Childhood Remembered

- What do you want to do in the future?
- I will open a place for homeless elders.
- That's superficial!

That was a midnight conversation between my sister and I many years ago. My sister was the one who asked and made the claim, and I was the one who answered. I did not know why she thought my dream was superficial. Neither did I ask or defend myself. I just remained silent (well, I was a gently shy girl back then. Plus, I was no more than 12 years old at that time).

But I know, I never believe her words and let them discourage me.
I never did.
Even now, being 20, more mature and experienced, more realistic and life-oriented, I still don't.

Sunday Morning

The most beautiful Sunday morning started with the slow melodies of celesta, accompanied by low bass and a very earthly voice to wake you up and give you a gentle smile.

The most beautiful Sunday morning started at 11AM with some slices of bread, hot cacao in the patio with a view to the garden, talking and listening.

The most beautiful Sunday morning was spent outside the house, where the leaves are turning red and swinging within the wind, when there was nobody else but you.

The most beautiful Sunday morning was spend on a pink bicycle, which rode into the forest, through horse farms and over fairy-like houses.

The most beautiful Sunday morning used The Velvet Underground as the theme music, which made you feel soft and light-minded as if all the wrongs were left behind.

Sunday morning, praise the dawning
It's just a restless feeling by my side
Early dawning, Sunday morning
It's just the wasted years so close behind

There are things left behind, yet, many more other things are waiting ahead. But maybe, it's the business for Sunday late afternoon.

The New London Experience

(inspired by a night in downtown)

Chicken cubes dipped in curry
For hunger why to hurry?

Cheddar cheese with sweet strawberry
The best thing is that, they are all free!

The Jazz band plays in the art gallery
Recapturing the scenes of our community.

And else, eating ice-cream in the cool breeze
Always fulfills the joy of life and beauty

Later in the night, it starts getting chilly
It's time to go home and back to study

In the end, this is not what a poem should be
It is just a brief description for you to see.

"... and life worth living"

Imagine you are an 48-year-old woman with an much-less-than-average appearance, a clumsy gait and wrinkled face. Moreover, you have been single throughout your life and were living on unemployment allowances. What would "living" mean anything else to you, beside a daily repeated routine to make ends meet, drink tea every afternoon, eat cheap canned food for dinner and spend time with a pet partner?

Even though you are fortunate not to be such a woman, you might see many similar cases around you... people who think of nothing other than fulfilling the basic needs, people who let their life flow through silently, people who give in to failure... or people whose life is taken for granted until the end. Dream was too much a glamorous, out-of-reach thing to have, let alone success and achievements.

You know who I'm talking about. Susan Boyle. From the moment I listened to her singing "I Dreamed a Dream", my heart kept beating faster as if it was jumping out. But it was until I read the behind stories about her life that I started crying. What in the world had motivated this old, "failed" woman to walk out of her daily life and walk on the stage? What had given her the courage to stand alone and perform to thousands of people? There was no miracle here - simply enough, it was her mother's last will to see her "do something". Her mother might have realized her talent, or maybe she just want to boost her confidence. But certainly, this woman has an amazing but hidden confidence in herself. Otherwise, she would never be able to keep calm against whistles and smirks from the audience and sing with the deepest passion of the heart. She noticed all of these reactions, but she was so strong-willed that she did not let them interfere in her tribute to her deceased mother.

I've watched the performance for the 100th time, but still can not hold on to myself. Not only I, but millions of people around the world have been moved by her voice and redeemed by her story. That nothing, even the toughest, can ever be the dead-end of your life. They are only the challenges that you have to overcome, regardless of the case you are in. Therefore, I'm not exaggerating to say that she has made history, and become the most beautiful example for the unlimited power of human beings.

And somehow, she reminds me of the pigeon woman in "Home Alone: Lost in New York"...

P.S: this is my favorite scene... look at Simon Cowell's face... it was expressive than any word could be described. It was full of pleasures and satisfaction... At that time, I know he has deeply felt for the performance.

Born 2b Wildie

This super-cute shirt was sent to me yesterday from Japan, which made me smile to myself all the way home. The sender must understand me really well in order to give it to me. The slogan "Born to be Wild" has been my very personal trademark since high school, when everybody knows and refers to me as "wildrock1989", "miss wildie" (so that I could behave like a young lady!) or even "Dại", which all sound dear and lovely to me. The adjective "wild" is used exclusively for me and nobody else. I love it and take it positively, and so do they - it does not mean crazy or rebellious, it is simply... natural, original, fearless and out-of-boundary.

