I’m glad you liked the last one, Leigh - here’s the first one I did for that assignment. She asked me to map out dangers in my life. Here it is:
Life Map
Live in Fear ©
1.Waking up.
Seeing as my temporary Hong Kong apartment would make an ideal home for an anorexic mosquito, there really isn’t much to be feared in all its minuscule, 65 square-foot glory - despite, of course, the inherent dangers of claustrophobia and the ever-present danger of being wedged between the toilet and the wall in its match-box sized bathroom.
2.Eating Breakfast.
Here, of course, the dangers are plentiful. Attempting to make tea in the drawer-like labyrinth I call home is as dangerous as climbing Mount Everest armed with nothing but Kleenex, 1-ply toilet paper, and a small porcelain lunch-box. Filled with raisins. I can all-too-frequently be seen juggling a kettles-worth of searing liquid while standing upright on a makeshift desk - mug in hand - singing “We Shall Overcome” as I wade through row upon row of stubborn furniture, yearning to be free.
3.Working.
The dangers of being ferociously Failed are a constant and unsettling reality in the everyday travail. As I write nonsensical paragraphs, entertaining myself with hugely irrelevant references to my daily rituals - I imagine half-heartedly what fate will befall me when my teacher opens this tomb of monstrously morose musings only to discover a blatant display of disillusioned doodling. Uncertainty plagues me as I willfully wonder what wrathful grade will befall me, tainting my scholarly reputation with tales of randomly written romps of the literary kind.
4.Going to Central (Going Dontown)
Here comes the moment of truth. Only time will tell whether our protagonist will escape the dangers of man and machine - making leaps and bounds like Frogger through an un-tamed intersection - only to live another day in the clutches of fear, wearing a tinfoil hat and refusing to make eye contact with the Mafia-affiliated front desk.
Eagerly we wait, blunt objects in hand, our eyes peeled as the free-roaming Fernando frolics past a cluster of youthful thuggery, risking the possibility of being leapt at enthusiastically by one such ager of the “teen” variety; proceeding in a timely fashion to unseat me with a throaty scream.
5.Coming Home to Sleep
Dusk arrives, and the saga continues. There isn’t much that could happen in terms of danger on the way back from downtown (Hong Kong is a surprisingly safe city. In fact, it’s much safer than Vancouver, statistically.) There are, however, a few dangers that exist in every city, and Hong Kong is no exception. For example, I could be stabbed, hit by a car (I would be harder to see at night), or get lost and fall into a ditch somewhere, forced to lull myself into a false sense of security before falling prey to a particularly pessimistic existential crisis.
Therefore I’m not?
