adventures in neverland

"young, young man. did anyone ever tell you you look like a young prince out of the 'arabian nights'?" -- blanche dubois,  a streetcar named desire. i have always loved blanche dubois. i feel her -- delusional, living in her own private world, promiscuous yet pretends to be coy. even virginal. so gay! last night, in late celebration of my forty third year on earth, i hopped from one bar to another even on a tight budget. luckily, like blanche, some kind strangers paid for my poisons for the night -- stella, lots of it, tequilla and mojito. no cosmo for this not so grand old dame, i reserve that for sinfully lonely nights. when the mean reds strike cruelly like a phantom without the opera. or too much of it. chos! inside a bar where a filipino band was playing, i was surrounded by hong kong's young and beautiful, as though i had died and went straight to nirvana. naturally, the only thing to do was to sway to the beat of raining men, holiday,...

hong kong december thirty one, two hours before new year's eve the phone rang as i was about to step out of my flat. it was a dreary winter night, and the wind was biting cold. i was cold even if i was already wearing a thick outer jacket over cashmere sweater and a scarf. i did not expect that you would call. i was already on my way to meet up with you at our favourite restaurant where we planned to spend the new year's eve with some of our friends who preferred to stay in the city instead of going out of town for the holidays. once outside, i answered the phone. "what's up?" i said happily, my other hand tucked safely inside one of the side pockets of my jacket to keep it warm. i was walking briskly, imagining that you were wearing the blue ralph lauren sweatshirt that i gave you as a christmas present while you were driving your car on the way to central. but your "hello" did not sound cheerful at all. i was alarmed. i...