I loved my Blogger website: it felt homemade, familiar, and, most importantly, mine. The Squarespace rendition, on the other hand, feels just like the mall in South Horizons today: somewhat similar to what it used to be, but much more sanitary. A mere hollow of the old thing.
Something scares me about the nature of office life. It might be the permanence of all of it — the lack of a collective knowledge that this is all temporary, that this will all end some day, the way kids in high school count down the clock together to the inevitable goodbye.
in these snapshots you'll find some old friends and some new ones, a few places i know and a few more i discovered, and a (relatively incomplete?) collection of my better memories from this year.
everything about the trip just seemed so perfect, in a way that life doesn't usually lend itself to. maybe it's a summer thing.
It doesn't do well to dwell on shedded skins, on expired hollows of ourselves. We forget to live if we do that.
The smell of incense lingers in the air like an afterthought, or a dream, or a past life. We are back to do a familiar walk: pay our respects at the Sha Tin columbarium where are housed the ashes of 爺爺, 嫲嫲, and 伯伯.