Chaotic beauty is where my heart rests

For just a fraction of a moment...

I am there again in Ximen-ding, waiting outside exit 6 smoking a cigarette. Waves of people spill out from the subway, a sea of black hair, polka dots, and pointed shoes. Old men perched on concrete stumps like vulchers hunting for their pray. Young girls with doeish eyes so wide, scouring the twinkling displays of jewelry. The sizzle of dough and eggs on a broiler, garlic and soy sauce carrying with the wind. Strolling through the crowded aisles, dazzling lights that dance with vaguely recognizable characters, sucking slimy brown balls through giant straws and sipping milk tea.

It's so clear. Every alley, every turn... I feel it, am breathing it as it engulfs me


Before I could only grasp at fading memories...pictures retain their stories, but the places forgotten. The life of the moment vanished.

But this is untainted by nostalgia. It is beautifully pure.


I am here again.