Sunday, March 29, 2009

Verlaine and Rimbaud (or Relationship Talks)

Ours was a happy and memorable relationship; we shared so many common traits that it leads me to believe we were solely MFEO. However, in later retrospect, I realized that it was, indeed, a romanticized friendship between a guy and a "tomboyish" girl, and that I had seen him as a male buddy, but more intimately than others. Relationship, for me, must occur between a male and a female. It is a unique social attachment of two people; it must be built on not only the similarities, but also on the opposition (which is true in the case of my current relationship).

It was my "masculine" features, not the feminine ones, that got along well with him. We were unaware of the necessity to be obtain femininity, neither did he stimulate that of me. Actually, he tried, but failed, which frustrated him because he thought that meant he was not “masculine” enough for me.

So we broke up unexplained. I suffered from the trauma for a long time, but still hoped that we could heal the relationship. But things always came up unexpected when I gained admission to an U.S college. It was not the fear of a long-distance relationship, but his feeling of being inferior to me that made me realize there would be no more hope for me. It is always a shame for oriental men to let their women outdo them. He thought so; and deep inside I might have thought the same thing.

Finally, after all of the struggles I have made to stand up against the traditional gender-based rules, I still lost. But since then, my perception of relationship has changed well. Now, the guy I would fall in love with, must be the one who would treat me as a woman and make me feel like a woman. That is, he must wake up the femininity inside of me, not in gestures and personalities, but behaviors [...]. Since my current boyfriend has that ability, I love him a lot.


I tried to elaborate the last sentence but I'm way too sleepy, plus I thought to some extent it was enough. Please do not take this blog personally.

Music Post

It's been a while since I shared my music. I've been lagging in discovering new music as well, leaving this creative duty to last.fm and Pandora.

Recently, my favorite music include Nina Simone (as ever), psychedelic rock and lo-fi music (duh!) and acoustics by singer-songwriters around the world. The last, while not significantly ear-catching, is the mental therapy for my endless paper-writing.

This is my "Music for the Days" playlist on youtube. Enjoy! I update the playlist on a very regular basis.

http://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL56272BC4EC8FD7C3&feature=mh_lolz

(edited on Nov. 28th, 2011)


Saturday, March 28, 2009

Conn Decision

Usually I don't hate random people, but there are two particular type of human being to whom I would develop a strong aversion from the first time. The first type is those who write cliché and propagandistic blog entries. Such phrases as "các bạn của tôi ơi," "tôi sẽ ngẩng cao đầu tiến bước"... make me feel illiterate. The second type is those who try to make sarcasm, which indeed turned out to be lame and rascal. Sarcasm is far more than criticism in that it takes an intellectually humorous mind to make the former one (well it's not that the latter one doesn't, but on a different level).

For me, it's not the matter of academics and intelligence (I struggle in my English class and read The New Yorker to enhance my thinking skills), but that of behavior and attitude. Smart show-off people are annoying but dumb braggarts are even more ridiculous.

In the end, I'm happy that Conn reject those people.

Friday, March 27, 2009

Au Cafe De La Paix (Frenchy's Blues)



The next time I arrive back in Paris (don't know when...), I'll be singing Carla Bruni's songs in French and recreating my own romanticism.

Monday, March 23, 2009

The Hi-tech Connection



These are the high-tech accessories that I'm currently possessing,
You name it.

Why are there so many users of iPods?
And what's going with the flow?
iPods are visions, but only illusions
And iPods have everything to show...

So we've been told and some choose to purchase it
Who knows they're wrong, wait and see
Someday we'll find it, the high-tech connection
The Apple, the buyers, and Steve.

What's so amazing that keeps us screentouching
And what do you think you might see
Someday we'll find it, the high-tech connection
The Apple, the buyers, and Steve.



Rainbow Connection - Kermit the Frog

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

A short reference to one favorite song.