But being "positively wild" requires much more, and I'm still going on the way for it, even when I'm a 20-year-old woman who's been through some times. If it is based on mental age, I think I'm yet too young.

She said, "I think I'll go to Boston"

This is my first Boston version, under the August sunlight, dreaming for a future while still clinging onto memories. She came to this country, leaving behind the remembered past, prepared for heartbreaking outcomes. Yet, carefree as she had always been, as optimistic as she was and as bright as she would be.

I don't have an illustration for the second version, which appeared during Thanksgiving. Before this time, some "heartbreaking outcomes" showed up and collapsed her hopes and mental state. She kept being carefree, optimistic and bright - but by effort, not by nature. Wasn't she ok? Nobody knew the answer except for an acquaitance who happened to catch her crying bitterly among the crowded Best Buy.

The third version was a relieved and friendly one, because it was featured in the Christmas scene. She was on her run escaping from troubles, with a positive and desiring mind because she knew she was far enough to not be caught again. People saw her as the source of joy and energy. But she couldn't feel it herself until the night she wandered around the city and got lost by the bank of the Charles River, which cleansed her soul and brought it to revival.

The fourth version was with her best friend. As a result taken-for-granted, it made the best out of her. Despite everything that followed after, she was beautiful, lively, laughing and self-expressive, wholeheartedly, carelessly. That was the time she felt happy for being envied with and enjoyed her superiority to the human beings. Adventurous and free-spirited - weren't they the adjectives people use to describe her?


And the fifth version is needless to say. She returned to origin, to the "passionate" and "darkly-wild" side. She returned to the status quo, in which she was simply herself and couldn't care less about the evils.

All of these five versions were me as a freshman in college. After that, I didn't see myself in this city anymore. I failed to see a reflection from the night lights and river flows, failed to find beauty and comfort, failed to imagine. It's the friends in Boston whom I miss, cherish and would love to be with. They know me, but it doesn't anymore.

Will the next time be the sixth time?

Masculinity...

... for me, is judged by the man's ability to make both ends meet for his family. It is not only the matter of finance, but also the proof of his responsibility and maturity.

I'm specifically referring to the artist (poet, photographer, singer, actor, painter...) who considers his so-called "pride" a priority over his family. That means, he might remain unemployed and refuse to get a job because he thinks it offends his status as a true artist. Or, he withdraws from daily chores and only concentrates on his works, which (sadly) does not earn him a penny. He, the selfish one who abandons his beloveds does not deserve masculinity. Artistism makes a male look attractive, but it does not singularly make him a man.

In this sense, I don't consider c.V, or even Kurt, a good man. I adore them with the whole of my heart as my heroes, but not as a role model I expect from a lifelong partner. I'm not materialistic; I'm realistic: my partner need not be rich, but he must be caring and responsible for me - and to some extent, must try to bring me a better life (and yes, I'm doing the same thing).

I hate the idea if some extreme feminists who claim their equality by the thought that they can do everything with the absence of men. No, I'm not feminist. Why being feminist when you are a woman?

Ode to Self

Nhớ hồi trước,
Có một người bảo yêu mình vì mình chững chạc, nhiệt huyết (!)
Rồi có một người khác bảo yêu mình vì cái tính ngây thơ, hồn nhiên (?)
Nhưng rồi nhớ lại,
Cả 2 người đấy đều bảo yêu mình ở điểm mình sống rất thẳng và thật.
Vậy ra mình là thế nào?

"I'd like to do a song of great social and political import."

(or a parody on some nowadays high school kids, who would die by any means for a place in an US college)

It goes like this:

Oh Lord, won’t you get me a place in the school?
My friends all have Ivies, I must make me cool
Worked hard till my brain's full, with help from the tools
So Lord, won't you get me a place in the school?

Oh Lord, won’t you increase my SAT score?
This grade by College Board is a damn hardcore
I wished just a little more would widen my door
Oh Lord, won’t you increase my SAT score?

Oh Lord, won’t you write me a good reference?
I’m counting on you, Lord, you have influence
Prove that you love me and make it decent,
Oh Lord, won’t you write me a good reference?

Everybody!
Oh Lord, won’t you get me a place in the school?
My friends all have Ivies, I must make me cool
Worked hard till my brain's full, with help from the tools
So Lord, won't you get me a place in the school?

And this is by... J. Joplin