Two worlds

 

In Paris, where everything shone brightly, the Haussmanian buildings, the lights, the cobblestone pavements, the dim street lights, the vintage cafes and black corner cats, was where one world began; and the other world started in Hong Kong, the home of my parents; a neon-infused city, with tall glass buildings, where the world of finance and shopping collide together. I came to know these two worlds, where one began and the other one ends. The first time I traversed from Hong Kong and these walls of concrete, the shape of the endless trains and steel glass created a sense of towering effect, I felt this sense of never ending, spiral that shook my core. I manifested this longing for something more, a darker desire, something that would change my world. I felt at this instant, if something could change, and that would never change again, what would it be like ?

I am feeling like the world is on one edge, like I am standing on the corner and everything is about to fall down. The dark endless nights and the starry skies above are what motivated me to find my reason within, my world of sorrow.

 

In this concrete jungle, I hoped I could find the answer, the one that would change everything. If in fact an answer stood out, there could be a new meaning, a life changing event. If cats could talk, there would be a secret out there already, the one filled with meaning and the one where I would need to write down so that my pages would be filled with memories. Indeed, if I could write and write forever, endlessly, where I would be filling those pages with words and words that would never be seen again. What would I write.

 

Paris is where the talks and the walks began. The endless talks and walks between old friends, the secrets of sorrows, of deep pain, mourning, loss and hope. I hoped that I would be the one to fill the strangest night, the night where everything was lost and nothing could ever be retrieved again.

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Where it starts. In the dim light of the corner street, was a black mellow cat. It was a rainy day and there wasn’t a lot of people around, but there was always a cat. And the world ended. I was wondering whether people actually came around this place. The place where lovers met and could go on and on forever, and at the same time they could play hide and seek and walk together. And they could also allow the time to pass by, and no one would ever notice. How they could be together was a mystery; after all no one saw them together, no one knew how they met each other. It was all a story, a romantic love story. The two lovers would seat together and they would smile at each other. Their world was created and they shared their words, their hearts and their souls. The musical notes would be played one at a time on a grand piano, echoing and reverbartaring its sound throughout the chamber. And the crowd wondered who was playing, why the sound was so pure and melodious, how each note strung as if they were coming from a river of angelic sounds from a harp. And the words started to rhyme, they were not only arranged in an order that was expressing their echo but also their meaning. And the meaning that they displayed was one of a distinct pitch, a sound that made no sense but was allowed to be moved and placed in a certain area so that those who would pass by would hear it. I would only look at the trees in front of the building, and see that the birds who were perched on it were no longer singing but were sleeping.

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In my glass of wine, I sipped a mouthful. I was thirsty, the thirst of a desert was drying my throat. I am thankful that I can drink such a fine, tasty, aged wine. The scent of aroma and bitterness in my throat linger in my body, and they make my head spin and my heart thump. I am already quite drunk, but I want to drink more and more. As I realize that my body starts to feel weak and tired, I throw the glass into the sea. I fought my tears back and realized, all the wine in the world won’t save my sorrow tonight or drown my tears. I am starting the grasp, as the night goes on and the world spins, that he doesn’t love me anymore and will never again. But my heart is broken and I am no more in control of my thoughts, my stream of thoughts flowing like a mad river crushing against the cold rocks. I will never feel like I am dying again, I thought. I need to find some place for fresh air and start living a new life again, as a new day is opening up and beginning.

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I had not had a good night’s sleep in days. I am wondering if my internal clock is off or something. I always am in pain and does the night ever end ? The day and the night are one and together. When the sun comes out, it witnesses my tears and my fresh pain in the morning. The sunshine could dry my wounds and the deep wine color of the fresh roses would cut through the clear blue sky. I am always in pain and my sore throat drinks the sweet milk tea, making my body feel bittersweet. The days are not over; I am still alive and there is more to life than just love. When there is not much to do during the Christmas holidays, but to seat together and to talk, I just reminisce on my past, my childhood.