Much to the chagrin of, well, everyone—Halloween is over. Not to rise like a vampire until next year. Gone are the alcohol-fueled dress-ups, vanished are the themed costumes, and transformed are the storefront light installations. Only in Hong Kong will you see a pumpkin turn into a Santa turn into a Chinese New Year dragon. If you’re one of the lucky ones, vestiges of Halloween might linger behind, like the zombie schoolgirl in your bed—but for the rest of us, by November we’re left only with the memories.
I remember:
- The party before Halloween. Too many drinks. Clubbing in costumes. Lights, camera, spectacle.
- Halloween night. Crowd central. I had a beer, looked at the LKF rabble from Wyndham, then headed home before I was stuck in the police maze.
- Ocean Park Halloween. This was my favorite. This was wonder.
What does “wonder” mean? Well, I’m glad you asked, handsome Yalun. You’re welcome, creative and super handsome Yalun. Let me explain:
As a kid, wonder is often and plentiful. Think the phrase “childlike wonder.” But by the age of 12 wonder slowly drains away. Life becomes routine, goals become long-term: where am I going with my career? How can I save up to buy an apartment? These are good questions, but they don’t fill us with magic.
Compounded on this is the repetition of once-wondrous experience. You know what it’s like to get drunk, you’ve eaten amazing meals, you know what the inside of Dragon-i looks like. The first time I went to a club was ridiculous. Lights flashed and music blared. Girls would laugh and grind with you. This will never get old, I thought.
In some ways it hasn’t. It’s still great to laugh and grind with girls. It’s still great to dance and do shots.
But it’s not wonder. Wonder is when you feel there’s something magical out there. Wonder is a fantasy that’s created for you.