It is noon on a muggy August day in Hong Kong. Patrick Wong*, 20, has just eaten a breakfast of instant noodles and vegetables with his parents at a nearby cha chaan teng, an old-school local diner. Now he is preparing for another long Sunday on the streets.

He is packing a black T-shirt, a yellow helmet, and a pair of goggles that can withstand 0.22-calibre bullets. He hopes for a peaceful march, as organisers and protesters have planned, but he is preparing for the worst.

He stashes a bottle of saline solution to wash tear gas or pepper spray from his eyes. He has been hit by both in past protests. “We don’t know what could happen,” he says.

In June, Wong took part in mass demonstrations against a bill that would allow extradition to China. Like many other Hongkongers, he has been to every major rally since – at times on the front lines, facing off against riot police or further back, where he helps ferry supplies to the “fighters” at the front.

“It’s our civic responsibility to defend our city,” he says. “It’s our home.”

Wong’s affection for Hong Kong is obvious in the apartment he shares with his parents. Books about the city’s public transit system dot the shelves and a poster featuring the city’s various models of buses hangs on the wall. He keeps a record collection of Hong Kong’s best-known Cantopop stars.

Flyers from protests clutter a table in the living room. “Go on strike! Strive for life,” one reads.

Play Video 2:16 'We are trying to save Hong Kong': the political uprising through the eyes of a protester - video

As Wong gets ready to leave, he points out the view of Victoria Harbour. “I just love this place. I love everything here,” he says. “The people, the language, popular culture, and urban vibe. You don’t get this anywhere else – only in Hong Kong.”

But Hong Kong has changed. Over the past month, clashes between protesters and police have escalated dramatically. A woman was reportedly blinded in one eye by a bean bag round fired by police. More than 700 people have been arrested, 44 of them charged with rioting, a crime that carries a 10-year sentence.

Last week, Wong was among thousands who brought the international airport to a standstill during a sit-in that lasted several days. In tense and ugly scenes protesters argued with travellers, clashed with police and mobbed two men believed to be Chinese spies.

Facebook Twitter Pinterest Wong checks his safety gear in his family home Photograph: Rick Findler

After apologies were issued by protesters, demonstrators called for a weekend of peaceful protests – the first in more than two months.

Sunday’s protest is “to show support of the movement remains intact”, he says. “The fact we can call a million people to the street again shows support has not died down.”

“I would rather be ashes than dust”

Under grey skies at 12.45pm, Wong makes his way toward the march’s starting point in Victoria Park. The MTR underground station near his home is already crowded.

Commuters, in black T-shirts and holding umbrellas queue neatly for the train. They break into a familiar slogan from the protests: “Hong Kong people, add oil!” which translates roughly as “Go for it, Hong Kong people!”

We have tried blocking the airport, the MTR, and government facilities. None of it has worked Patrick Wong

After more than two months of protests, Wong says demonstrators now disagree over what to do next. The government has not responded to their demands, which include a permanent withdrawal of the extradition bill, dropping charges against arrested protesters and conducting an investigation into police behaviour. Now Beijing is showing off its troops across the border.

“We have been on the streets, throwing bricks, throwing stones … to force the government to respond to the public, but throughout this month, the government has not responded,” Wong says. “We have tried blocking the airport, the MTR, and government facilities. None of it has worked.”

On the train, Wong scrolls through LIHKG, the reddit-like forum where the protesters have organised, and Telegram, where scouts post sightings of police.

What do the Hong Kong protesters want? Read more

He opens his Instagram account and brings up a line from a poem by Jack London, the American novelist and activist: “I would rather be ashes than dust.”

Chris Patten, the former governor of Hong Kong, referenced the poem in his last address before Hong Kong was handed over to Chinese rule in 1997. “He was worried not that Beijing would take away Hong Kong’s freedoms or autonomy, but that Hong Kong people would give them up,” Wong says.

“When I think about this quote, 22 years later, it really fits. It’s like it’s telling me to keep the faith.”

‘This may be the last time’

Victoria Park, a patch of lush greenery in the middle of a busy shopping district, is the biggest park on Hong Kong island. As large as six football pitches, it can hold about 100,000 people and is full by the time Wong and a friend arrive at 3pm, after a quick lunch at McDonald’s.

Wong strains to hear speeches broadcast over loudspeakers. One group of protesters begins to chant “Five demands, not one less!”

