or is that love. or is love lust cushioned in the pity of god.

who knows anymore. i want smoke and i want pain. i want to stop and wake up for once. goddamn.

someday will probably look back in shame.

so am still alive, finally found way to get on the internet at least on the express terminals. apparently getting internet on my own laptop is tedious and laborous process. have no time for it at least until.... sunday? haa.

i don't even know what day it is. wednesday? wednesday. Monday night went to wondrous hotpot restaurant and stared in amusement as a hoard of foreigners clumsily grasped at their food with chopsticks and blankly pondered the strange eats. afterwards went to billy boozers, a local pub, where they served exasperatingly expensive alcohol but everyone got drunk anyway. met wonderful people. stayed out till 4. still managed to shower before passing out. last thought: who the fuck did i make friends with??

last night went to ridiculously expensive rice pot restaurant which was only so-so. wandered the night market which was interesting but nothing i've not seen before. what was curious was the farther along we went we started to see little dildo booths popping up, sparse at first but then multiplying until we couldn't go two booths without seeing uncomfortable images of anonymous asses clad in used thong underwear and gyrating, pulsating sex toys.

everyone else went to a club after i guess but the few stragglers i was with decided to hang out elsewhere, first going to bahama mama's for expensive fruity shit cocktails and then wandering victoria harbour looking at the wonderful sparkling skyline. we all realized then and there, aw fuck we live here.

tried to find billy boozers again but failed. took cab back to school where we found our crazy friend lily hanging with guy from texas isaac. i turned in early as was dead tired.

going to happy valley tonight. don't know if i'll enjoy it as i still am tired. tomorrow must drop off the old ladies at the airport which will be an uncomfortably emotional situation i am loathe to participate in. my mum has been terribly grabby today. ugh.

this morning got the brilliant idea to listen to devendra banhart on my little ipod as i was leaving for mong kok. instantly i felt well and whole again. maybe the sound of the city, all rushed and lonely and isolated, is making me feel so.

i really truly hate large groups and if given any kind of choice would probably rather stick to solitude. somehow making small talk with strangers is more lonely, as if i can now see how lonely and small i really am.

on the to-do list:

have got to deal with that whole 'being socially inept' problem. not going to get me anywhere in hk.

today a lady asked me where she could find wong tai sin. in cantonese. i think i turned bright red trying to grate out enough chinese to make sense. i feel quite embarassed because half the time they think i'm a local. ugh. anyway.

won't post again till i've got photos for you all. see you then.

two updates in a day means i'm deathly bored.

and feeling a tad unwell. i tried to have an american breakfast this morning at our usual chinese porridge place and was disappointed.

a) shit was about 19 dollars, which is expensive considering that a bowl of porridge is only $13.

b) bacon was half-cooked and stringy. i still wolfed it down. <--not exactly picky.

c) i think the bacon made me ill. 

that or all the hk greasy street food is partying in my belly. not fun.

When you live in a place like HK, I have decided it is best to locate your nearest market where you can find shit to cook in your room or fruit to eat, as I'm already feeling like I got machine grease injected into my veins. I've got this ridiculously delicious salmon en papillote recipe you can cook on a sheet of tinfoil in a microwave that I intend to utilize at least some of the time here. Cuz while it's not cheaper than street food, I reckon it sure is gonna be healthier.

There's a lot of South Asians here. I want to talk to them about how they came to be, how they find Hong Kong life, what are their thoughts on this or that. I want to talk to people! My mother is not allowing, as strangers lurk about every corner waiting to rape a young foreign thing. But every local I meet tells me the same thing, so the danger must really be there, a long shadow with an insidious owner around the corner somewhere.

Also drink a shitload of water, kids. These toxins and chemicals in the air and in the greasy food require much to flush it out. And you walk EVERYWHERE in this town, sitting only for the odd taxi cab ride, a seat on the subway si tu as de la chance. Don't get dehydrated in this enchanting cesspool :P

 

You know, when I was in Macau, all of a sudden, I heard Edith Piaf's clear and glorious voice trumpeting to my left. And though it was only two ballroom dancers having at it at the bottom of a staircase in front of a crowd of tourists, I was envigorated. Music will ground you when you are lonely and abroad. I feel like Thumbelina all wrapped up in her mother's great big hand when I'm listening to the soft and subtle notes of Wutang Clan's Shame on a Nigga.

