An upward spiral without an exit, just a trick, a mirage, a cul-de-sac that tempts us to the top, only to force us back down.

Hong Kong: A loop that goes up, but, sooner or later, just ends and beckons a treacherous descent. A city for sisyphisian suckers pushing through ever deeper muck and steeper slopes, only to be rewarded with the stone walls of imperial palaces never to be entered.

Yet, with communal sighs of ‘what else?’ echoing from each step forward, we pierce through the smoggy ether that blankets this city and we push.

Forces drive us. Hopeful yearning, wretched greed, domestic devotion compel us. For we know the path down is so much worse. The corpses of excess and lethargy would be our companions on that road back. Fear of surrendering to that fate pushes us.

Imagining life in the towers of the imperial palaces is a distraction for the climb. An upward spiral without an exit: Hong Kong’s most provocative illusion.