I can't let myself get too comfortable in Hong Kong. Because every time I do, I forget I'm on a holiday and I really don't want to leave. Everyone wonders why I go back to Hong Kong again and again and again, and I'm still not tired of it. I wonder why too.

This trip back was familiar in so many ways, yet I felt different somehow. I stopped remembering the life I had there and stopped holding tight to the strings I had on places I didn't want to forget. My holidays in Hong Kong are never really holidays, to me, the city is like an extended part of Singapore, a part that I cross to using a secret portal, and I go into that place twice a year. I know some places like the back of my hand, and I can finally take you through the entire Mongkok without getting lost in the identical streets. This time, I went back as me, a me that already feels at home in Hong Kong, but the me that has changed since leaving two years ago and has graduated from university. I explored, embraced and loved every minute of it. Suddenly, the world felt like my oyster. I could one day live in the Asian city of my dreams, the city I already call my second home.

Kohei remembered the last conversation I had with him about my desire to live and work in Hong Kong. I don't remember much of it because that dream felt far away at that time, and was a far-fetched memory of my dreamy nature where my ambitions go on unreached pedestals. But when he reminded me of it this time around, he looked at me in all seriousness and asked me why not. Kohei is a Japanese that speaks no Cantonese, and he lives and works in Hong Kong. He always emphasises how it would be easier for me because I speak English, Cantonese and Mandarin (although he doesn't have a clue how bad I really am) and how the possibility is so tangible.

It's strange how all my best friends in Hong Kong are all male, and I have almost zero close male friends in Singapore. I have a few theories, and they lie along the peripherals of the Singaporean male being too full of themselves. They lack a certain something which I'm still currently trying to figure out. Whenever I touch down in Hong Kong, all I have to do is send one single text message to Joseph and he contacts all my friends to let them know I'm back, and a dinner is arranged within the next two days. The dinners end up being treats, and they walk around the entire Mongkok with me trying to find a camera underwater housing.

I met a Singaporean woman at Phoebe's church, The Vine, on Sunday. She has been living in Hong Kong for 13 years, and is married to a Caucasian man. In between playing with her adorable son Brandon and listening to the best sermon I've heard in years, I had so many burning questions to ask her about living there. Unfortunately, she had to leave early because Brandon was fussing.

The three main topics of conversations on this trip were swine flu, the perfect weather and how a certain someone has shrunk in size. Funny days I will always remember - Beverly exclaiming how the seats on the Peak tram became smaller, bad English and Mandarin and the man that couldn't stop talking about Diamond Hill and Sai Kung. The hike up Amah Rock, the late nights, no sleep, Hui Lau Shan's, KTV, wearing masks and taking pictures on the MTR (discussing how we looked like turtles instead of identifying with the real purpose of why we were wearing them), Bubba Gump at the Peak and pretending we were in winter, Joseph's apartment in Mongkok and his singing parodies, the royal treatment in the Shenzhen spa, the very cute immigration officer who tried to flirt with us, the inspiring church service at The Vine, speaking with an American accent in Bottega Veneta and asking how much everything was in USD, visiting all five H&Ms and buying something from every one and learning from Gary (now a proud employee of H&M Langham Place, i.e: very beneficial to me) that I'm on the employee welcome video under "H&M Opening Day in Hong Kong" - according to him, I smiled happily at the camera and did the peace sign.

I didn't want to leave, this time more than others. By the end of the six days, I felt like I belonged once again to my community of friends. I knew it the minute I stepped out of Shenzhen and felt like returning to Hong Kong was home, forgetting that I had a flight to catch that night back to Singapore. I have to try to break this attachment and I'm promising myself to try not to go back for a year, unless I make my dreams a reality.

This post is rather disjointed, much like my thoughts right now. I don't know what I'm going at with all these dreams at all.