Gặp lại người cũ

Đôi lưng với nhau cả 2 tiếng mà không hay biết gì. Đến lúc ngờ ngợ ra nhau mà cũng không đủ can đảm gọi tên, nghĩ lại thấy đường tình hai đứa nó vô duyên hết sức. Đến với nhau không một tiếng gọi mời, kết thúc mà cũng không một lời chia tay.

Lòng buồn rười rượi, chả biết làm gì ngoài tâm sự với Tumblr.

Outdoor cafe. Chai latte. Blue sky. Brown eyes.

She’s sitting alone in the middle of a busy crowd, absolutely still. She’s gazing up into the distance at nothingness with a faint half smile. Her wide eyes are peaceful as an autumn lake with undescribable hidden fire and storm. Then she frowns. The little frown of a woman. She lightly bites her lower lip. And the bite turns into another vague smile. It seems as though there’s a shadow passing by. She sits back, takes out a pen and a notebook. She starts scribbling something. The noise surrounding doesn’t seem to disturb. It’s like her protection, masking her emotions and thoughts. She’s safe in her own sanctuary. She lets whatever on her mind wander on paper. She doesn’t know a stranger not far away from her watching her following her thoughts. I take out a pen and write on a napkin. Then I stand up, still hesitate about what I’m about to do.

I look around. Everybody is chatting, and nobody is paying attention to me. I take a few steps toward her table, then slide the napkin on the table in front of her. She glances up, eyes open wide, surprised. We lock eyes for a few seconds. I can see a corner of her mouth moving up. She seems amused. She still doesn’t pay attention to my note. She straightens her back, tilts her head and leans on one hand. She narrows the brows, looking straight at me. Her lips open a little.

I’m suddenly confused. Is it a friendly gesture, or a half teasing smile? I look down at the note, already forgot what I wrote. Truth is I want to escape her eyes. There’s something well buried in those dark eyes that makes me tremble and tingle down my spine. Slowly, she lowers her head and reads my note.

“You brown eyes distract me.”

She instantly gives me a giggle, then reaches out for a napkin, writes something, folds it twice, puts it on the table, places her cup on top, grabs her bag, stands up, looks at me long in the eyes, turns around and walks away. I’m puzzled, standing there speechless. A few people are turning head, curiously staring at me. I get myself together, grab the napkin she left and hurry out of the cafe. I open the note as I’m walking back to my office. The sun light running through the leaves of the trees on the pavement sheds some circles and rays on the napkin, forming some bright and blur patterns.

“When the sun is high, the week passes by, where stillness amidst chaos, you’ll find me.”

Last night in America

I have a few friends, not distinctively close, but times we got together, it seemed like we never missed a beat. We could resume a really random conversation that was left off ages ago, and didn’t feel like we ever paused. Out of all the people in the world, I spent my last evening in America with them. I could have picked a fancy restaurant, went out with familiar folks, did the same old thing we always did. But I didn’t. It’s because of these lovely people that I will miss this place more than I realized.

2012

‘New year’s resolution’ is probably one of the most insane delusions one could forge for themselves. It’s crazy because the people who create new years’ resolutions are fully aware of it. They know it better than anybody, but still coerce their brains into believing that some miracle is going to happen. For example, the number of people going to the gym on January 1st or 2nd is possibly higher than the total number of those who go during the entire month of May, or June, or July, or any given month of the year. They will gradually start to realize this whole thing is bullshit, then quit. And for some magical and absurd reason, it comes back to them around Christmas, and the madness resumes very soon after.

The problem is that resolutions are meant to be practical, not necessarily revolutionary. I believe the best thing one could do is to think positive of what this brand new year can bring them. I once faced death when I was about 8 years old. Ever since then, I’m always grateful to have another year to live, to do the things I absolutely love. Now that I’m getting older each spring, all I could wish for when the new year comes is health for my family. That’s it. My family is truly everything that I need and I have. Everything else is secondary. You will never find me running on treadmills on January 1st, because I’d rather be home eating the amazing food that my mom makes.

2011

  • Finished college.
  • Had the first full time job.
  • Paid off student loans.
  • Paid off credit cards.
  • Literally jumped out of a plane.

I had a great year.

It must suck when you write that one hit song for that one special person and you have to keep singing that song all over again just so your fans would be happy.

