I'm Boiling

I'm boiling with confusion and disquiet. Two weeks ago I decided to rework this story I wrote last year. My protagonist is a young man--a few years younger than me. The new draft is better than the old one but it's still very much off-standard. To me it looks cheap, forced, a downwards spiral of narrative failure.

I want to doze off just looking at the first two sentences. And I know: I haven't got to the gist of the story in myself and I have to tear it apart and live it and write it again, because I'm the kind of writer who can only write from the heart. I cannot sit down to plot and to write a section, reorganize and rewrite like many writers do. I can only write from one line to the next: once I see an untruth or distortion, I delete and start over. I cannot go on telling a story on a false premise.

Most of you know that I only like to talk about things when they're concrete. I could be half way through a project or a not so secret affair when I say, oh yes, this is what I've been doing. I want to speak only when I've sorted out all the logic and emotions as a coherent whole; I want to tell a story that you can understand, like or dislike but one that you cannot refuse. You will not tell me how I'd run my course. It's already set and I'll ride the waves and see where it takes me.

I'm also boiling over a certain scenario which taunts me in my waking life and goes on to invade my sleep. For the most part I stick to reason but my eccentricity gets the better of me. I'd chase it even if nobody is going to agree or if it's coming down to ashes between my fingertips. Something has to give; I'm waiting for it to open up.

Stop That Train (II)

Yesterday Hong Kong was dealt a tremendous blow as the funding for XRL (the HK section of the Guangzhou-Shenzhen-HK Express Rail Link) was passed by the Legislative Council. At that painful moment thousands of protesters surrounded the LegCo building and shouted: Shame on you, Hong Kong government!

I wrote about my objections to XRL in this earlier post after I attended the first sit-in protest outside LegCo on Dec 18. The financial affairs panel debated the funding for non-consecutive days; each time it drew a huge crowd of protesters. In the last couple weeks there're also a series of events outside LegCo that aimed to raise public awareness of the impact of XRL and to celebrate the spirit of resistance. A variety of community organisations came together in a carnival--some sold their handicrafts and home-made snacks to raise fund for the anti-XRL campaign,. Scholars and poets gave talks and readings; independent movie makers held seminars; local musicians sang about life in HK, issues like unemployment and the increasing lack of freedom.

Yesterday I got to LegCo in the morning. In our hearts we knew the funding would be passed today: the royalists are the majority in LegCo and they'd always pass what the government proposes. The Pan-Democrats were going at the filibuster. The protesters came up with over 100 questions and the organizer texted them to the councilors. All the while we watched the live broadcast, sang, and booed the royalists when they showed their true colors. The Pan-Democrats proposed a series of motion debates - including that the government should promise to hire local construction workers over cheaper mainland labor; and that during the construction, the government would give sufficient information to the Tai Kok Tsui residents whose homes will directly affected.




































Hunger strike. And the possession on their way to the Government Headquarter.

The royalists said No. To each of these motion debates they pressed the 'No' button. Thirty-one of them, our dear councilors, who get their fat salaries thanks to us taxpayers, said No, we don't care if you get no jobs or peace. All we want now is for the funding to be approved so we can get out of here. Some of these councilors are in the LegCo because of popular voting, but others are there because of functional constituencies. Suppose I'm a popular personality in the tourism industry and the 300 voting members vote me in--I go to LegCo meetings sometimes and doze off and there's nothing the HK public can do about it. In recent days there's a movement in HK that calls for the end to functional constituencies and I may write about that another time.










































Mr Lee, mechanics and Mr Wong Nai-chung, owner of the now defunct Sun Chung Flower Shop. They both had to move away from Sham Shui Po because of urban redevelopment. After forty years of working in the same professions and in old districts, they can't pick up another trade nor can they afford rent in other districts. Mr Wong has a place at a local design college for now. Mr Lee is jobless and lives in public housing.

Today many HK people talk about the protest last night, which went on way after the meeting was over. The mission was to block all LegCo's exits so that the Secretary for Transport and Housing Eva Cheng would have to face the protesters before she could leave. Hundreds of youngsters sat or laid down on the streets arms in arms, some with plastic wrap over their eyes and noses. The police used pepper spray on the protesters without warning, and around 8pm they removed the protesters by force. Some of these kids returned to the scene though and Eva Cheng didn't manage to leave the area until 0.30am, when the police escorted her to the train station.

Some HKers, esp. those who're pro XRL, call these youngersters' move irrational, unnecessary or childish. A number of these kids were caught doing pretty stupid things like dancing, cracking irrelevant jokes on the cops ('Which one of you is the most handsome?') and the reporters ('Come dance with us, pretty'). A couple of these clips were shown on TV. Now, as a former journalist and a witness to last night's protest, I have to say: 1. the HK media is mostly pro-government nowadays and 2. the majority of these young protesters were very sensible. For the most part they called to their peers to stay calm and patient. 'Don't fight the police when they remove you so you won't be arrested.' 'We'd keep smiling because our cause is just and we'd keep fighting.'




