We have quite run out of things to do insofar as these old ladies can handle. All day yesterday we waded through a sea of boot and leg in the Fa Yuen Street Market. Bought me a great big handbag to fill bricks with in case I get manhandled. Also bought sheets, as the university's not providing.

Found knitting heaven at Fa Yuen Market. Saw several booths selling nothing but novelty yarns and any kind of needles and stitch markers and gauges and *glazes over* I mean, I guess it's not like silk yarn or merino or anything but I could die here. Happy. That's a whole other blog though.

Need to get hangers, and all other kinds of amenities. When studying abroad, you always got to make sure to bring the little things. For example, if you're going to Hong Kong, do bring one of those little packets of tissue, as most ma 'n pa restaurants will not provide napkins for you with which to wipe down the greasy chopsticks and spoons. 

Of course if you're going to dine like a rich foreigner in those places with clean tableware, go ahead, but I only got so much cash and my stomach ain't so discerning.

Sorry if I sound a little antiquated. Was reading All the Pretty Horses all last night. Comepletely wooed by Cormac McCarthy's poetic prose, the stark yet sumptuous lyricism of his imagery. That and I adore westerns. 

Have got scads of pictures. Am downloading Irfanview now to edit that shit. Need to have time to post the pics up, so will do so at school when I have the leisure.

Can't wait to get rid of these old bags, as they are a whole lot of baggage for a lady to be carryin' around. I love my mum and aunt to death, but that old lady is annoying the fuuuck out of me. Honestly can't wait to meet and hang out with people my own age, drink legally. Karaoke. War games. Mmm.

Shabop shalom baby. 

kind of depressing.

Went to ladies' market night before last, which is like going to Chinatown except actually in China. Ladies' market is just one long strip of bootleg bazaar reaching a few blocks in length. After the first two blocks, however, you realize that everybody's hockin' the same shit, and then you head back, only to realize that you're lost. There was a contortionist begging in the middle of the way. The horrible smell of Stinking Tofu permeating everything. A little like a nightmare. Made worse because I had three old ladies in tow, and they kept stopping to look at bootleg Tumi luggage. And I kept wanting to stop and look at the cock costumes they had on display every five feet.

Bought a couple nice silver rings for 10 bucks USD. In the states they'd be 20 each. I try not to think about where they're made and by whom. For what.

It's hard when you're a stupide americaine traveling abroad and you've learned about this shit in the classroom. I mean, on the one hand, you don't want to support transnational crime organizations and child labor. On the other hand, shit is cheap. And the whole breadth and depth of the scheme is so large and encompassing you don't know what and where to go for any kind of legit shit. Honestly, if it's not the clothes at the ladies' market then it's the socks in the stores, or the bedsheets at the hostel. 

But that can't be an excuse. You gots to make choices, and change what you can. Which I suppose is hard, since the mindset around here is that you can't. 

But anyhow. Had expensive dinner with more old ladies and one of their well-to-do sons. The place is called Crystal Palace, and it's got decent Peking and Szechuan food. Hate to think about the paycheck.

The next day, we took a taxi to Tsim Sha Tsui to take the ferry to Macau. Tickets are decent in the daytime. Like 133 HK, but the return trip is like 175 HK at 7:30 in the evening.

The aunt and mum being asian and typical were swayed by very persistent tourist guide for exorbitant price. I think it was like $1000HK for 3 hours but we talked him down to $600 or something. 

Anyway, it was interesting as we talked more with him and learned about his family and where he was from. He took us to an AMAZING little bakery where they had egg tarts that just made me die. Delicioussss. But it took like a half hour to get them, the little place was so packed.

So I guess it was worth it, to have experienced it. Guy needs to work, right.

