Some mad hopes.

want our hello/goodbye hugs to be a few beats longer than a casual friend hug,
but never so long that it becomes a lovers embrace.

I had a chance to see for the first time of my life the violet sunset at the beach when I went on my reclusive trip to Cancun on thanksgiving. If I hadn’t see it I wouldn’t have believed that the thing actually existed. The burning lights when the sun went down reflected with the blue water created a very warm, soothing color. The color of magic and mysteries and nostalgia, it coated the whole view as if somebody had casted a spell and let it spread out to the endless sea. The beauty left me stunned in awe of how precious nature could be, and at the same time, filled me up with some mad hopes.

Magic, myths, superheroes…those are just the emphasizing of dreams and hopes of human kind, for things that were hard, irrational or even lunatic, to become easier to believe in. There are hopes that boosts our thoughts, gives us strength and encourages us to keep on. There are also hopes that kills us, tearing us apart but we can’t chase them away just because we can’t stop those who keeps pouring them in. Because it is painfully easy how a small spark could just simply ignite the explosion of the jammed damp, blowing them all off for hope to rush in, flooding our mind and drowning us.

That spark could simply be a brush, a smile, or just some unintended teases or flirtations that would start it. It could be the shortest of a “goodnight” text, no punctuation, no capitalization. It could be the longest of the 240 miles distant conversation which was only about how pretty the stars were and how the signal sucked staying in the cabin. It would just simply start it. A small candle light that lit up the condensed darkness that we had tried so hard blocking all the lights from coming in, to keep us from longing for the greatest good. From dreaming instead of sleeping.

One should acknowledge that giving out hopes is a crime. Especially when such hopes would do nothing but lead the others to nowhere, and they would soon exhaust and break and cease to exist on the road of self-deluding.


Sickness called love

All of a sudden everything stops making senses. Yeah, welcome back to the ruthless world of love. As it has always been, love has never failed to drive you crazy. It’s so ambiguous and you just don’t know how to figure out when it’d sneak into your life or would just never pass by.

Yet of course as silly as we are, everybody more than once in their life has dreamed about love. We always long for it, wondering when it would come. Then when it seems like you’re in one, you start questioning is that it, is this how it supposed to be or are you missing something? But the thing is, if you couldn’t even tell if love is there in your life, how could you tell if it’s not there?

Tough question huh?

Well, for all the things you’ve heard, it’d be a little cliché if I say that love is always there; it exists in the name of family relationships, friendship and ships… (if you know what i mean lol) but we all know that those kinds of relationships are not what we actually crave for. What we want is that kind of intoxicating affection that wounds us yet at the same time injects us with its own addictive venom so we would long for more.

And what we want is not always good for us.

Of course as vogue as a flu would be, love hits us when our emotional system fails to protect us, the same way our immune system won’t work against the flu when you’ve already been touch by the host individual. He brushes by you once, and everything goes tumbling down. And since then you keep analyzing everything he does even when he never meant anything by that.

Then there would come a long agonizing days you have to undergo with him constantly on your mind. Though you know best that it’s unhealthy and not good at all you just can’t get it off. And you start to misinterpret all the things he says, everything seems to be a sign of hope to you. Yet too bad it was nothing more than an exact bunch of wishful thoughts. And you’re eaten by it.

Scary enough? Don’t worry! There’s always preventions and cures. Pfttt what did I just say? I was kidding! THERE IS NO CURE FOR LOVESICKNESS JUST SO YOU KNOW.

But we can’t stay being afraid forever. And the best way to get through this is to jump in and let yourself beaten, crushed and grounded so you would learn to embrace yourself before falling into another pit of devastating evil called love.

It breaks, it burns so that it could end.

I am such a ranting mess.

Love hurts

If you asked me what was the most painful kind of love, which I believe most of you would answer unrequited love, but no. In that kind of love at least you would find consolation knowing that he would never love you back, because it’s totally hopeless you wouldn’t find yourself trapped in some kind of water spiral sucking you all in, tearing you apart. And eventually you’d survive, ready to get going with brand new affairs waiting for you.

The most painful thing, in the name of love, is being stuck with a love-hate affair. You hate him enough to leave him, yet you cannot pull yourself together just because you also love him so much.

I’ve been dating with this guy. Well, I have ONLY dated him so as far as my entire life, for almost 6 years, our anniversary is on December 2006. It was since I was a high school kid. He’s 3 years older and since then we’ve been sticking with each other all along. I knew only him, the only and unique, him. He was like, the world to me, because you were so in love and because you were so blind, and because he was you first love so you cherished him as it was forever. Yes, I was so madly in love, all I ever knew was him.

But he didn’t think that way about me.

He’s got this mean streak, this sick need of giving love, and searching and cannot stand being bond. I have lost count of his flings years ago, yet the number kept growing. It’s not that bad like he’s been hooking up with other boys or something like that. I never knew. I tried but I could never understand why did he need to do that. But he did, flirting with endless boys, handsome yes, sending me to the basement of Hell because I was not gorgeous, not pretty, not slim… And he never stopped, though I forgave him each time but still he kept relapsing. I hate him so much, so much for that that only one thought of him saying lovey dovey stuffs with those lads made me wanna throw up.