The first time I met her was in November 2005 — about five months before our applications were sent to National University of Singapore. We took the same special course after school solely for preparation of the entrance exam. As if we were lucky to be picked. Not to get outmatched by the number of boys in class, she proved to be a brilliant student, and what an absolutely splendid young woman she was. She made a guy like me, who always took pride in my own knowledge of mathematics, feel stupid. It was always about competing with one another in class, but time after time, I realized there was something else about her that I couldn’t get enough of. A few weeks in, I decided to ditch the boys and sat closer to her. We got to talk, I got her number, and we hung out. Neither of us got picked to take the exam for NUS. I thought it wasn’t just meant to be. The course dismissed soon after, we also parted ways. Some time later, she sent me a text message. She still planned to study in Singapore, pursuing her way to a different school rather than NUS. I also told her I passed my interview, and was packing for America. A few weeks before I left, we met for the last time at a concert. She looked beautiful. Both of us knew exactly what to say to each other, but for some reasons neither of us did. Trying to be normal was all I could do. Sometimes, even now and then, I wondered how she’d react if I told her how I really felt. But why does it matter? I used to beat myself up to all the chances I missed, but swelling on the past wouldn’t do any better justice. On that night, at that very concert, it was the only moment in my life that I truly believed “something had better be left unsaid”. It’s been over 5 years. I haven’t seen her again after that night. Sometimes I wonder what could really happen in such time span. Time flies, people change, and I gain weight. How many of us used to guilelessly assume the people you get to see everyday will last forever in your life? I used to think the dude sitting next to me in high school would be my best friend forever and ever, it turned out I barely remember his name now. Distance, location, lifestyle, and anxiety change everything. I’ve had new friends - a lot new friends, stepherded a new life in a new land, finished college and started working like a real adult. But some things in life are never bound to change, because after all this time we still keep in touch, and she still calls me “the best friend” she’s ever had. The last time we met was undoubtedly more than just a rendezvous. She sent this to me exactly a year ago. It’s powerful how just a letter could toss me the urge to write about a person. Feelings of human beings are inexplicable. Or, should I put it more delicately: being nolgastic really sucks sometimes.

The first time I met her was in November 2005 — about five months before our applications were sent to National University of Singapore. We took the same special course after school solely for preparation of the entrance exam. As if we were lucky to be picked. Not to get outmatched by the number of boys in class, she proved to be a brilliant student, and what an absolutely splendid young woman she was. She made a guy like me, who always took pride in my own knowledge of mathematics, feel stupid. It was always about competing with one another in class, but time after time, I realized there was something else about her that I couldn’t get enough of. A few weeks in, I decided to ditch the boys and sat closer to her. We got to talk, I got her number, and we hung out. Neither of us got picked to take the exam for NUS. I thought it wasn’t just meant to be. The course dismissed soon after, we also parted ways. Some time later, she sent me a text message. She still planned to study in Singapore, pursuing her way to a different school rather than NUS. I also told her I passed my interview, and was packing for America. A few weeks before I left, we met for the last time at a concert. She looked beautiful. Both of us knew exactly what to say to each other, but for some reasons neither of us did. Trying to be normal was all I could do. Sometimes, even now and then, I wondered how she’d react if I told her how I really felt. But why does it matter? I used to beat myself up to all the chances I missed, but swelling on the past wouldn’t do any better justice. On that night, at that very concert, it was the only moment in my life that I truly believed “something had better be left unsaid”.

It’s been over 5 years. I haven’t seen her again after that night. Sometimes I wonder what could really happen in such time span. Time flies, people change, and I gain weight. How many of us used to guilelessly assume the people you get to see everyday will last forever in your life? I used to think the dude sitting next to me in high school would be my best friend forever and ever, it turned out I barely remember his name now. Distance, location, lifestyle, and anxiety change everything. I’ve had new friends - a lot new friends, stepherded a new life in a new land, finished college and started working like a real adult. But some things in life are never bound to change, because after all this time we still keep in touch, and she still calls me “the best friend” she’s ever had. The last time we met was undoubtedly more than just a rendezvous.

She sent this to me exactly a year ago. It’s powerful how just a letter could toss me the urge to write about a person. Feelings of human beings are inexplicable. Or, should I put it more delicately: being nolgastic really sucks sometimes.

When I was much younger, the only toys I had were LEGO, my favorite subject was physics, my eyesight was absolutely perfect, and my dream was to become an architect. Years have gone by. I wonder what happened to that dream.

Ngày xưa, thơ Hàn Mặc Tử ngập ngùng con hẻm nhỏ. Tô hủ tiếu mười nghìn ăn hoài không thấy hết. Thi đua là trong học tập chứ không phải là quần áo. Yêu thương có nghĩa là nỗi buồn chứ không phải là niềm đau.