What's irrational about a final sit-in on the streets? Did they hurt anyone or themselves; did they burn up a car or spray paint on the LegCo building or throw threats at anyone? To condemn some of these youngsters because they danced and said some silly trivial things--that is so petty. A journalist had the balls to write 'How sad if this is how our future generations will turn out' in a note on her Facebook. Hello? Are you Fascist or are you that uptight? A few years ago the Korean peasants came over to HK for the WTO. At one point some of them broke the police's barrier and dived into the Victoria Harbor for a swim--that's a part of their protest. HK people had a good laugh about it. So what's with you being so judgmental and intolerant of our young people?

Today I laid in bed and thought over what I'd seen in recent days--suddenly tears were rolling down my face. I can't bear the thought that in the next six years, our government is going to throw a gigantic amount of our money down the drain, strip many HK families of their dignity and peace, and rape our opinions because of this XRL that runs straight to Beijing and stands for political unity rather than promotes economic development. If I feel as angry and weary as I do, what about those whose lives will be messed up by the XRL? The residents of affected areas who will be fighting noise and air pollution everyday, or see their buildings half collapse because of the underground work? The residents of Vegetable Garden whose homes would be wiped out? What is my hometown coming down to?

To those who say our resistance was unnecessary--say what you will. You have your reasons and opinions. I'll tell you this much: the Hong Kong people who give their time and hearts to certain causes, such as opposing the XRL, do so out of a sense of justice. That the tides can't be turned doesn't mean we'll turn a blind eye to what's unjust. Or that our System is changing doesn't mean I'd resign myself and go along with those insane rules and values. I'd do what I do - including writing about it - even if it comes down to nothing and many other Hong Kongers will do the same.

In Support of Liu Xiaobo

Tonight there's a candlelight vigil in support of Liu Xiaobo, the Chinese dissident who's jailed for 11 years for 'inciting subversion of state power'. I wrote about his persecution in an earlier post and Hong Kong people's reaction here.

I arrived at the open area outside the Legislative Council, the popular site of protests in recent days in HK, at 7pm as the vigil was about to begin. The participating organizations included the Independent Chinese PEN Centre, Amnesty International, a local independent media group, China Human Rights Lawyers Concern Group and HKU Students' Union among others.
























With former student Samuel

A number of poets took turns to recite poetry written by and for Liu--on the June 4 massacre, loss of freedom, love and faith and hopes for distant liberation for the Chinese people. Oswald Chan, a supporter of Liu, translated three of Liu's poems into English. Here's a short one titled 'When I'm gone--to My Sleeping Wife':

When you took my heart,
I was already gone.
On this clear Autumn day
The shining handcuffs burnt in the sun.

I was being taken far away
To a place you could never find.
But when you woke up, your glance was
Scorching my shadow.

The scar of your wound,
Was torn again and again.
I was astonished at your delicate body.
How could it endure such unexpected and persistent pain?

Even as the knife broke,
You gripped it.




















Liu's story you've heard over and over by now. One thing that may elude you is that in China, these victims of political persecution are slave labor in 're-education camps'. Besides intellectuals like Liu and other activists, human rights lawyers, reporters who break 'sensitive' stories (e.g. Sichuan earthquake) or even ordinary citizens, who've been illegally evicted from their homes and gone up to Beijing to complain can get locked up real quick.


















It's not only the freedom of Liu we're fighting for--it's the dignity of the Chinese people that is at stake. Tonight about 500 Hong Kong people gathered to sing the sacrifice made by Liu and other individuals in advocating a more fair and democratic China. Again I'm proud of my hometown: here in HK we still have liberty, justice and we can openly voice our opinions and our support for dissidents who rebel out of love for their country.

Don't Dream (II)

In my dream you're the rain. You break harder and hit me all over. Even in your arms I look everywhere for you: your smile, your voice which skirt around me like a stillborn whim. In my dream you take on a much bolder personality. You carry me to a deserted school hall and lay me down in a row of chairs.

You look at me in silence. I see your fear has returned.

My fairies say I'm your Pandora's Box. I make you want to run free for a while, but you're not ready for the game and you're resisting. You're not one to lie or scheme, so you watch my face and wait for me to steal you away--and the world will spill and give our bond a feigned innocence.

I watch you in the same way. You just don't know.

Don't Dream

I haven't talked to you again since I quit you. Your silence I take as a sign that you've understood. Or you've adopted the same politics of disappearance: I died in your sleep and you watched me float away to the end of your realm like a black dot in the mass of existence, then you closed your eyes and braced oblivion so you'd awake to a new door swinging open.

