Monday, July 18, 2005

Wi-Fi Mathematics

I assigned Steve the task of being this site's guest blogger until I get back from my trip. (Odd that Blogger and BBCNews are censored in mainland China, but not the New York Times.) He's agreed to receive my updates by email. Not sure what he's prepared to churn out with all my unedited, rambling material. In any case, I miss writing and keeping track of my weird, fleeting thoughts. Hope I get the chance to post again.

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I'm currently in Hong Kong trying to negotiate some alone time before I'm perma-glued to the Rhythm Nation. Frankly, I like the confusion and hustle of large cities; the fear of getting robbed is part of the charm. I feel stifled if I'm too comfortable. Correction: I feel neutured when I'm paraded around like a bad testimonial when I could be out discovering concrete jungles. I understand that my mother isn't to blame for my feelings of suffocation. She gives me more freedom than anyone deserves, yet her parental powers -- however symbolic -- only exist to provoke me further and farther away from the source. I'm the most happy when I'm alone. Let me explain: It's not that I don't like people; it's that, I'd much rather be reassured of available company than keep them nearby. I believe the basis of all silence is an internal monologue. How else am I to make sense of what I am not hearing?

I am by my hotel window listening to the receding storm. It rumbles closely over the ever-lit streets, waiting in a bubble of tomorrow's aftermath. I am acutely aware of my surroundings, yet ... not. My fingers are doing the talking, but my mind stops to subtract. Is this persistent dualism the quality that differentiates being alone with loneliness? When I sit here on a padded chair, typing this entry and trying to beat the Wi-Fi timer, I am racing against an idea of failure, an idea of my own portrayal. Is this the multiplicity that prevents most of us from complete social desertion? Isolation? Sudden introspection?

Okay, forget everything I've said. The point is, I don't socialize when I shop. During these times of intense textile concentration, I'm out to make purchases, not friends. It's a fashion mad grab: the slow are left behind!

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I have a bruise the size of a grapefruit on my ass.

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