News broke today that 25 people died in a ferry collision in HK. My newsfeed on FB is full of updates about the accident and condolences from journalists in HK and acquaintances.

All these remind me of the hostage incident and its aftermath. One evening, after weeks of endless coverage and headlines, I asked my boss as we were both smoking in the alleyway: what's with the excessive, borderline obsessive coverage? He paused for a second and said: Hongkongers value life. I didn't feel like arguing with him, and in a way I was expecting him to say something more philosophical, so I said nothing. I think he's wrong. He made it seem like such is a trait almost unique to Hongkongers. Most people on this planet value life, especially when it comes to those close to them, or even just people that they know, recognise and say hi to out of physical proximity, habits and routines. It's Hongkongers' sense of identity and (the politically incorrect) encroachment by mainlanders that unite them. On top of that, there's the sense of safety, security of a developed and efficient city; the pseudo policy of let's-not-really-bother-with-regulation-until-someone-dies-and-then-blame-whoever-for-its-grosteque-lack-of-oversight and the commercial free press that sensationalises everything to appeal to the masses that are too lazy to be intellectually challenged and/or too comfortable to see life outside of the city an/or too unfortunate to be stuck at the bottom of the world's biggest wealth gap.

Oh the irony of Hongkongers dying on their way to see the mainland National Day fireworks at the harbour, followed by the scripted, typical speech from one of the officials at the liaison's office, something along the lines of: "we are in contact with the relevant department to ensure that lives that can still be saved will be saved." Name the department at the very least?

Less money on National curriculum and more money on swimming lessons would be good for the city's future generations.

RIP to the 25 people.

The older we get, the more we care about our place in the world and hence how the world sees us.

It's interesting to hear her analyse how she has been and still is being treated because of her gender and her ethnicity in a profession known for its notorious lack of diversity and its few women in the top positions. If it were anyone else less successful who speaks about encounters with male contractors or white men in business this way, I would be inclined to think that it's some kind of internalised, possibly slightly irrational bias. Coming from her, at least I try to put myself in her shoes, and it make a little bit of sense when I think about this country and this profession as she knew it as a young adult. But it still doesn't sit well with me.

Gender, ethnicity and sexuality. There is no doubt that these identities are sources of inequalities, explicit and implicit discrimination. No matter how far the law goes to uphold equality and to artificially adjusts the imbalance, it will always be there because putting things and people in categories (and hence stereotypes) help us make sense of the world. That's not a problem in itself. The problem is that I can confidently say that most people lack the awareness of how such categorisation influences their judgment. Except for when I voted for Labour in the Federal election in 2008 and when I passed exams, I don't think I was ever in the majority. My readiness to disregard minority status as a factor affecting how the world sees us can easily translates to ignorance. That said, I would much rather attribute my failures to things that I did or didn't do and kick myself many times over. At least there is some hope of improvement.

I think I'm starting to be set in my ways (it's about time anyway) because I'm just recycling ideas in my head, over and over again.

A good dose of crazy, a good dose of clandestine fun, a good dose of sunshine by the world's stadium of 2012 and a good dose of youth/ recklessness in the fitting room.

I was furious about the letter from her lawyer, but my anger and frustration were short lived. Once I vented over the phone and got it out of my system, I know it's just part of life and my bad luck this year. Thank God for friends who lend their ears and their presence.

The status quo is the consequence of possibly the strangest decision I have ever made. Your heart tells you one thing and your head tells you another. 

I just know that you can rip my heart out if I let you. And I won't.

Humans are poor lie detectors. Every single uttered word can be a calculated move. No, I'm not paranoid. I'm just not very gullible. If it were anyone else who said all those things, I would be much more inclined to believe her.

Innocence gives one the entitlement to be righteous, to be harsh, to be unsympathetic and critical. Once upon a time, I viewed meddlers as pathetic, as being dragged by the nose and carrying with them the lack of pride to settle as second best. But as always, once you find yourself in the position previously thought to be unenviable, your minds strives for congruence, justification and peace.

A part of me anticipated this as an unavoidable consequence following that phone call. But another part felt that if there's no room for me to meddle by my mere presence, you would have said no, walked away and I would have found another way to deal with my problem. Desperate times called for desperate measures. And no, it was not an excuse to lure you back into my life.

Would I rather be her? Not at all. The lack of a sense of entitlement means it's all about here and now, and when this arrangement expires, nothing else will linger.

How did I get here?

The last couple of weeks has been exhausting, in part due to my irrational fear of rodents. Time and time again, I found myself stuck in a room that I loved fearing the woman and those goddamn furry things on the outside. Her hyterical screaming and crying were unnerving. I am not devoid of sympathy, I'm really not. If I were in her unfortunate position, I would have bolted from my home long ago. But the way she reacted to the news that she would have to leave when her lease ends was frightening. (I figured back then from the rotten egg incident that little things could tick her off and how unreasonable her reaction could be so in a way, I saw it coming but it wasn't something that I could have avoided doing). I was shaken up by her knocking on my door and confronting me about it repeatedly, saying how she refuses to leave and will refuse to pay rent. Now she has racked up two nights' hotel bill that she wants me to foot.

Their good intention has effectively backfired on me and on them as well. It's probably more bad luck than anything else, but definitely an important lesson learnt as a law student: draft bullet-proof documents and follow the correct procedures to fend of unreasonable people.

Friends are always the ones who save the day. 

"People are like lice - they get under your skin and bury themselves there. You scratch and scratch until the blood comes, but you can't get permanently deloused. Everywhere I go people are making a mess of their lives. Everyone has his private tragedy. It's in the blood now - misfortune, ennui, grief, suicide. The atmosphere is saturated with disaster, frustration, futility. Scratch and scratch - until there is no skin left. "

Tropic of Cancer - Henry Miller