Friday, April 29, 2005

central, mix juice bar, IFC mall 5:27 p.m. local time...

yaumatei _ once just a jenga of apartment blocks, hawker stalls and fleabag hour-stay hotels on portland street _ has gained a heart. a heart that beats hou hsaio-hsien, delon and everything else in between.

that broadway cinematheque means business, and has a decent ham and cheese sandwich.

sure the brothels and hawkers are still there, but at least now there's a respite from all that if you so choose...

Wednesday, April 27, 2005

HK, central MTR station, 10:45 a.m. local time...

it's muggy, but cool, with a spot of rain.

Tuesday, April 26, 2005

at changi airport, 5:52 a.m. local time

i leave singapore
with durian in my heart
as good friends remain.

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Thursday, April 21, 2005

the trip began with that blue supershuttle, a short, gray black man with an affinity for Mark and Brian and Steve Harvey...a limp race joke about white people throwing mexicans off a crashing plane (steve harvey did NOT approve), a race through downtown la and spitting on the freeway...

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Tuesday, April 19, 2005

I had a really cool dream last night. It almost seemed real, or could easily come to past. I woke up from it just about an hour after I first fell asleep, and recalled pure contentment, if not joy.

I rolled over, went back to sleep, and forgot all about it in the morning.

Friday, April 15, 2005




I, too, was decked out in a white, loose fitting button shirt, black trousers and kung fu shoes, standing by my relatives, ready to rumble in the courtyard. Tightly wound with anticipation we were, all nervous energy, ready to erupt.

Except, our family's sworn foe for generations (as told by my aunt) wasn't as dangerous or intimidating as I thought. when he finally appeared, that balding, stout man in a cheap, ill-fitting, gray flannel suit, treated sly uncle tom like an old chum from some convoluted business deal long ago...

that was a hell of a transition from dreaming about Erica Durance's booty...

Thursday, April 14, 2005

the other night, she came to me in my dreams. we shared thoughts, spoke of philosophy and writing, and generally enjoyed each other's company. the best date i've never had.

but it was getting late. she kissed me twice _ once on the cheek then on the lips _ and reluctantly walked out of my bedroom, leaving me tucked in my bed, seated upright with longing.

i couldn't move, and could do nothing to stop her departure from this corner of my mind where i dared to reimagine a life of limitless potential, only to remain enslaved by my own weak heart.

and then there were those damn termites i found in my closet, making a meal of a two-by-four that was the bottom of the top shelf. i'm glad THAT was only a dream.

Tuesday, April 12, 2005

so i just signed on to online dating recently, convinced by a friend who has met her current beau by match.com to punch in my credit card number for a month-long trial. i know, i'm like years behind everyone, having been content to lurk spicy chatrooms and scan yahoo personals and craigslist casual encounters listings.

it's addicting once you've broken the ice and dove into this community of fellow lonely hearts looking to connect with the other _ sometimes honestly, other times only a brief, capricious wink. you take effort to write, even on your off-hours despite having filed story after story from your day job. Then comes the anticipation _ will she or won't she respond, or is it really a she that's responding. and if she wrote back, how do you reply? i must strategize _ think up a good lede _ seize on every bit of information from their profile you can use to your advantage. they're your only ammunition until she, teasingly, chooses to reveal more.

it's like a japanese dating simulation game with real, human hearts at stake. Burroughs had the right idea in Junky _ it'd be a lot easier if we could all communicate by telepathy.

here's to that high score.

Wednesday, April 06, 2005

a silhouette of lust,
wet burns resisting
the ebb of baby-wipe
scented ecstasy
into the hands of
bronzed burgundy...