Yet still, I have this stupid hamartia in which I love him so much that only a thought of leaving him sound like a foresight of the collapse of my world. I love him so much that without him the world wouldn’t be the same. Because beside of that mean streak he is at whole a very good man, he’s funny, he’s very caring and always know what to say to chill me down. And most important of all, the way I feel whenever he touches me, I could never feel that way with anybody else. That’s why I always fall back to him, to his dark twisted chest game that he’s the rules maker and I’m always the one that falls.

Why was it so hard to be in love with just me? Why does he even need to find other boys even when I’m willing to accept all of his flaws, his EVERYTHING in exchange for simply his loyal and faithful heart? Why was it so hard to love just me when I loved him that much?…

I have so much questions to ask but deep in my soul I know that he’d not even know the answers. It’s just because that’s what we are. Because I’m desperate and devoted and stupid and blind. And because he’s care-free, womanizer and cannot stand any commitment.

I’m just too tired to be able to do anything, anything at all.

I wish I could unlove the one I love. I wish I could stop feeling this much except disgust towards him. I wish I could take that all back, my love, my time, my kisses, my faith.

How to unlove the one I love?

When loving suddenly became a vast of pains.


So if you’re considering anything about being unable to return my feelings, cut it off.

From the very first day when I sent you that message or several times later when we exchanged the convo and you gave me those hints, I’ve never offered any kind of commitment. As if there was any, it would be the kind that I’d keep for myself only, an engagement that I signed with myself, to be devoted to you without asking for anything in return.

That’s not desperate, I’d prefer to call that adjusting your expectation base on probability to avoid unwanted disappointments.

Why are you so aware of that? What would it harm you from spending a portion of your lifetime with me? I keep asking myself those questions and it only hurt me badly when the answers obviously hit me out of the blue.

If I was you, I’d not waste my time with someone uninterested either. So it’s understandable. Because we people are all so scared of falling and getting ourselves hurt over again, that’s why it’s always so hard to give somebody a chance, or even to give ourselves a chance to jump into love again.

I’m not sure if this is because of me or is it because of you. Yet I can’t help feeling if I was a little bit prettier, or more attractive, it might be different. Maybe you’d be interested, then you’d hang out with me, we’d be friends first and lovers later (or that was just wishful thinking).

Or I could even stay this ugly, just if you ever over come my appearance and just be friend with me, I’d cook for you, froster you when you’re so sick and tired of the world outside, listen to your stories without saying anything hypocritical. And I’d try my best not to let you down, because I’m not those gorgeous boys who even dared to walk in and out of your life, tearing you apart; I’m no elegant boy to dare to hurt you the way I’ve always been hurt, isn’t it obvious?

Then why you’re giving me no chance? I just want to stay close, to know you, to be there in your life, to be somebody you can trust and that’s just that. Who am I to be such bold, asking for more?

I’ll just be like a stupid boy who dares to devote his heart to Superman, staying on the ground waiting for you to pass by, well, for a minute or two, and there you go again, busy with the safety of humanity, and I’ll be right here waiting on the ground when you come back down.

However, all that I know is that all those stuff are just too good to be true.

Maybe hopefully in another reality, where we made different choices that diverted our lives unlike this dimension, perhaps there’d be a twist in probability, or people would prefer calling fate, that you and I would be together.

Hôm nay trời đẹp. Sáu giờ sáng là nắng đã lên rồi, và mình dậy sớm.

Hôm qua căng thẳng bài thuyết trình quá nên lúc tối lên thư viện định học nhưng cũng có học được đâu. Cỡ chừng mười giờ rưỡi là mắt mở hết nổi, lết về nhà, quăng balô vào góc, hư mẹ cái phẹc mơ tuya, lột đồ ra và quăng người lên giường ngáy ro ro.

Hôm qua thầy Ross mới ra đề final. Hai bài luận về vấn đề xã hội. Thầy ơi em khổ tâm lắm thầy biết không! Thầy tính tình dễ thương, dạy hay nhưng cho bài về nặng quá, em chỉ biết khóc!

Lẽ ra mình nên ngồi soạn bài để ôn thi cuối kỳ đây nhưng ở trên đời thiệt có lắm thứ khiến tâm hồn người ta xao động, khuấy đảo sự tập trung cao độ cần kíp mà khi bình sinh mình cũng hiếm khi có được. Mình nghi mình bị ADHD rồi.

Mình đã gửi tin nhắn cho người ta. Kệ rồi, giờ ra sao thì ra, thất tình thì trời vẫn xanh, gió vẫn thổi, nắng vẫn ấm vàng và cây cỏ vẫn đung đưa, không cớ gì mình phải khổ tâm vì bạn. Bạn không thích mình nhưng bạn đâu có quyền cấm mình thích bạn. Quyền tự do yêu thương mà. Tất nhiên nếu yêu thương được đáp trả thì tốt, nhưng nếu không được rồi thì có ép uổng thì cũng chỉ khổ sở. Được ở gần bạn là vui rồi, lâu lâu gặp nhau, hang out và tip talk, ngẫu nhiên gọi bạn bằng tên mình nói nói cười cười về người tình giả tưởng mình tự tào lao ra.

