Panther is not there.
We carried the electronic piano downstairs and crammed it into the backseat of the cab. I ran upstairs to fetch the guitar and locked the door and glaring Panther behind me. The driver asked, “Which route are we taking?” I hate it when the cab drivers ask this question. Use some expertise, can you? I sat in the front seat and felt an overwhelming fatigue that was taking over my body. When we got there, the bar was empty with some background music that I’d never heard. The owner of the bar greeted me by waving his right hand that was holding a burning cigarette. While they were checking the sound of the piano, I hurried out to the closest pharmacy to buy some cough syrup and withdrew some cash. It was a Wednesday evening. The street was busy as usual. I tried a few songs on stage with the guitar, and the bar owner said that he could offer some more performing opportunities in the future. I don’t remember if I answered at all.
I was holding the syrup on one hand and a glass of water on the other. My shiny purple high heels were in a bag placed just beside the stage, but I didn’t bother to change them. I kept my bright blue snow boots on despite the scorching lighting. I watched the audience from the stage. It was a small room filled with people I know, at least most of them. The guitar strings even seemed looser. I found no particular reason to be nervous, except that my throat wasn’t exactly in its best condition. I saw a crowd of people, but I saw no one. Some people were standing in the small courtyard outside peeping through the open window. Some were talking and some smoking. I tried to make time to talk with everyone I know, but I ended up coughing my way out every time. The drummer friend stared at my necklace for as long as a minute and finally asked, “What do these letters mean?” They had a meaning indeed. He sat through the whole thing even though he only had to drum for two or three songs. I kept asking him if he was hungry, as if some food could make up for his wasted time.
I don’t know which is more accurate, that I’m losing my cat or that I haven’t found it yet. Sometimes you hold on to that one straw and force yourself to believe that it would save your life. What you care is that straw, not whether you’ll be saved or not. A random girl accused me of filling my life with useless things and ignoring my health. I didn’t care enough to reason with her, or maybe I didn’t have enough reasons anyway. I said to Cat before goodnight that I think I’m perfectly capable of letting go of all the things in this world. All the things in me, around me and beyond. She said now that it’s done, we can move on. Let’s get back to normality. This morning I took HOOKED ON PHILOSOPHY from my bookshelf and put it in my bag. I took a deep deep breath in the smog or pollution or whatever you call it, and I was 87% sure that I’d miss the grey sky if I’d ever leave Beijing for good.
It was just one of those days that will never come back. I was kept awake on the phone till after 2:00 a.m., and I felt nothing but tired. Between talking and sleeping, I was surprised by the amount of patience I had. Are there actually people who are absolutely satisfied with their life, where they are, what they do and who they’re with? Maybe there are, but with a definite term. We carried the piano with a piece of cloth wrapping around it, which resembled the shape of a dead body under the cover of the night, and climbed the stairs quietly. I guess at the end of the day it doesn’t really matter if it’s someone taking care of me or the other way around. Fear and uncertainty don’t go away; they will always be around. Why don’t you trust your decision and hang on to it for a change? I stared at Panther and he stared back. Maybe he secretly wants to be me, because he’s always on my spot when I’m not at home. People have a thousand excuses to be absent, but what counts are the times when they’re present. I killed the light and fell asleep peacefully, as if nothing just happened and nothing was ever going to happen.
- Nov. 8th
I was holding the syrup on one hand and a glass of water on the other. My shiny purple high heels were in a bag placed just beside the stage, but I didn’t bother to change them. I kept my bright blue snow boots on despite the scorching lighting. I watched the audience from the stage. It was a small room filled with people I know, at least most of them. The guitar strings even seemed looser. I found no particular reason to be nervous, except that my throat wasn’t exactly in its best condition. I saw a crowd of people, but I saw no one. Some people were standing in the small courtyard outside peeping through the open window. Some were talking and some smoking. I tried to make time to talk with everyone I know, but I ended up coughing my way out every time. The drummer friend stared at my necklace for as long as a minute and finally asked, “What do these letters mean?” They had a meaning indeed. He sat through the whole thing even though he only had to drum for two or three songs. I kept asking him if he was hungry, as if some food could make up for his wasted time.
I don’t know which is more accurate, that I’m losing my cat or that I haven’t found it yet. Sometimes you hold on to that one straw and force yourself to believe that it would save your life. What you care is that straw, not whether you’ll be saved or not. A random girl accused me of filling my life with useless things and ignoring my health. I didn’t care enough to reason with her, or maybe I didn’t have enough reasons anyway. I said to Cat before goodnight that I think I’m perfectly capable of letting go of all the things in this world. All the things in me, around me and beyond. She said now that it’s done, we can move on. Let’s get back to normality. This morning I took HOOKED ON PHILOSOPHY from my bookshelf and put it in my bag. I took a deep deep breath in the smog or pollution or whatever you call it, and I was 87% sure that I’d miss the grey sky if I’d ever leave Beijing for good.
It was just one of those days that will never come back. I was kept awake on the phone till after 2:00 a.m., and I felt nothing but tired. Between talking and sleeping, I was surprised by the amount of patience I had. Are there actually people who are absolutely satisfied with their life, where they are, what they do and who they’re with? Maybe there are, but with a definite term. We carried the piano with a piece of cloth wrapping around it, which resembled the shape of a dead body under the cover of the night, and climbed the stairs quietly. I guess at the end of the day it doesn’t really matter if it’s someone taking care of me or the other way around. Fear and uncertainty don’t go away; they will always be around. Why don’t you trust your decision and hang on to it for a change? I stared at Panther and he stared back. Maybe he secretly wants to be me, because he’s always on my spot when I’m not at home. People have a thousand excuses to be absent, but what counts are the times when they’re present. I killed the light and fell asleep peacefully, as if nothing just happened and nothing was ever going to happen.
- Nov. 8th
