I realized tonight how much I miss Hong Kong; there’s a crazy buzz of energy here that I just don’t feel in the same way in Singapore. There’s also a dry stickiness in the back of my throat and my eyes are sore, but I can keep telling myself that’s symptomatic of getting up early for the plane rather than the air quality here.
Walking down Elgin Street to the comedy club tonight, I was struck by how lively it was, how everyone was out at the start of a crazy Friday night. Except me. But these were all twentysomethings, apparently free from worry or responsibility. Perhaps I was just feeling nostalgia for a time and place that had never existed. Moving to Hong Kong again wouldn’t magically reverse the aging process (more likely accelerate it).
But most of all, it feels now like a party I haven’t got an invitation for: I can’t drink that hard or party that hard any more, if indeed I ever could. That’s not necessarily a bad thing, even if I do miss it.
I got back on stage for the first time this year; sitting in a freezing cold green room before my set, wishing I’d rehearsed more, it was a bit like a return to another past life of mine, where the laughter of strangers outweighed due care and attention for my daughter. Perhaps some things are meant to change, but perhaps we hope not yet.
I think I had a good set, despite my ill-preparedness, despite the audience, perhaps despite my material. I’ll have to wait until I’ve watched the video back to know for sure though. For now I can just wonder what this evening was a glimpse at, and where I should be looking.