As you probably can tell from the title, I obviously have a knack for conjuring rather catchy titles that alliterate. I chose these very words, not for them to be thematically representative of what I write, but simply because they sound nice when placed together, and also because they are extant each and every day in my rather lonely life. I do not know what my blog will be about. But worry not, my posts will not revolve solely around these three seemingly disparate nouns. My supervising editor has very kindly, and in a potentially hazardous misplacement of confidence, reassured that creative control is very much in my hands.
I will, therefore, write about what I want to. I will write about many things. I will write about many people and many places. I will write about why Brexit is a bad idea and why Bernie Sanders is such a grumpy but fun socialist grandpa. I will write about how I am absolutely buzzing for Radiohead’s new LP and how I am heartbroken in equal proportions when it comes to failing to buy a ticket to their May 28 gig in London (no surprises there, eh?).
I will write about my Welsh Corgi, Ollie, who has just turned 3 months old, has a deviant liking towards mud-stained shoelaces, and has an unusually long tail for his breed. I love Ollie and find the companionship of a tender puppy one of the most beautiful things on earth. I will write about cinnamon sugar doughnuts that I get from Krispy Kreme in Cornmarket (and the occasional plain sugar doughnut – trust me, I KNOW my doughnuts), which I consume an unhealthy amount of on a near-daily basis. I probably take in too much sugar but I need the energy kick to cope with life.
More importantly, I will also write about my rather unwelcome friend whom I have named Tom. I see Tom every day, and to be more precise, each and every minute since January 2015. He is there anytime and anywhere. He is, actually, not a living human being. No, he is far worse. He mostly is silent, but he does, in the odd night or two, speak to me. And when he does, he is very, very persuasive, dangerously so, and he gets to my head really easily. When I try not to listen, he screams and sometimes hits me. Which can be quite hard and can hurt quite bad. But when I start crying, Tom then knows that he has maybe gone a tad too far and then leaves me alone. Temporarily. And he definitely will return sometime after too. He always does. It is tough living with Tom. Perhaps I will spend more of my later posts chronicling this ongoing tempest of a friendship (or relationship, or whatever you might label it).
Anyhow, if this is getting too depressing to read, I apologize. This is quite literally my stream of consciousness and my ideas tend to bounce around a lot. As an introductory blog post, I think it may be appropriate to also note down what I have been up to in the past 3 weeks or so of the Easter vac. I log onto Facebook and I see right away that many of my college counterparts are having what appears to be a smashing time. Mine so far has been relatively monotonous. I went to Berlin straight after term, hoping to detox, hoping to explore someplace new, and to have a taste of the so-frequently-hailed-and-hashtagged pleasures of an ‘indie solo soul-searching trip’. And I did try my best to act like everything was going on fine. I took the customary selfie at Checkpoint Charlie (and the Brandenburger Tor, and the Reichstag, and the East Side Gallery), downed platter after platter of currywurst (and doughnuts too, don’t forget the doughnuts) and managed to tour all 5 museums on Museumsinsel under 5 hours (surely one of my more significant achievements lately). But it was not all sunshine and rainbows. Tom was there too and he spoiled the trip quite a bit. Anyhow, I am happy that I am now back home. I can usually keep Tom at bay when I am surrounded by places and people most familiar to me. This is all from me for now – I look forward to continue my weekly musings.
Such, so far, are the secret confessions of a shy boy from Hong Kong.
