Saturday, 26 August 2006


Shit – duck!


Nope, there it goes again. Some kind of depression trying to smack me int head. No, no, yer alright, it missed me this time.

It’s been on the cards fer a week; the tell-tale signs weighed heavy as a battleship but I never saw this, this time. Strange. And I don’t even know what it’s all about, Alfie. It’s like I’ve lifted me head to look around me, to make sure Life hasn’t yet passed me by, and been hit by someone else tripping over their own troubles.

There’s also this feeling that I’m slowly realising what I did four years ago in coming to Hong Kong int first place. Fer the past four years I’ve never stopped to wonder over me reasons for the tacit motivation I had fer being here.

Here. This strange, odd little territory ceded to a monolithic anciency, with its crazy attraction borderin ont mystical. I’ve never once questioned why I’ve spent four years fighting fer work papers, a place to live, a circle of friends, the middle seat at karaoke. And I’m happy here. I’ve me own flat fert first time in me life, I’ve got friends whose minds work on the same wavelength as mine, and to all intents and purposes, I’ve no real troubles. Don’t mention the fact that I’m so single it's a joke, and I’m sound as a pound (even if I am thirty soon).

So why do I feel like me face has a heavy weight attached to ‘t chin-end? Why am I walking round like I’ve lost a tenner and found a forged fiver? I’m kicking other people’s cats, just cos I don’t have one of me own. I’m flicking me feet up when people stand on ‘em ont underground. I’m shoving back when people try to shove past me to wait fert pedestrian crossing lights to change. I’ve even stopped smoking cos it doesn’t change me mood, or in fact do owt but cause me to put on air-con to clear the acrid fog. Granted, vodka consumption has gone up, and maybe that’s a factor in me sudden an blinding murderous mood, but it's the one vice I have right now.

What am I doing here, anyway? Life in its entirety is boring the pants off me. And it shouldn’t. I’ve changed all music ont iPod. I’ve got new books in, books I know I’ll enjoy reading ont underground, grinning like a maniac and not caring who’s wondering what it is making me chuckle. I’ve got new comic books in (“Deathnote”, volumes 1 – 12, in HK Chinese translated from the original Japanese. The artwork is superb), and we sat through’t end of Lady Chatterley and not only did we get Sean Porn but a semi-happy ending as well. I’ve got mp3s of Sir Sean of Bean reading various audiobooks, so I should be right made-up wi Life.

I suspect it’s the knowledge that I’ve done this before. Change everything round to give meself the fresh air I need. I’m wondering, with a heavy heart, if this moving to HK thing were just the same, but ont bigger scale. It’s a little worrying. But this place is insidious. I can’t get away. I’ve been seriously thinking about what it would take to transport me life back to Blighty, and have been staggering under weight of problems therein. Fuck it. I’ll stay here until summat happens as makes me really want to go back. After all, apart from missing friends and family, there’s nowt else I’ll more gladly go without.

What job would I do? I’m only qualified to teach English as a second language, and then just wi one piece of paper from Cambridge. I have nothing, bar blood and friends, to go back for.

Looks like I’m staying here then, dunt it? I’m fucked off wi this blog an all. I’m leaving a nice big picture ~ from one o the many understanding, lovely girls at the Bean Daily) that’ll cheer me up, then going to watch summat old, trusted, and relied upon to make me smile. Remington Steele on DVD. Don’t laff. It’s cheering me up wi’ its wit and care-free TV-making. Between that an Moonlighting, they really knew how to make disposable yet entertaining shows back then. Don’t get me started.

Soopytwist. I’m all lubed out.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~


* (asterisk) said...

Hey, pet, don't be glum. Fuckin ell, if anything can sort you out it'll be Stephanie Zimbalist in Remington Steele. How I loved that show and would think about it all through Chemistry lesson the next day.

Go and have some dim sum and a nice cuppa green tea, and you'll be right as rain, I bet. Don't get bored with the blog. Use it as a way to connect with others when you feel like kickin a cat. Cats are nice.

Enjoy the shows and I hope you feel a bit more chipper soon enough.

By the way, isn't that new Arctic Monkeys video a corker? The one with the blokey from Dead Man's Shoes.


mega hugs Soupy. If yer weren't so far away I'd pop over n give yer a hug n all. If I was any more pissed I'd pour vodka in me speakers to see if it'd reach yer.

Love n hugs from Blighty. (N yer really don't want to be here. Trust me)

Stiff upper n all that x

Soupdragon said...

Mr *:
Aaah... Laura Holt. I thought she were great - the only clever bird on telly, LOL. And of course Pierce Brosnan of 20 years ago dunt hurt yer eyes at all. *big grin*
I resisted the tempation to kick as many cats as I wanted. Grand total of cats kicked: 0. Bugger.
I did see the new Arctic Monkeys one, on YouTube, I think. The one wi the girl about to throw herself off a building? Cracking. But I seemed to be the only one watching who weren't disappointed with the song. Philistines.

My (new) speakers didn't drip vodka, but they certainly belted out Arctic Monkeys and Milburn last night, I can tell you. Now it's Sunday afternoon and I'm contemplating playing em all over again... but the 8 year old girl upstairs is having her piano lesson, and it's actually quite soothing to have excerpts of Marriage of Figaro floating through the window.

Anyway, cheers to you both. I'm feeling much better. Or rather, I was until I sat down and wrote the newer post above. But at least I'm not depressed any more.


Cheers m'dears ~


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