The best thing about being alone is that you can be truly revealed to the self, under no pressure to bargain for the identity. Or at least, in my case, to whom a good day could be as simple as a lengthened period of hot tea within an imagined vast landscape on my own. Then by chance, I encountered "Góðan Daginn" by Sigur Rós, which has conceptualized that ideal of mine. It includes all elements of a minimalist work: few textures, few ornaments, few instruments, the role of bass, the rhythmic stream that seems to flow endlessly and circularly. These ideas, further by the ethereal vocal, bring the song up to a weightless status, which is light, gentle, slow-paced but not relaxed - because when people are in such a status, it's not that they become thoughtless. Indeed, they are just so absorbed in their own concepts that they unconsciously get lost. A "góðan daginn" ("good day") doesn't necessarily have to be cheerful and exotic as that of The Beatles or many jazz performers. It is good when people could spare some time to enjoy life with peace-of-mind.

I send you the sun
Late in a summer's day
Temperature rises
and the walking pace increases
Shines on the warm faces
It's a real day
Go go away cloud

Yes, out to the sea
Where the sea flows
and salt melts the ice

We play endlessly
Now undress away
Heal the open wounds


It's a coincidence, but I want to watch "All About Lily Chou-chou" after listening to this song. Maybe it's because of my friend, Quang, who wrote an inspiring review on it. Or maybe it's because of the movie poster, which reflects sharply the lonesomeness and minimalism of human being.


Get this widget | Track details | eSnips Social DNA



Mom has complained about me being dreamy and oversensitive since I was in middle school. She is wrong. However high my eyes are to the sky or far to the horizon, my feet always stick still on the ground.

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

Oh Well, Summer

Three years ago, I received from Scott Alexander the letter of admission to Connecticut College, along with the financial award of $42,490 a year.

Tonight, it's him again to send me another letter, which again, is highlighted with the keyword "Congratulations" and is followed by a fellowship of $10,000. Is there a word for "the one who brings good news" so that I can address him?

Although the feeling is not as hyped as that one, although I think luck plays an 30% role this time, and although I have vaguely anticipated the result, I still can't help smiling and cheering to self.

Why not?

Thursday, March 12, 2009

Pennyroyal Tea

I've just came back after two days in New York with Jung-in and Alex. Previously, I have discovered the city in terms of scenery and academics, but this particular journey is my first approach to the arts. We went to two concerts by Chicago Symphony Orchestra under the conduction of Pierre Boulez at Carnegie Hall. Abstractly, I got to attend the performance by one of the prominent "Big Five", with one of the most important figures of the time, at one of the most renowned music venues in the US - at an unexpected price of $10. At first, I neutrally went there to "try out" the new music of the 20th century, a genre to which I'm not accustomed. However, after the second night, I felt very contended; not that I'm drawn to the music, but I'm convinced by the ideas it experiments - especially Elliot Carter's polyphonic Réflexion and Edgard Varèse's two very interesting compositions, which see percussion as a very own method of self- and rhythm- expression.

We spent today morning walking around Greenwich town. Just by looking at the luxurious stores on the streets and the number of famous residents, one can tell how wealthy this town is. But it's the recreation of the neighborhood that I enjoy a lot; outside the mansions and marketplaces, there are trees and parks and ponds, making it a nice place to live in. After that, Jung-in and I drove lost to Durham and Madison town, which happen to be also very wealthy and celebrated ones in Connecticut. The small size and exuberance of the towns slightly make me think back of Henniker, and feel naturally at rest. They are not the things I could easily see at New London... a little bridge over the river, an art-decorated garden, or on-the-hill houses...

Now, I'm back to my sweet room, which is wallpapered by posters and maps, but felt upset again by the recent tragic accident. Her funeral will be held tomorrow. Although I don't know her personally, the fact that she was a wholeheartedly devoted activist strikes me deeply, and for the last few days I cried so much that I thought I could not stand it. I pray that she could rest in peace forever because after the happiness she brought to the people, she deserves the utmost bliss.

And at the very moment, I am lying on my floral bed reminiscent, listening to Frank Zappa with an open-eared attitude and ready for the two upcoming journeys.

