You are Venus and I am Mars. Is it true, then, those who love must be at war? These aren’t tantrums, this isn’t combat — we have no battle wounds but I fear it all scars just the same. We’re only human, after all. Some joke delivered poorly, some shift in the wind, and …
. You taste like tong sui Ripe sweetness at play You are black sesame Mung beans oh so dreamy The ambrosia of erotic hasma A paradise of six flavours You are steamed milk custard A sip leaves me without words Guiling-gao dark and clear O sugar-shock me, my dear… . Dedicated to my best friend …
. Oh but for the courage! Some days I feel like I’m The Lion. Not from Narnia, but from Oz. So please. Dare me. Dare me to move. I sure could do with the push. .
. Oh! how I dream of durians Thorny diamonds fall and dance When the King of Fruits is ripe There’s much for ang mohs to gripe Its sweet almond aroma Banned from hotels, planes and cars But true connoisseurs celebrate: How would you serve this on a plate? .
This used to be easier, I think. Dinner with friends, a night out in town. Life doesn’t revolve around your apartment, they tell me. And indeed it doesn’t. Not when it was simply mine. Things change, though. It’s our apartment now, and our life is built on its firmaments, this little place we call home. …
You’ve got to look good. That’s what they tell us anyway. Society. (Useful as it may be to blame them for everything we can muster under the sun, some fine day we’d just have to realize we’re a hundred and one percent responsible for our own little personal disasters and victories. Still, it’s fun …
. Birthdays are wonderful things. Celebrations, cakes, candles, those sort of stuff. Let’s not forget the camarderie, though. That’s the best part. What better way to signal the passing of another year than to sound it in with one’s best friends? (Yup. It’s all about the noise.) Better yet if you’re sharing the same birthday …
Kenny Mah believes in the good in people. He has been blogging for over ten years. No, his hands aren't tired. Yet.