Alllssooo. On the way back our taxi driver told us that all the subway lines were shut down because somebody threw themselves onto the tracks. Suckz.

Also for new years' a gathering of people were silly enough to light a billion sparklers inside a crowded club. a fire of course ensued. sigh.

Came back and had really good chinese sausage and spinach rice. I could eat this everyday. A little expensive at 35 bucks a bowl, but two people could handle a bowl and still get stuffed. No english menus though. 

While trying to handle my earrings I spilled tea tree oil all over the bed. Shit is potent. Now, while I love the smell of tea tree oil and can deal with sleeping in it, the old ladies with me kicked up a fuss and we slept with the windows open, traffick noise blaring in, but the lovely smells of eucalyptus wafting out. Slept very well. 

I discovered a huge worn copy of Cormac McCarthy's All The Pretty Horses and the sequels at the hostel. Funny, since I had wanted to shell out cash for it in the states, but I found it here, a hidden gem. Mmm. But I have no time to read it. :( Might steal it, might buy it off them. Probably the latter. Fuckin' conscience :P.

Am now sitting here in the lobby listening to Wu Tang Clan, want to call Catherine but don't really want to deal with the other people here. That I think she might get annoyed with me wanting to talk to her all the time. But I do :(.

Will post pics tonight, si c'est possible. 

had bizarre dream last night where robbie, tracey hartman, and jon were present. robbie was being himself, tracey herself. jon gave me a ride somewhere in a ginormous truck. after he opened the passenger door and helped me down and kissed me. it was strange and the kiss real. i guess i am pretty jealous, but for why? i don't know. i don't want to think about it.

no time to fuck

hey kids, been real busy. the old ladies are rushing me to go here go there, ugh. but it's ok. i enjoy it :D.

no time to post pictures, as i am woken up in the early a.m. to go eat breakfast and then it's this or that. 

i had two whole posts for this blog on the plane, but i can't seem to copyxpaste. quel domage, eh.

so long story short, it was alright, akin to a very long road trip except much louder and in the air. the view was spectacular for the first hour or so as los angeles peeled away beneath us like a sparkling golden snakeskin onto a nightblack sea. the prettiest you'll ever get to see our little shithole.

i slept the first seven hours then watched hk movies and wall-e for the remainder. Catherine gave me a very surprising gift that filled my fitful naps with terrifying and unwanted sexual fantasies. What a friend. What a pal.

Got loads and loads of pictures. Can't wait to edit and post. not.

The first day we got here we arrived at seven in the morning. We dropped off our shit at the Dragon Hostel on 83 Argyle St., which is smack dab in the middle of it all, pretty much. I really like this place and could stand living here for the whole six months. It's only 20 dollars a day for a single room (40 or so for four people), the staff is great, all kinds of folks internationale passing through, and there's free wifi in the lobby. Downside is I can't skypesex Catherine at eight in the morning without feeling slightly embarassed by the other clientele.

Anyhow. We drop off our shit and head downstairs to wander a bit for breakfast. We end up at a little porridge shop where they sell these decent bowls of congee for like 13 dollars HK, which is less than 2 dollars US. For the four of us who had four bowls of congee and two or three plates of fried bread wrapped in rice sheets (omg heaven) it came out to be something like 11 dollars US.

omg. food heaven, je suis ariveé.

what else did we do. went shopping for sim card for my cell phone (which has broken, btw). You can buy a sim card for your cell if it's unlocked for international use. The sim card is usually anywhere from $68HK-$100HK($10USD-$14USD) at around 15 to 25 cents HK per minute. Pretty good deal, if all you need a telephone for is to reach people about the city while you're out and about.

What else did we do? Had dinner with other old ladies, which is HORRIBLE OMG SO BORING. What's worse is we also had BREAKFAST WITH MORE OLD LADIES. All of whom are amazed by the fact that I don't look chinese at all and nod politely at my horrible cantonese. like a curiosity. a linguistic amputee who happens to look filipino. ahhhh my life.

The next day was more exciting, as it was new year's eve. after the aforementioned torture dim sum venture, we roamed to kowloon tong where i found my school and met Lorencio, who has spearheaded the international student experience and makes life easier for all of us. afterwards took train to sha tin where we roamed some more.

