Depression has hit me yet again, thanks to dear Kurt. 

Or maybe I just miss my little guests? 
Or maybe I just miss the smell of Gardenia, my favorite flower.  I saw an old gentleman selling them at Central.  He had a basket-full of them. 
How could he make a living in a city like Hong Kong by selling Gardenias? 
How could those old folks make a living in a city like this by pushing carts uphills and collecting garbage? 
How could you bear to watch them doing these things?  

Queen’s Pier was closed down.  No HK senior officials showed up to listen to what the British Embassdor has to say, they went to the airport instead–to pick up two nameless Giant Pandas.   All politics.

What else? I am building buffer zones around myself.  The bubble girl, you may imagine.  

Just want to escape for a while, that’s all.  

 

 

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