2:50 p.m.

So this is it. Exams are over. Time to travel the city and learn a few things. Weather isn't optimal, in fact, it is raining. That won't hinder me however mush as long as I respect myself to commit to this plan since the beginning, wholly and fully. 

I don't know where I am going, but why bother?

(3:11~ p.m.)

The rain, well I was smart to pack an umbrella when I saw the fogginess and blurriness of the horizon cityscape. It crashes down against the tarmac pavement, reminding me of a certain night. For now I seek shelter, so under the overhang of a line of shops I waited for the rain to pass. Water reaching the internal's of my camera is something I don't ever want to risk, even if the shots I could get are good, it would be trashing away my entire future in photography.

When I was waiting around, drying my sling pouch, I took notice of a homeless person lying by the floor. He simply sat there staring into the rain. The composition was interesting enough, and without a single thought of hesitation I shot. Only when I was previewing the pictures did I realize he was looking straight at me. He called out to me, which made me freeze in shock. Had I angered the homeless man for taking a shot of him? Hearing on a bit more, I could discern his jumbled accent to be calling me over in Cantonese. I was sceptical to advance, but with the direction I am taking at this point, I don't care whatever happens to me. I don't want to be blinded by this fear that is provided to me to be adhered to. Truly, wasn't he human too?

I sat down by him, preferably at a distance at first. The smell was all that you would assume of homelessness and hygiene, both of which do not mix. I was used to the smell however, living most of my childhood in lower-income housing flats which had entrances passing the central dump chute. He was happy for my reception of his offering, in fact overjoyed slightly that a random person like me would spend the time to sit by him who would normally be despised as a beggar. The joy and satisfaction on his face only brings pain to me however that he is a social castaway in the eyes of most. We don't give time to others unless we need to sustain ourselves as a consequence or benefit.

He made some small talk and began rambling nonsense in an accent of broken Cantonese I could not for the life of it comprehend. It was truly spoken like the way you would see friends of an older generation, together, perhaps drinking coffee. As I nodded along to the nonsensical rambles, I realized this was probably the first time in a long time somebody has spent the time to listen to his outpourings. As opposed to me who had school friends, he had none more than the cardboard possessions on the floor. I could only do my best to pretend, with a plastic smile and fixed posture, giving my ears to he who needed most.

Along the rambles, something caught my ears with precision. I could unmistakably understand that he was asking me something, this time in clear Cantonese: "Are you a Buddhist?" Supposedly that were to be my religion, but I've never treated it as officiality. I was brought up in a Buddhist missionary school based in Taiwan, so it would be hard to discern myself from this association. I replied yes to him. He then asked me, "Are you suffering right now?"

Being literally bogged down from the exams was the very reason I came out walking here to wherever, so I told him my current predicament, and my current frustrations with suffering because I did not understand it, all the while, he listened.

"I don't think the suffering that you face needs comparison to be justified. Here I am living in "suffering", but does it seem that I care for it? I think suffering, as the original word's meaning says ( suffering in Chinese commonly is called 辛苦， which is homonymous with "Bitter Heart") that it arises from the heart. You, young boy, have a bitter heart. Why so?"

I told him I was frustrated at the fact that living had to be bound to the inherent suffering that takes root to all of it. I simply do not accept a world where suffering is a must, and I strived to avoid it as much as possible. I simply, could not accept it. That's really it, I-

"However much you desire to escape from suffering, it will still exist in some form, even if you don't see it with your own eyes. If you don't want to suffer, somebody else will have to suffer for you, and if that person also desires the same as you, perhaps maybe the environment has to suffer, perhaps if the environment doesn't suffer, something at the fundamental root of the environment will. This "suffering" is a form of energy. It never gets destroyed or forgotten, only passed down to other things, for other forms to possess. You pass along this suffering not only to yourself, but also inherently to others if you seek to run away from it, so why do you do so?"

He looked to me once again, with a gentle smile from whatever energy he could muster, and pointed to my camera.

"If you are suffering, then somebody doesn't have to for you, and if you aren't, then who or what is it that is suffering for you?"

I don't know. I truly didn't know. What are you asking me?

We rambled on as if olden friends, but the skies had to part eventually. The people refilled the void that is the open streets in day, so I followed. 

4:38 p.m.

I've been walking for quite a while now and looking at the time, I think its best for me to go home. I took a right turn into the bridge that was only recently built. One day they will be drawing a highway behind and into the mountains behind home, but ill come to terms with that one day. I'm sure-

I wish I could capture the entirety of all that is in my vision in the pictures I take. Cropping in really does give it a different feel. I don't know, I just want to be able to one day be able to project whatever is in my vision to the person that views my photos. There is equipment present readily able to do so, and well, you can only desire as far as your pockets can reach. The blue skies here, there's just something about walking on a bridge and seeing slowly the clouds moving above you in the corners of your eye.

Halfway down the bridge, I had a sudden thought: "My luck has never been good, this could very well be the very last time I tread upon this bridge. Tomorrow's plan may not go smoothly, or even at all." It was hard to think as so however. My left foot is starting to cramp, and we all return home eventually, don't we? At some point, we'll have to give in to any one sacrifice, which is that either I continue walking downwards towards the city and suffer more from my foot pain and risk returning home after sunset or take comfort in reaching home for a sip of water I foolishly forgot to bring. The longer I walk, the thirstier I get, and the more pain I feel with each step. Even after all of this, my camera's capture card is running full soon. There is no point for me to continue. That's why I went home, on this bridge, in the first place right?

"Life is full of compromises" 

I obstinately want the best of both but the worse of neither. Only in the end will I accept that suffering can be found in everything, even at times of elation. It's just that I am blind to it. 

I was blind to it. 

Only remaining is my blank gaze into the azure blue skies. 

5:03 p.m.

It feels as if all I did today was just walk. Photography has completely consumed my thought, disallowing me of any true searching for any meaning at all. Well, at least it feels like that to me. I had always known from other's experiences that when you are truly in the mode for taking shots, you quickly lose reason to the world surrounding you, and that is particularly true today. I've almost walked into traffic twice already, and if every single wander I do is similar to this, its only a matter of carelessness and bad timing to truly get injured. Regardless, today was just a test shot. A test of when I plan on walking towards the direction of the port, which I hope to do by this Sunday. 

I am taking a rest at a bus stop very close to home right now. My clothes are drenched in sweat, and the pain... I'll get home, wash up, and possibly go up Penang Hill. I'm exhausted.

Putting a wet umbrella in the same compartment I put this journal in wasn't too much of a bright decision.

9:29 p.m.

Both of my lower legs are beginning to cramp up heavily. No way am I fit of a condition to go up the station now, not to mention the station has already closed. I took a shower, cleaned up my camera, hoping the rain hasn't done it any particularly serious harm. This will most likely be the last time id ever think of shooting in light to moderate rain. Any misstep could be entirely fatal to it. 

Either way, I am sleeping early tonight.