BTW, if you love high end malls, you will love HK. I swear we cannot go for five minutes without falling headlong into another designer deathtrap. I saw four or five different Burberrys and Vivienne Westwoods just yesterday. Ridiculous. Almost as bad as 7 eleven. 

Felt sick and tired from eating too much food too fast so went back to hostel to nap and squander time until about 8 o'clock pm, whereupon I dragged my mother with me to Tsim Tsa Shui to sit for four hours in the cold and crowded to watch fireworks along Victoria Harbour.

Getting there was pas dificile, but man, gettin' out was INSANE. I'll post pictures later. Packed and packed with people. It took us an hour and a half to walk from the harbour all the way back to Jordan Station where we stuffed, stuffed, stuffed ourselves onto a crowded train back to Mong Kok.

Lord. But it was worth it. I slept the whole night.

This morning we wandered to a won ton shop where we had wonton soup for about $10HK. I can't get over how cheap this shit is. You could have three square meals for about 5 bucks USD a day.

We're going to go to Lantau Island today to see the huge Buddha statue. possibly monkey hill, too. to feed monkeys :D.

will update later. possibly tonight, possibly tomorrow night. we're going to go to macau tomorrow. 

kids and kids i am finally excited. :D

the start of it.

i'm starting a new travel blog to chronicle my adventures in hong kong. this is for anyone who's ever thought about studying abroad but didn't have the guts. this is for anyone who hasn't yet stepped onto an airplane. cuz god knows i didn't until now. will hope for better visuals in the coming days, and coherency. 

so my plugs came. that will distract me long enough to stop feeling miserable.

i feel so goddam depressed now, for no particular reason. If I was forced to be honest, I'd say it was because of seeing Catherine and John together. Maybe it's because I'm pretty attracted to John, or else it's because it's like me and Catherine's sister Kay are alike in that we're both hideous attention whores.

In my heart there is a dark dark maw that aches wide open for the glimmering spotlight. it's like staring into a black hole. like one day my self-esteem collapsed on itself and created an implosion of cretinous codependence. so now i'm wholly dependent on what other people think of me. 

it's too tiring to explain. or write out. i just want attention. i'm sorry. it's so ignoble. so cretinous. that's such a beautiful word. cretinous. that's what i am. a cretin.

a fucking schleb.

yeah that's probably it. i just want the attention of young attractive men. i want to be held and loved but at the same time i am repulsed by the idea. i don't want anyone to touch me. i can't even touch myself.

the only one i feel comfortable holding is emmanuel. him and only him for now and for eternity. that's the damn truth.

but i can't allow myself even that. 

he's just my heroin, and i have to quit, and this empty loneliness is my withdrawal. that's all. i just have to think like that for now. i'm so terrifyingly sad. 

i drove home today half in tears. i want to cry all the time. 

georgia. geoorgiaa. the whooole day through.

so good.

music is all i need man. i could disappear into the sweet relief of a song, a box of blueberries bouncing softly into a bowl of cool, whipped cream. just like that.

i don't want boys but there they are. too much. i just want to study. i want a clean empty room with a clean empty desk and time, time, time to study.

i sleep but wake up absolutely exhausted. a pile of clothes grows in my room. something unfinished sits at the top of my to-do list and i can't quite put my finger on it. 

i feel pathetic as always. this girl that hangs out with dave a lot, nadine (who is pretty but also pretty silly) calls me very pretty and i look at her because it sounds so absurd.

the exboyfriend leaves a voicemail, telling me not to call him to see if he's alright. he says he keeps thinking about me, etc. where did he go wrong, etc.

oh gosh. whatever. he needs to quit it before he reallllly pisses me off.

tres est mechant. il aime une autre. et moi, j'ai aucune idee quoi faire.

tapp tapp where the pussy at i dunno i dunno i dunno..........


That song is playing in my head all day all the times. it's terrrible.


我的名字是林安娜。我常常去王先生的商店買筆和書。