Dear CP ( Read more... )

Its been ages since I spent Sunday tanning on the roof with a book. Dune 7, the end of the epic series by Frank Herbert, who did not get to complete it by the time he died. Regrettably, his son was left to take over the reigns; inferior in every way, but I had to know the conclusion ( Read more... )

Today in the car on the way home I heard a song on the radio. It was new, one of those slow tunes about heartache that has flooded chinese pop since the dawn of time. The woman's voice was achingly familiar: desultory and low as embers, but because I was distracted by the rain I couldn't place my finger on who she was ( Read more... )

Slowly, slowly, I am learning how to define myself. To shape my Saturday around the structure of a novel, or a single drink in my own home with an old friend. To be simply content, and stop wondering how time would pass on an alternate page, with an ideal lover, seeing each instance through two pairs of eyes. (It would be the same, save the ( Read more... )

You should never start your evening of binge drinking too early. That's exactly what I did at 6pm on Siloso beach, under a palm tree, on jugs of home-made screwdrivers. It was all a blur after that, but by the time we made our way to Cafe Del Mar, our good spirits were high enough to overlook how poser the place was and to actually enjoy ourselves ( Read more... )

I am finally old enough to be so comfortable in my own skin that I own all my faults. There are only few things left to which I must shamefully admit to, one of them being my late night addiction to Maple Story.

This began some months ago, when a good friend of mine approached me with a business preposition as a potential investor. For the ( Read more... )

Although I'm quite chickenshit at times, a part of me hungers for new experiences and ways to push myself. I've surprised myself with diving, bungee-jumping, tigers, weed, and other unmentionables which have no place in a public entry.

I've heard numerous things about yoga from testosterone-fueled sources, and the underlying sentiment is that it is ( Read more... )

So there I was with a particularly finicky patient, explaining to her in my most authoratative manner why certain things cannot be done, feet wide apart and hands resting on the sink behind me, when I feel the entire thing slide beneath my palms.

I pause mid-sentance, immediately lose all train of thought, and wonder if I'm going to faint. Then the ( Read more... )

Today I was at an MRT platform in Simei, on the way home. The train arrived and I squeezed in to a spot facing the platform, which was beginning to fill up again. Through the window I could see the large marble bench that just moments ago I stood infront, unnoticing ( Read more... )

To be in my grandmother's tiny flat, sitting on a stool watching TV, while she reduces a lump of pig's liver into thin slivers. Then she will heat the wok with oil and throw in a fistful of young ginger shavings. The hissing pungence of ginger will be how it was since I was a boy.

She will toss in the liver (the aroma and the noise), a little corn- ( Read more... )