My fairies say you have other ideas. They say you think I'm still yours and I'm like the sun. That you have hopes about possibilities and the future could be different. That you only have to reemerge from your dark phase and speak and I'd embrace you: a boy with his wand.

I don't believe you'd be this slow. But if the fairies are truthful, you won't be the first to come running back. I was courteous and sweet to you out of principle.

I'd be damned if I fuck you again.

Fiction for Life

I was browsing through Foliate Oak Literary Magazine and saw these 'Kurt Vonnegut Writing Tips':

In his book Bagombo Snuff Box: Uncollected Short Fiction, Vonnegut listed eight rules for writing a short story:

Use the time of a total stranger in such a way that he or she will not feel the time was wasted.
Give the reader at least one character he or she can root for.
Every character should want something, even if it is only a glass of water.
Every sentence must do one of two things—reveal character or advance the action.
Start as close to the end as possible.
Be a Sadist. No matter how sweet and innocent your leading characters, make awful things happen to them—in order that the reader may see what they are made of.
Write to please just one person. If you open a window and make love to the world, so to speak, your story will get pneumonia.
Give your readers as much information as possible as soon as possible. To hell with suspense. Readers should have such complete understanding of what is going on, where and why, that they could finish the story themselves, should cockroaches eat the last few pages.

It's not very different from how one would live their lives, is it?

Or that's what I'd say to you: Don't fucking waste my time.

New Year's Eve at Peel Fresco

At the year's end people sing their blues. I've had my share of solitary New Year's Eves. I barely looked up when the clock struck midnight. The moment of change doesn't grip me the way it does most other people. I have no retrospective of the year past, no resolution for the new year except what I always live for: to live every single moment of my life with promise, awareness and conviction; to live vicariously.

Every moment is anticipation. Like my heartbeats. In the unfolding I steal space. Or space is vast and I wait. Patience is a virtue I have yet to learn.

I want to know what's to come.

Last night I met Akiko, Claire and Christine for drinks and countdown at Peel Fresco, one of our favorite hang-outs in town. The evening was filled with conversations, nicotine and wind. We sat outside where the crowd coalesced. Our sentiments were quiet as they're loud in our mind. For the four of us, a woman's life takes art, solitude, precious company that we make room for and a lot of insistence.

I should like to tell you more about my friends but I'm feeling secretive today, so let's start with a teaser.



















Akiko is the girlfriend of my close friend EC. In the last year Akiko and I have become closer through girls' talks and tango. On the dance floor Akiko is a popular girl, though she has this fantasy that she's clumsy. She's one of the few truly kind people I know: always considerate, giving and open-minded.

Last summer, partly thanks to my nagging, Akiko went swimming in the public pool between rowdy children and rough old men. I have this mental image of her, porcelain skin and jet black hair, springing out of the water, grasping for air and the promise of safety.

Claire is a painter, designer, curator and budding art consultant. We've known each other for two years though we only got to hang out more in recent months. She lives with her beloved DD, a white-furred cat who sits on the visitor's lap and purrs, or growls to show her colors when she's disturbed.

Claire has fire, too. At our late-night drinks Claire makes the sharpest comments about people's stupidity, and she'd glare at strangers who cause a nuisance around her on the streets. Her artwork, though, shows a lot of tranquility: art is balance and it brings out what's invisible in our souls.

Christine is a PR person for Holga and a new friend I recently made. I first met her at Claire's birthday dinner in September. She sat beside me for a moment and I felt a glittering presence. There she was, a honey-colored skin lady busting with charm. Admittedly, I was a little overwhelmed!

Christine's buzzwords are positive energy, and she hops around the world with great enthusiasm. In our brief friendship so far, I've noticed that Christine takes the time to ask questions and to listen--to get to know the people who've crossed her path. It's a rare trait nowadays, if you think about it.

























Here's Rob Baker, owner of Joyce is Not Here and Peel Fresco Music Lounge along with his wife Joyce. Rob is Canadian--the flag in the first picture is a Canadian flag. It's become soiled in the last few years and they wouldn't remove it, the way they wouldn't take away the awkward bits and pieces of decoration in their cafe and bar.

And that's why Joyce's and Peel Fresco are so much fun. Regulars like us would hang out and engage in all kinds of random acts: pick up the guitar and play a tune, dance tango, grab the ass of one of the cute gay waiters. They run poetry readings, movie nights and talks, though I don't often go to those.

My vanity note of the night: many people have commented on the lipsticks I'm wearing in this picture, including those who stopped me and kissed me on the streets. Fuchsia Star is a cute name for a shade. May it continue to draw a lot of attention and kisses my way.