You told me life was impermanent, that like dandelions, we all fade

And I’m too ashamed to say that I don’t want to be alone

I’m too scared to admit

That I find meaning in every little thing you say

And I don’t want to hear what you said circling in my mind

In that empty room in the dark as the lights go out across the city

I’m too scared to tell you that

I wanted to paint you in a memory that I can’t even place

on fingertip, on in-between, on this nonstop reel of

flashing scenes, of poetry, of faded light

She said “I paint flowers so they will not die,”

And I wanted to take this record and make it spin forever.

If I could bottle up your brilliant heart and give it to the


watch it rise every morning

as I lift my head from the pillow

Maybe I’d remember

this is why we love.


i’ve lived 4 lives in 2 years.

streaks of light tunnels racing

scenery like a film reel flashing

skipping scenes

you told me you didn’t love me

i drank whiskey, dark, forgotten words


and then there was laughter

skipping down an empty sidewalk,

and a midnight moon

can we stay here forever?

i don’t want to forget


does forever exist?







it’s getting so loud

and we’re moving so fast

(too fast?)

all of a sudden the deafening roar

The lights snap, bursting white sparks into black


Dark, vast… where?


The end of the tracks

cut the noise like a sliver

This is where 4 lives end

And one begins


I can still hear their voices.


Holding Your Place

In retrospect it all seemed glossier

Rose faded colored glasses and the tint of sienna haze that formed whenever you said goodbye –

The glow in your warm center and your laughter

your laughter

Holding hands walking up the dark stairwell the petals

trailed behind us and blew away with the wind

They got swept up in the whirlwind and disappeared into the sunlight.

I could see those little specks of light trickling through the dusty corridor whenever I came home,

And the dust would form a shape just like you used to

They were holding your place.

I Found the World So New

It’s brightly lit in my bedroom, where I’m sitting and writing out my latest blog entry from under the throes of a pretty severe cold I contracted on the flight back to San Francisco from Shanghai. It’s strange to think about how just a few days ago, I was in Shanghai at TianZiFang, having pizza and applying deet to avoid mosquitos. Even more recently, I bought my last Costa Coffee at the Beijing airport before boarding my final flight that would take me back home.

The only visible remnants of my trip are my pretty solid suntan from Ko Phi Phi, and now the cold I brought back on the plane ride. When I got back to the city, I became overwhelmed with how “white” everything seemed. People everywhere were speaking English, and (surprise), I got service with an actual smile at the arrivals counter in the SFO airport. Getting on BART was shocking. The transportation system seemed so inadequate, small-town, and quaint compared to the metro systems of Shanghai and Hong Kong. A voice with a southern drawl and bored tone announced each and every BART stop we were approaching. I had grown accustomed to hearing electronic voices and seeing blinking lights announce stops in Shanghai. “Now approaching, South Shanxi Road.” “The next stop is XinTianDi.” “Please mind your belongings.” All this had changed into: “Neeext stahhp, Col-muh. Col-muh stay-shin.”

San Francisco seemed like a quiet, deserted little town compared to the buzz and immense energy that is Shanghai. When I arrived in San Francisco, I noticed how broad the streets were, and how few people and cars were on the streets. There were no gargantuan marquees with television blaring from the buildings…no bikers, no pedestrians, and no cars trying to run everyone over. After being on a 12 hour flight, I immediately wanted a massage. I was tempted to walk over to the Jin Healing for Women massage center near my house, and tell them in mandarin, “Give it to me for $15. I know how you people work. Don’t shit me – I just got back from China. $55 is way too much.” I felt somewhat sad knowing that this tactic would probably result in failure.

Today, missing the tastes of Shanghai and hoping to clear my sinuses with a little Sichuan food, I drove my near bedridden self to Sichuan Home in the Outer Richmond district, a few blocks from my apartment. I ordered the ShuiZuYu, or hot chili oil fish, and found it to be a bit of a disappointment compared to similar dishes I’d had in Shanghai. Guess I’ll have to get my spicy fix next time.

Upon return, however, I’ve delighted in familiar conveniences I’d been without for two months: fresh produce, well stocked and easy-to-navigate supermarkets, home cooked meals, yummy avocados, readily available medicines and an extremely comfortable bed.

Not to mention, my beautiful girlfriend whom I’ve missed so much. It’s so nice to be able to fall asleep next to her every night again.

With that, I leave you with a song that reminds me of vacationing and exploration – a song I heard while being whisked away in my father’s car to a Halal restaurant in Shanghai.