At 9am I rose from bed and shook the cobwebs from my head Picked up beer bottles from the floor and cans of tonic water too Last night’s outfit slumbered on the ground and I kicked it aside and lay back down Of course I did not feel all that swell, not even remotely well For last night (well, morning) I returned home And chugged some water, and whined and moaned So much, so much, so much, so much A promise I’ve made quite far too much, But such is the life I’ve chosen and lived and let’s be honest— It’s kind of great To have the luxury to complain Of the insane things I do to myself Seeking sympathy where it’s neither earned or ordained. I chatted with Chinese girls and Eastern European models Who are tall and lanky and move like this And people think of evening trysts But instead I do nothing and gawk and stare And wonder why I’ve drunk right to the brink And on the Sunday morning I think If I had a chance well, oops, I failed Discombobulated, senses assailed By drunken reveling in the street Of taxis and meat, evening kebabs Tsui Wah wrappers, and men whose jobs It seems is to wear tight t-shirts and Pour Patron messily, and understand that They’re only just a little bit More sleazy than you or me. All this I thought as I opened my eyes, As I looked through the window and the sun’s glowing guise Called out to me and it said this: Good morning, Yalun! You waste of space, You nocturnal ninny, fallen off your face These nights! What the hell do you think you’re doing? You were blessed with chances, opportunities even! But every night you’re out with Zach and Stephen Wasting your life as the years go by You’ll wake up 30, 40, die And never know that simple love, A mountain sunrise, grace from above— You only know basements and tin-can laughter You only know that after comes after Look at yourself—oh wait, you can’t With your swollen eyes And your immobile soul With your childhood dreams reduced to squeaks Made to the void, your life replaced With lemon drop shots and whisky base You live life lightly tiptoeing on air I wonder if there’s anything left there? And I thought damn, sun, you’re really harsh Is partying such an awful crime? I’m on the right side of 30, I feel sublime Well, I feel hungover but isn’t that A testament to wondrous nights? If I net out the ups And downs I get A balanced life And that’s what it’s about. Balance and maybe a sense of pride The joys of being young, alive Of knowing life’s ephemeral, even The namesie swapsies with Zach and Stephen Why hurt me with your unjust lies By your bright arrival, by your judging rays? But the sun said nothing and continued to shine And I tried to make the room real dark And it kind of worked: in the half-light Of day and night I thought about what each of us said. The sun will do what it’s always done And light our world and bring us life And I will do what I’ve always done And have a drink and toast us all. Yalun Tu is a columnist for HK Magazine. You can reach him at email@example.com or @yaluntu on Twitter.