i walk past a child squatting a metre from cartier, his parents whistle him on as a pool of urine slowly coat the pavement around him.
what the fu— i mean, welcome to TST.
i come here mostly to develop film and eat fried chicken. this is one of those 'always-a-buzz' places, one you definitely avoid if you hate life. my favourite way to arrive is on a ferry, where i know i am graced with 5-8 minutes of my own personal space before my surroundings envelope and swallow me whole.
people spill over the zebra lines at every pedestrian crossing, and though it never smells as pungent as mongkok or china, there are scents every few hundred yards that can penetrate through your imagination. some i can only describe as, 'WHUT'.
there is the walk of stars or stars walk or something to do with stars which i have never walked because i would rather jump into the water a few feet away. there are museums that are some of the worst museums i have ever been too (government budget is definitely all going into reclaiming land and developing transport). i guess it could be a shopper's paradise but we all know that is just an incorrect anagram for my nightmare.
i recently chanced upon this view though, from a random balcony hosting some lost/tired mainlanders located on the second floor of harbour city.
if you need your mind cleared it is a nice place to sit, or you could take a self-portrait with the view — may require setting up the frame and running downstairs in 30 seconds.
proceed to celebrate this feat with some takoyaki from the nearest food court.