A TEXT POST

" It always fascinated me how people go from loving you madly to nothing at all, nothing. It hurts so much. When I feel someone is going to leave me, I have a tendency to break up first before I get to hear the whole thing. Here it is. One more, one less. Another wasted love story. I really love this one. When I think that its over, that I’ll never see him again like this… well yes, I’ll bump into him, we’ll meet our new boyfriend and girlfriend, act as if we had never been together, then we’ll slowly think of each other less and less until we forget each other completely. Almost. Always the same for me. Break up, break down. Drunk up, fool around. Meet one guy, then another, fuck around. Forget the one and only. Then after a few months of total emptiness start again to look for true love, desperately look everywhere and after two years of loneliness meet a new love and swear it is the one, until that one is gone as well. There’s a moment in life where you can’t recover any more from another break-up. And even if this person bugs you sixty percent of the time, well you still can’t live without him. And even if he wakes you up every day by sneezing right in your face, well you love his sneezes more than anyone else’s kisses. "

- 2 days in Paris 

A TEXT POST

HoiAn is a reversed letter order of HaNoi :)

… for the forgetful self of mine. as always :) 

  • Friday night: we arrived pretty late at my aunt’s after leaving the airport for dinner. rested at hers for a bit then headed to the bridge to see it moving. wasn’t a wow but still worth going out at 1am to see i guess. i hope the rest felt the same, not necessarily everyone i know, but still. it was fun back in Đà Nẵng at such hour. 

those local people were pretty weird. they kept staring at Nora ( ofcourse ) and one of them even asked her to stand in the middle of a bunch of ants just to ” see if they’re gonna bite ” (?!!!) 

my aunt let us stay over for the night and even treated us breakfast. i hardly see her all my life i have to say. probably just a few times all my life. and thats exactly why people from this area are so dear to my heart, unlike the Northern people. they’re always so welcoming. i would give her a hug but as vietnamese usual customs, i didn’t. 

  • Saturday morning: we took off for Hoi An, went by bus which was pretty legit. it gives you that little sense of know the daily life where you go. it was a pretty busy bus i stood half of the way. but it was pretty fun going with Dương and Nora. 
A TEXT POST

em muốn yêu anh ở Hà Nội nhỏ xinh này.

this is for you, wherever you are and whatever you’re doing right now. I don’t care, or well I yet don’t have the right to care. 

But this is real and this is me coz I want you to know…

I’m not that perfectly pretty girl sitting around the old quarter’s corner, not that popular girl who’s always all over the place, recognised wherever she goes, not the girl with any sort of special talent, the sort of talent that is so well performed very often, the sort of talent that makes every guy be in awe and go chase after her. 

I am the sort of girl who is still trying to figure out who i really am, what i am capable of doing, what limitations I have, what I’m best at doing and what I should stay away from even trying. 

I love puppies and I’m scared cats and rats.

I love people watching. I love seeing people in reunions, in a relationship, in any kind of ” ships ” for that matter. 

I hate prejudice, not just the idea of it, but for it prevents people from growing, loving, developing, expanding, forgiving, brainstorming, connecting, reuniting, 

A TEXT POST

there gotta be something wrong with you if you don’t see the society being wrong in all sorts of possible ways at the moment, all over the world but it shouldn’t stop you from realising helpers, rescuers, heroes, in short amazing people are still all around you as long as you’re willing to seek. 

sometimes i think it could be a privilege being born in a fucked up society/ most fucked up period of time in human history, coz only then you know the true value of ” good “, you can’t take ANYTHING for granted. :)

A TEXT POST

best slam poem ever.

" Across from me at the kitchen table,
My mother smiles over red wine that she drinks out of a measuring cup.
She says she doesn’t deprive herself,
But I’ve learned to find nuance in every movement of her fork,
In every crinkle in her brow
As she offers me the uneaten pieces on her plate.
I’ve realized she only eats dinner when I suggest it.
I wonder what she does when I’m not there to do so.