Facebook Twitter Pinterest Protest gear, including sodium chloride to help against tear gas. Photograph: Rick Findler

Protesters are calling for universal suffrage in Hong Kong, but Wong admits it is also the most ambitious of their goals. The leader of Hong Kong is chosen by a committee that is largely pro-Beijing. “The bottom line for Chinese authorities is to maintain control” he says.

Many doubt Beijing would ever allow Hong Kong residents to pick their own leaders and a growing minority of protesters are advocating for independence.

Wong is not sure how it would work. “There are millions of People’s Liberation Army soldiers here and [China] has nuclear weapons … We don’t have an aircraft carrier cruising along South China sea to protect us.”

The sky darkens and it begins to rain. Hundreds of umbrellas are opened at once. Someone shouts out: “Hong Kong people!” The group shouts back: “Add oil!”

Facebook Twitter Pinterest Wong joins other protesters as they make their way from Victoria Park to Admiralty. Photograph: Rick Findler

Wong is not optimistic that today or subsequent rallies will push the government to respond, but he won’t give up. “Every time I stand on the street I tell myself this may be the last time because the next day the People’s Liberation Army could storm into Hong Kong and forbid any kind of protests.”

‘The sense of end of the world is coming sooner’

The protesters, a slow-moving sea of umbrellas, have begun to march toward central Hong Kong. Wong, unfazed by the rain, walks through puddles, his shirt and backpack soaked through.

It’s a route he has walked many times. Wong’s first protest was in 2013, a march he attended with his uncle, also calling for universal suffrage. “I remember that afterwards nothing happened. The government didn’t even care to respond.”

A year later, Wong felt a sense of hope for the first time, when the Umbrella Movement began. But he believes the protests today have an added urgency.

Under the terms of the handover, Hong Kong was to maintain a separate legal system, government, and freedom for 50 years. But critics say Beijing is tightening its control.

Facebook Twitter Pinterest Thousands of protesters gather as the roads become blocked by a reported 1.7 million people Photograph: Rick Findler

“The sense of the end of the world is coming sooner. In the past we thought 2047 was the deadline, but the de facto deadline is actually this year,” he says.

By 5pm, the crowd has reached a wider road and started to spread out. People walk unhurriedly. An older couple has a speaker, playing Do You Hear the People Sing? – the unofficial anthem of the protests. A nearby couple walks with their two small children.

Wong points out the police headquarters, often a target of the protesters. As the crowd walks by, they shout: “The police know the law and break the law!”

‘We will remember what happened this summer’

By 9.30pm thousands of protesters have occupied a six-lane road outside the government headquarters in Admiralty. Wong has changed into his black shirt. A man on an overpass unfurls a banner that reads: “I want democracy.” The first character falls off, changing the meaning slightly to “Need democracy.” “It’s better this way. More urgent,” Wong says.

Nearby, hundreds of protesters have gathered outside Hong Kong’s parliament. The demonstrators appear relaxed, sitting on the ground or standing nearby, talking in groups.

The tranquility is in sharp contrast to when protesters broke into the building on 1 July, marking the start of a more radical phase of unrest. The entrance is still boarded up, and graffiti on the walls reads: “Shameless officials”.

Dozens of protesters are pointing lasers at the government complex and the garrison for the Chinese military next door. A woman shines an industrial spotlight in the windows of the army building as the crowd cheers. Protesters taunt in Mandarin: “Comrades, come down!”

Wong feels at home here among the crowd of masked protesters. He says the last two months have taught him, someone who doesn’t trust easily, to rely more on others. “Even though you don’t know the people beside you, you don’t know their names and you cannot see their face, suddenly you find them so familiar. You trust them,” he says.

The mood in Admiralty suddenly shifts from playful to anxious as word spreads that police may soon move in. Three convoys of police vans pull into the compound. “Oh shit,” Wong says, “That’s insane.”

Unlike in past weeks, the protesters want to avoid clashes with the police and the chance of arrest. Most begin to make their way home. “Let’s go, let’s go!” protesters yell. Wong joins them, heading back to the MTR.

He says he will miss these moments of unity. It’s not clear what form the protests will take after September, when school begins for many of the young demonstrators.

“Of course we will remember what happened this summer,” he says, but worries his fellow protesters could lose their passion. He refers to chief executive Carrie Lam, who also participated in social movements when she was a student.

“We’re afraid we could become the people we hated so much,” he says. “We are trying to make sure that doesn’t happen. We will keep reminding ourselves why we stood on the streets this summer.”

* Name has been changed to protect the identity of the interviewee