Moving out.

I'm done with Blogspot.

Have finally moved forward to wordpress.

Check out www.loccomama.com

The address I have been using for years.

Greed

When P first made me watch Se7en I so wanted to shrug away. The cruelness made me breathless. The easiness and possibility of their existence between us are terrifying. After the blood and cropped lumps I wondered, are they THAT deadly?!

But I wish the answer is yes. Remember once a taxi man said, Chinese need to be ruled to have discipline - our talking point was June 4th. I can't agree with him that the June 4th vigil is a joke. But I do agree that governance brings reflection - which a lot of us fail to work out ourselves.

There was once I as usual hopped onto a bus, sat down, and - as very usual again - took out my iPod and fell into my own little world. The bus went from one stop to another, and the ride continued with nothing worthy of attention. I didn't know when,and why and how, my professor was already sitting next to me when I got my head back to reality. Details in short - I was a little bit afraid and did not want her to recognize me - of course perhaps she had already). As if I did something wrong, as if I behaved badly, but hell - where came the slight bitterness of shame?

That was when I realized we may not behave as we think we should, or we think we do sometimes. At least that very moment I worried if I was behaving well enough not to disappoint the professor again. Thought too far, I know. But at least, that was a short ritual of self-reflection.

These days greed has almost invaded me. Not that I crave more. I have been good. I am now sitting in my beloved Caffe Habitu in Causeway Bay, 5 minutes from my home, enjoying a well-cooked tomato pasta, sipping the hot carrot soup, typing on my new MacBook Pro (Thanks P again (k)). Chilling. What else can I ask for?

But I have been asking for a lot. I almost had the determination that I have to move out with Kodi again, renting her a 12k apartment somewhere in HK island, or a design studio with P. I am almost temped by luxury. with relaxation comes laziness.

I didn't forget.

But the verge of getting blinded by good things from good deeds almost killed me.

Everyone Loves You When You’re Down

Everyone Loves You When You're Down

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It’s been five years since I first heard this song.
I meant it when I tried to console one with it.
I still believe that everyone loves you, not necessarily when you’re down. I love Naomi. Always. And I love you all.

Goodnight and Enjoy.

Okay so now I can’t sleep.

I’m sure a part of my head is reluctant to sleep in fact. The six hours that we call midnight is when the door is open to the old times. I may not want the synthesis of gold school songs and sunlight. As though the darkness behind the curtain invites nostalgia into the space. Roots unattached to now, the nostalgia can’t be more bare. I love my present. Yet history still aches. Or sometimes excite.

It is now 3.42.
And I have three more hours to go.

Goodnight.

Utopia

I love/hate Colonialism.
Don’t tell me you feel differently.
The time when Great Britain ruled all and eventually condemned Japan for conspiring to do the same. They made foreign lands theirs. Australia, Asia, Africa were all there for this ‘blessed’ and ‘privileged’ clan.

But the benefits brought by it were there in Hong Kong, making it a far better place than the rest of China. But these were not designed to be. The uncivilized, barbarian conspiracies. Just in the history of mankind why did such things exist? The obvious wrong. The obvious injustice. The obvious humiliation and negative side of human. All things that we subconsciously disagree and will deny that we have within us.

How far have we gone from that point? The dark age is not yet over. We somehow have moved from privileges and injustice to luxury. Subconsciously we neglect and expel the poor, if not discriminate.

We always love the easiest way to live with ‘sustainable’ dump pleasure.

God is great.

Sunday’s Reader: Ming Magazine

Between English and Simplified Chinese is where I live. For the sake of my job I have to keep myself exposed to the English colony whilst the massive picture of quality Mainland Chinese magazines tempts me back to my origin.

This Sunday as usual I had a serious ritual with my morning Caffe Misto @ Caffe Habitu. Keeping me company is MING MAGAZINE which had been luring me out there on the rack for some time. I’m weak, it succeeded to seduce me. I’m now hers.

Allow me to be irresponsibly saying that I am no longer a fan of City Magazine, for the flooding-and-going-to-flood-worse invasion of commercial stuff. Having to attract people to buy more really makes me sick. (I miss the inspiring conversation with Mr. Kalle Lasn from Adbusters.)

So here comes MING MAGAZINE. Again, not an individual one but is surprisingly quality. It is somewhere between the old CITY MAG and VISION.

The minimal white layout invited me to another place. My shell was in Habitu, my soul was off.

I am on the verge of forgetting that my mother tongue is Cantonese

At the turn of Tuesday afternoon

Headache took me away from the office, I’m here sticking to my new, big desk. The dark oak reminds me of Kodi and my little room. The two little desks leaning against each other were two different worlds. Our own little world. Kodi’s desk was always tidy, mine traumatic. I didn’t notice it told who we are as grownups.

I love staying here.
I love the composition of the desk, the white curtain and sunlight.
I love here as it is ours.