A night worth remembering can be one of those nights where we do the most mundane of things but in that time we finally realize the world around us. Usually it is the nights we voluntarily forget because it was everything short of exciting but ought to remember because then we wonder where time has gone and why it didn't wait for us.
I didn't do anything special tonight, but I want to remember tonight. It was just one of those nights where I decided to go against my nature and just stop all the thinking. I didn't have a plan, I didn't have a destination...well sort of, I needed to walk home but if my journey led me pass 沙宣道, I would continue trekking. Of all the days to walk home, I think the best days are the days that turn into nights and the tears start falling from heaven. Those are the nights when the streets are empty, when I can sing aloud, when I can take as many photos as I'd like, when I can just stand in the middle of the sidewalk for no reason.
On nights like these, I finally remove myself from first person perspective and put on the lens of third person. Egocentricity is a flaw of mankind and must consciously be fought every waking moment. I << am struggling to even write this post without even using "I," nevertheless I will continue my rambling as a stream of consciousness of the little occurrences that piqued my curiosity during this walk through the rain.
There are two young Caucasian Mormons standing outside the halls asking passerbyers "你说普通话吗？" I wonder how motivated they must be to devote a chunk of their life to learning a foreign language in order to share their beliefs to strangers on the other side of the world...and to stand in one place as time ticks away with each rain drop never knowing if their purpose will be fulfilled or whether their efforts will be in vain.
I walk by a row of taxis and minibuses parked to the side of the street in the dark. As I peer into the first window, I see the driver curled in fetus position with his front seat extended backwards. He must have a had a long day and perhaps a long night ahead of him.
As I pass the cemetery, I am reminded of death. But death is not the end.
By now my shoes are sole wet and I do not avoid the puddles. I look to my right towards the sea but I can only make out a hazy harbour where the sky and ocean should meet. The horizon has already disappeared beyond the fog creating a void illustrating our suspense in nothingness.
I follow the yellow incandescent and blue florescent glows that dimly light my way back while occasionally outstretching my palm to catch the tiny acidic droplets. There is an occasional blast of wind as a mini bus speeds by. I am completely soaked and little by little, just taking this all in.
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If I didn't write this, this memory will be a blur by the end of the night and probably fade into the abyss of my mind. I think we all needs days where we just decide to walk back home in the rain. During this time we can just put a pause all the cacophony of thinking and draw a fermata over the caesura. But this time instead of holding our breath, waiting for the conductor's signal to begin, we can take a breather and soak in the uneasy yet comfortable ring of silence.
This particular song selection doesn't really fit the mood I'm going for with the writing...but it's Gene Kelly! I can't pass that up...plus I was singing in the rain...and possibly dancing.
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