So they’re throwing bags of water at us from the 9th or so after skating post-midnight. Totally unaware of the noise going for kick-flips on the shiny-red paving. That end of Temple Street was good for it, drank there a few times on the curbs pre-COVID. We left sharp without quarrel, not a clue who it was and aware of the nuisance. The next night an old guy chasing a kid jogging half effort. He’s going for it, out of breath. Ahead, a big guy stands in the road arms out, realises the old boy is wild and retreats, the fugitive kid changes direction and plods off with a bag of food hanging in hand – a serious lack of urgency.

Why didn’t you help me, he slurs in Canto. He hit me, here – points at his chest. Missing words and off. He seemed a decent kid just heading home – impossible, surely.

The next night, the same curb drinking minus boards. Too many police as is normal of now. Masks were raised twice, faces recognised and fine deterred. On leaving, just downstairs of home, a piss in the alley – rat-ridden jumping past the bins dark arrows the grills. I’m on one corner, friends the other. 90 done and pigs again, fast retreat holding tight. Run! Fuck the fine, up the stairs! They didn’t see you, go out the other – fast to the 8th, switching cases midway, through the door the room and safe.

Next night, waiting for trouble. Changed into a $50 mildly expensive UNIQUO, hanging in an alley writing with a can. Changed in the adjacent well. I’m getting shot by tourists, or resident enthusiasts. Half as wild as before.

It’s such a bad vibe here now. I’m not just talking about the work, I’ve never really liked the vibe, prefer to chill and that. But the rest is fucked. Man, I swear the towers are redder. Coincidence?

I like the speed. It’s what I’m used to.

Yeah, you do too much man. Your a tourist.

–

Someone else leaning for London or anywhere, asking for recommendations on cities and work. You won’t be doing social work over there. They’ll have you head off. Need to have been on crack or the street for the respect of them kids.

No more Red and his Thai shop. Said he was off on the 17th. Couldn’t even attend the final drinks cause of the lockdown. Restaurants closed to in and out eaters. Can’t celebrate with a takeaway, if that’s what you wanna call it. Was going back to Vietnam. Thought it was strange a guy from there with a Thai place. Was a bit of an odd ball. Free dishes, drinks and skewers. His wife was a Diva, shiny and radiant in baggy yellow, black emblazoned. Black and bleached mullet, sharp eyes and a shiny face. 80s stardom in San Po Kong. It does remind you of Sai Ying Pun 20 years ago. Hills and steps and local. ZEPPELIN HOT DOG SHOP is a good replacement, black capitals on solid yellow – fitting.

You are totally hustling. Always. Reflect on that. And devise some kind of escape. There is no goal except your doing and your doing is too much and messy.

Ensure you’ve the cash for rain and the inevitable winding down. And then slow down.

Make sure you’re never left behind.