And than it is 3:58 am in Hong Kong. Reading about Psycho Geography for my work with Allison I found this thing. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chaos_magic
I still don’t understand. Even the green tea Kit Kat is not helping. I think on Sting singing Message in a Bottle.
Just a cast away an island lost at sea-o
HOng Kong. I am not lost in this see.
I am neon color, high, high buildings, loud laugh, Winnie, I am those streets a bit brazil a bit new york. I am being push by the gaps I find in my expectation of this place.
Curiosity. I speak with the cashier from the night market.
Karen and all the trees growing from the concrete. No order.
I stopped to search for known words, old words, in my vocabulary to explain the new. Yes, the other, the new, that I eat, that I feel, that I digest in a search for new words, experiences. To expand.
Walked out this morning I don’t believe what I saw
A hundred billion bottles washed up on the shore
Seems I’m not alone in being alone
A hundred billion castaways looking for a home
I am not alone, I don’t feel alone. I sent my bottles, and magic… they, they got it.