Saturday the Sixth of Hong Kong February, a Birthday

Roommate Satoshi woke me this morning after another latenight at Lan-Kwai-Fong. Readying in a rush, we (Satoshi, [the birthday-girl] Yukari, Yuriko, Eun-Bee nuna (Claire), Hye-sung (Heather), Min-jeong (MJ (Mary Jane)), and I) rushed down to Belcher’s Street and had our fill of miso, sushi and tea. Yukari, endlessly hungry and dissatisfied with our birthday offerings, began eating each of her presents in turn. Luckily, my alarmed-clock was spared and Yukari was placated with stories from our great, personal pasts in English and Korean or Japanese. Much after, I went up alone onto the roof of my dormitory, the roof of Wei-lun Hall and, pulling up a chair facing the cemetery, had a  good, long blow at the ol’ blues-harp. Its nothing much, but I composed an original song today, my first. The tune sounds something out of an old Final Fantasy 7 track, maybe from a dream sequence in the game-play? If you know what I’m talking about, then someday I’ll play it for you, maybe in a dream sequence? After, I went back to my room, 8-24B, and watched ‘Cowboy Funk’ episode 22 of Cowboy Bebop linked below (click the pic.).

(http://anijunkie.com/index.php?option=com_seyret&Itemid=269&task=videodirectlink&id=9682&navstart=0)

Bending a piece of my lighter’s metal safety today, I remembered my father the blacksmith telling me that if a metal was bent in one direction, it could never be bent back into the same shape again. I guess the only way to return the metal to its shape would be to melt it down into its original form, its simplest components, and to cast it into shape again. Metals are hard like that, unbending. It reminded me of a story of the zen monk, Nan-in, who famously poured to the brim tea for a university professor. Then, still pouring, Nan-in poured until the tea was overflowing into the professor’s lap. The professor, unable to contain himself, shouted, “Its overfull! No more will go in.”, to which the monk replied, “You are like this cup, so full with your opinions and knowledge that nothing can be added. How can I show you zen unless you first empty your cup?”

Yukari’s birth-day ended today with a game of jungle-gym tag, two boxes of Valor, and we’re back on the roof, good-day!

..

dream sequence?:

eat the gods! this year’s yukari-cup tottered from reeling, zanarkand hands, who, after four consecutive wins and a neck-and-neck final match, were bested by  the what-should-I-put-on-your-tombstone-motherfuckers? analysts contribute this devastating loss to zanarkand’s satoshi and mark’s use of performance enhancing valor and excessive ritual prayer (instant replay: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DTGdMv0i-c4). Let’s pray that they will see  better luck at the 201o international hong kong beer pong championships next latenight.

the valor went down fast and my third spliff of the day too before three am dim-sum nabbed a barefooted-australian on the way in the road ‘said he sold diamonds.

six am off course of course on the roof pants torn lighteningstorm by the fire warmed morning sun. the rain-dance. a grey sun.