Secrets From A Life Away
October 14, 2026
What do you mean?
Well it was all quite simple to be honest with you.
Like how, how did you end up here?
Well I had an opportunity with a stroke of luck. I knew I wanted to come back to this city, I had enough of NYC and wanted something closer to home. Maybe just reconnect with my roots a bit more you know? I just asked the team and luckily they had a spot open since another person left for a MF PE offer.
And they just sent you here?
Moved that same week without telling anyone.
One of my favorite wine bars lies in a Hong Kong neighborhood adjacent to Central, quiet enough to talk yet busy enough to feel the bleeding innocence of people as the masks are uncovered by rosy reds and the sommelier’s favorite light white for the ladies. I’ve found in this city particularly, stories collide in a uniquely international sense painted on the background of an Asian culture. It brings me to question the realities of other as I too, lose track of time as pours continue and the smell of corks trouble my inexperienced nose.
Imagine all the encounters you brush with others, mixing only by chance and, if your determined, with reason. I seldom think of the many stories or personalities I miss, something we will never know as we walk by. The different experiences for different people, missed amongst the faces we do see and experiences we have ourselves. Some things shared and never to be connected again, some perhaps join us for another night. The streets of a busy Friday night invoke a vision in me, seeing the light trails of others as they jump from bar to bar or restaurant, crossing only when necessary, yet necessary for the time. Sometimes bound to have met, sometimes bound to have only crossed at a different vector. The trails we leave behind go beyond the aroma cloud of colognes and perfumes, extending into the pure energy we share with others. A limited experience, yet one powerful enough to line the sidewalks and roads with a heartbeat of the city.
I see this many times over in Hong Kong, a city perhaps known for the tight knit living and densely filled opportunity. In one night, it is almost inevitable to see the people you know, or have at least shared the same sidewalk and bartender, only relatively. The brush of a sleeve, the turn of a block, the corner of the eye missed only by the pollution of colors and life that cloud the judgement of your senses. It is impossible to remotely come to understand the lives of others through this manner of brief connection, yet it is beautifully telling. A constant visit to a coffee shop, a frequent to their favorite Negroni, and daily commute. Indeed lacking telling, but seeing in others perhaps proves a different angle they themselves do not see. It is at the mercy of our imagination, that we can leverage what we see.
For the nerdy girl, they are bogged down in Real Analysis 131A at the cafe, but for the outsider looking in, they could be writing the proofs for Navier-Stokes, so entangled in the world of greek letters that they have become fluent in the language without ever reading a single Greek piece. Maybe they even see the likes of Newton and Gauss arguing amongst themselves in their heads on the next corollary bounding their arguments.
For the bartender’s 3rd run of a Negroni of the night, the inebriate realizes that he forgot to do laundry, dreading his work tomorrow as he wears his last clean dress shirt, only to be spoiled by pellets of tomato sauce from dinner. The unassuming outsider who just came in may assume that his date is in the loo, clearing up her lipstick and hair before coming back out to finish her singular Spritz. Perhaps the two met through a friend and this is their first date since she moved into the city while he’s still getting over an attached ex.
For the trader holding a painting in between their armpits as they frantically text their friend to come to their exhibit after work, they are troubled with coming up with a story for why the fuck they are bringing a painting into the office and explaining the work to any who asks. Yet, seeing such may lead the outsider to believe they are a world class artist that is yet to be known. The abstract combination of warmth and cold paint reflects off the ground, bringing a vision of summertime beaches and wintertime snow on the subway. Maybe they are even selling in the upcoming Sotheby’s exhibit and this is their one chance after years of getting overlooked and getting 2nd place.
We simply cannot comprehend it all. If any were to try to, it would be more of a testament of our time and imagination than our willingness to hear the mundane stories of math proofs, dirty laundry, and a gift for a colleague. Most times, many lives may be as mundane as they sound, filled with imprinted steps across the same sidewalks home, the same Starbucks order that’s memorized by the same employee, and the same lazy Sunday mornings in bed. But I’d like to think and let my imagination run wild enough to bring a unique story to the people I share a train, tram, table, and streets with. Perhaps they are even more enigmatic than what I have conjured.
Needless to say, I think there is a beauty in seeing the unknown amongst others even if we never get to hear the truth, story, or even name.
It is very much this, in which the human condition flourishes to fill the gaps.
