After watching the rather repressive melodrama Curse of the Golden Flower, I was in a strangely expressive mood. Yellow is supposed to be physiologically stimulating. Whatever the reason, I was in the mood to talk about him, and talking about him always brings a smile to my face.

I miss him, I miss him, I miss him…

It’s a crazily anti-intuitive feeling mixed in with a healthy dose of cynicism, wistfulness, and… lust. I will admit this: we had a lot of chemistry out on the dance floor. Those are my favorite memories of him, of us. Uninhibited, crazy, tireless.