Mình biết, những người như bạn, sẽ không đi thích những kẻ như mình, như thế trái ngược với quy luật của tự nhiên. Nhưng dù gió có thổi, trời có ngẫu nhiên khóc mưa rối rít, mình cũng không nản lòng.

Và một chuyện nữa là từ hồi qua đây tới giờ mình vẫn chưa biết cái rạp chiếu phim nó tròn méo ra làm sao. Ngay cả ở dưới quê rồi mà mình còn quê hơn cả mấy người ở đây nữa. Bạn kia ơi, nếu có vô tình gặp, mình sẽ rủ bạn đi coi phim đó. Chuẩn bị đi!

Almost Lover

“I cannot go to the ocean
I cannot drive the streets at night
I cannot wake up in the morning
Without you on my mind”

I can picture the swaying palm trees and the wet shore with endearing waves where Oliver usually came and sit there doing nothing for hours, driving Elio to the realm of angsts, worries, jealousy, and wrath; when he got all freak out, desperately looking for any sign of his love interest’s living; then all that broke in to silence that Elio used hold back all the feelings in his lungs.

And I see them tangled together in the room poured all over by the silver dimmed light of the moon, kissing, caressing, making love; being lost in each other soul that barely recognized which one was whose anymore.

And the nights in Rome with the starry sky, liquors and the fountain of love, the sparkles in the water beams, the drunk men who sang that tragic song and the sound of his guitar echoed in the silence of the old structured town. And that dark small alley where they lost themselves in the passionate kiss, the couple who saw and understood what they had was what love is.

And on the pavement Elio stood, that day when he tried to linger on the memories of the three-month life they’d had, drinking on the madness of love and the precious soul they shared together, unaware of the flow of days and time. Still what will be will be, and the regretful look on Oliver I saw, given to the soulmate of his life before he get in to that yellow cab, luggages in the trunk, drove away from the piece of life that he wouldn’t ever be able to relive.

For all the things that they wish they could’ve had; for a brief moment, they could even hold them in their hands, feel them in the kisses, or the blurred line where one’s body ended and the other’s started; they still won’t ever be able to have.


Tỉnh dậy sau một giấc ngủ trái giờ với người ta, tâm trí cũng chẳng bớt rối bời hơn bao nhiêu.

Có lẽ chỉ tình cờ bạn xuất hiện trong lúc thôi đang đói khát yêu thương. Giống như một lữ khách không may lạc chân trong sa mạc, da đang bốc cháy còn cơ thể thì đang cạn dần sức sống, bạn xuất hiện như một ốc đảo xinh đẹp, dịu dàng và mát mẻ, và quá tuyệt vời để có thể trở thành sự thật.

Tôi đã vô tình xao xuyến những nét đẹp ấy. Xin hãy tin tôi, đó chỉ là vô tình thôi, rằng tôi đã lỡ sa tim mình vào bạn. Có ai muốn đâm đầu vào thứ tình yêu mà biết phần lớn cơ hội rằng nó sẽ kết thúc với trái tim tôi tan nát đâu.

Thật ra thì rõ ràng, tôi đã bị từ chối, không phải thẳng thừng, chỉ là gián tiếp. Nhưng dù có như vậy đi chăng nữa, tôi cũng sẽ không bỏ cuộc. Tôi cần ánh mắt ấy và nụ cười ấy, tôi cần bạn trong cuộc đời tôi, tôi muốn bạn trong trái tim tôi, và tôi sẽ rụng rời, yếu đuối và tan chảy.

Tôi không cần biết sẽ có bao nhiêu người nhìn tôi và gắn lên tôi những tên gọi. Tôi không quan tâm, trong tâm trí tôi hiện giờ chỉ có bạn. Tôi nghĩ về bạn những lúc đầu mình không bị choáng ngợp bởi bộn bề những lo toan. Và thậm chí ngay khi tôi đang tất bật với bao nhiêu là việc, bạn vẫn quanh quẩn trong đó, trái ngược với ý muốn của tôi.

Tôi biết rằng có lẽ tôi hơi điên, chỉ mấy ngày thôi đã mê mẩn đến vậy, lớn rồi mà vẫn còn dại dột đến thế. Nhưng tôi không giúp được bản thân mình. Trái tim tôi đang nổi loạn, phát điên lên vì bạn, bởi nụ cười hết cỡ và ánh mắt ngọt ngào.

Tôi sẽ tìm bạn và nói ra tất cả. Dù không có được tình yêu này tôi cũng sẽ nói. Tôi đã quá uổng phí thời giờ, tôi đã không sống như mình muốn được sống. Tôi sẽ không bỏ lỡ nữa, tôi sẽ không dại dột giấu hết yêu thương và câm nín nữa.

Vì tôi cần yêu, bạn cũng cần yêu.

Vì chúng ta chẳng có đủ thời gian để sợ sệt.

Vì sống, là không chờ đợi!