Maybe this is why my house feels bigger each time I return
It’s proportional.
As she shrinks, the space around her seems increasingly vast.
She wanes while my father waxes.
His stomach has grown round
With wine, late nights, oysters, poetry.
A new girlfriend who was overweight as a teenager,
but my dad reports that now she’s crazy about fruit.

It was the same with his parents;
As my grandmother became frail and angular,
Her husband swelled to red round cheeks, round stomach,
And I wonder if m lineage is one of women shrinking,
Making space for the entrance of men into their lives,
not knowing how to fill it back up once they leave.

I have been taught accomodation.
My brother never thinks before he speaks.
I have been taught to filter.
“How can anyone have a relationship to food?” he asks, laughing,
As I eat the black soup I chose for its lack of carbs.
I want to say,
“We come from difference, Jonas,
You have been taught to grow out,
I have been taught to grow in.
You learned from our father how to omit,
How to omit, to roll each thought off your tongue with confidence,
You use to lose your voice every other week from shouting so much.
I learned to absorb.
I took lessons from our mother in creating space around myself.
I learned to read the knots in her forehead
While the guys went out for oysters,
And I never meant to replicate her,
But spend enough time sitting across from someone,
And you pick up with habits.”

That’s why women in my family have been shrinking for decades.
We all learned it form each other,
The way each generation taught the next how to knit,
Weaving silence in between the threads,
Which I can still feel as I walk through the ever-growing house,
Skin itching,
Picking up the habits my mother has unwittingly dropped,
Like bits of crumpled paper from her pocket on her countless trips
From bedroom to kitchen to bedroom again.
Nights I hear her creep down to eat plain yogurt in the dark,
A fugitive stealing calories to which she does not feel entitled,
Deciding how many bites is too many,
How much space she deserves to occupy.

Watching the struggle, I either mimic or hate her,
And I don’t want to do either anymore.
But the burden of this house has followed me across the country.
I asked five questions in genetics class today
And all of them started with the word “Sorry.”
I don’t know the requirements for the sociology major
Because I spent the entire meeting deciding whether or not
I could have another piece of pizza,
A circular obsession I never wanted,
But inheritance is accidental,
Still staring at me with wine-soaked lips
From across the kitchen table. “

- http://www.upworthy.com/watch-a-student-totally-nail-something-about-women-that-ive-been-trying-to-articulate-for-37-years-6

A TEXT POST

why…

now i know that it is hard when it comes to priority between your BROs and your girlfriend. but MAN what is life supposed to be if not PRIORITY?
you gotta make a choice, every fucking minute of everyday.

you just gotta make a fucking choice. ok someone will get hurt but everybody’s getting hurt ANYWAY.

don’t you get it?
the worst thing you can do to a person is to keep he/she waiting/ hanging, without them knowing what the fuck they have to do with all that wait!!!!!????

isn’t it too much to ask????

why am i in this fucking relationship anw? whats the point of going through all this torturing and self-blaming? 

A TEXT POST

I miss England.

to be more exact… 

actually i miss tournaments in England. Frisbee tournaments. 

i miss sleeping in sleeping bags, under the pool table of a spare room in a frisbee friend’s house, in a big cold sport hall, in the 4 seats-car which we had to shotgun everytime we get in, which i always lost to someone else. i’m slow on shotguns. reeeeeeally slow. 

i miss overnight drive through cities to get to the tournament venue.

i miss my awkward self when being surrounded by all these English teammates of mine. i felt terribly bad for not being able to completely blend in but at the same time i managed to feel this weird bliss from it. 

i miss the night at Curry’s parents’ house. i still remember the captain saying goodnight to each of us laying down on the floor waiting to fall asleep. 

i miss my first indoor tourney. i miss the indoor tourney where i cried out of disappointment and helplessness and Cleary came to try calming me down. 

i miss how important the reputation of spirit was to a Uni team like us. ( something that i find difficult to find in this homeland of mine )