Thursday, March 5, 2009

"Một Chuyện Đùa" - Viết để nghĩ

Mỗi người trong gia đình tôi đều có cho mình một tác phẩm yêu thích của Antonin Chekhov. Với mẹ tôi, đó là "Một chuyện đùa." Mẹ vẫn thường dùng câu chuyện này như một ví dụ điển hình cho sự cả tin, ngây ngô rất-đàn-bà của "những người khờ dại chỉ biết yêu bằng tai," để dạy chị em tôi phải trở thành những người phụ nữ mạnh mẽ, tự chủ, không được gục ngã vì lời nói và vẻ bề ngoài của đám đàn ông. Tôi cố gắng quán triệt tư tưởng ấy, vì chính tôi cũng muốn làm một người có thể khiến bọn con trai nể phục (respect), chứ không ngưỡng mộ (adore). Nhưng không có nghĩa tôi coi Nadya là một cô gái dại dột và ngu ngốc. Cô chỉ quá ngây thơ và trong sáng, để đến độ gần như nín thở khi lần đầu được nghe 3 từ "Anh Yêu Em". Cái thông minh của câu chuyện không phải là ở đây; mà đặt ở cái khung cảnh nơi 3 từ ấy được nói ra:
Chiếc xe lao đi vun vút như một viên đạn. Làn không khí bị xé ra quật vào mặt, gào rít bên tai dữ tợn đâm vào da buốt nhói, gió như muốn giật phăng đầu ra khỏi vai. Gió ép mạnh, đến nghẹt thở. Tưởng chừng như có một con quỷ nào đang giơ tay nắm lấy chúng tôi và vừa rú lên vừa kéo xuống địa ngục. Mọi vật chung quanh nhập lại thành một vệt dài vun vút lao về phía sau... Chỉ một giây lát nữa thôi có lẽ chúng tôi sẽ chết!
- Nađia, anh yêu em! - Tôi thì thào nói.
Về khía cạnh văn học, việc miêu tả cảnh quan và cảm giác có thể là ẩn dụ cho sự lung lay, tính không bền vững và ranh giới giữa thật với giả, giữa chân với mộng - cũng giống như 3 tiếng thì thào vô ý, nhạt nhòa của nhân vật nam. Nhưng Chekhov là một bác sỹ, ông còn khai thác khía cạnh tâm lý con người sâu sắc hơn thế. Từ đầu câu chuyện, người đọc có thể hình dung Nadya là một cô gái thùy mỵ, yếu ớt - mà việc trượt tuyết trên núi là một điều đáng sợ quá mức tưởng tượng. Vì thế, cái lúc lao xuống triền núi, cô hẳn phải hoảng sợ, thất thần đến vô cùng. Mà trong y học, khi có một yếu tố bất thình lình kích thích tính sợ hãi, não bộ phụ trách việc trả lời các kích thích ấy sẽ hoạt động chụp giật, khiến nhịp tim tăng đột biến. Việc này xảy ra đồng thời với việc Nadya nghe được câu nói "Anh Yêu Em", và khiến cô lầm tưởng rằng trái tim cô đang "thở hồn hển" vì tình. Cô nửa hoang mang, nửa mơ hồ, nửa sợ hãi, nửa ham muốn. Thế là lần này liên tiếp lần kia, cô càng nghe và càng tin. Và càng rung động. Như bất kỳ người con gái nào, khi nghe một lời tỏ tình, cũng đều có chút xốn xang.

Nếu như lúc nghe được lời yêu đó, Nadya chỉ đang đi dạo, hoặc uống trà với nhân vật nam, mọi chuyện sẽ rất khác. Có thể cô sẽ hoặc ngỡ ngàng, hoặc thẹn thùng, cúi mặt, ửng đỏ, chứ không thể rụt rè, day dứt, nhợt nhạt và "thở không ra hơi" như Chekhov đã miêu tả. Việc để 2 tình huống khác nhau nhưng có cùng chung hệ quả diễn ra đồng thời là một giải pháp thông minh, tinh tế của ông; vừa khoa học mà cũng rất đời thường. Nếu không có ngày hôm ấy, có lẽ cả đời Nadya sẽ không hiểu được thế nào là yêu, và sẽ mãi sống như một cái bóng không biết đam mê.
Đôi khi, mộng mị như một thứ thuốc giảm đau, giúp cho con người thoát khỏi cõi thực. Mộng mị không phải là để người ta níu giữ, mà là để giúp cảm nhận cuộc sống theo một hương vị mơ màng khác.