the un-revelation

"the un-revelation" on facebook

Foreword: The rhetoric question, "Missed the States already?" has seemingly enlightened my day. Among the common assumption that I should be “having fun to the fullest” in Hanoi, the city is not for pure enjoyment. It also calls for new experience and sentimentality, which includes the refinement of the leftover feelings. 

He, who reveled in her homecoming on her behalf, in the light of knowledge that he was the particular person she'd miss. He, whose attempt to placate her reminiscence for the States by telling her, "the country will slip your mind in just a few days" backfired. He, who knew but barely understood. He, who saw but scarcely touched, who touched but hardly felt, and who felt but never made it with his hu-man-ly senses. Leaving wasn't difficult for her, and neither was departing. The former took a day at least, the latter a goodbye kiss at most. Letting-go was difficult, especially when she was acutely conscious to keep the memories prolonged in her mind. In that brooding frame of mind, her memories palpitated insanely until they were oppressed by one another, writhed and vanished into the ether. At that standstill of time, she no longer remembered him nor forgot him. She couldn't even recall the face that once came so close to hers that it obscured her eyes, or the voice with which she once talked so much that the air vibrated swiftly in her ears. Yet, they were all vivid - his embrace of her breath, her shivering lips, his echoes of laughter, and her unaware silence. They were all light, but replete. Lost, but extant.

She did not think of him to remember him, just as she did not leave him to forget him. She didn't care to see if they both exist at that moment. This collection of memories needed no character anymore. What it now looked for was just a figure to fill in the times they used to share, and the things they used to do. These images were not to be imprinted, treasured then eventually halted inside of her. They was oscillating in front of her, waiting to be chased, seized and rephrased into her own stories - the life as she's known it, the romance as she's dreamed it, and the hope as once possible. Their moments, then, became hers. Exclusively hers. Everlasting hers.

-revised from my freshman writing, inspired by the notes of L. & Q.A, added with some trace of the presence

phởn (2)

khi có (những) người vẫn "chăm chỉ" và "thầm lặng" theo dõi những cái note dấm dớ của mình,
that subdues a hundred of comments and likes.

khi có người, sau bao nhiêu năm yên lặng, bỗng nhiên quay lại và thú thật hết những suy nghĩ/cảm xúc dành cho mình, that I'm a special person in his life, and that he feels being himself the most when he's with me,
that subdues any hymn of praise.

khi có (vài) người bảo mình là "girlfriend materials" của họ. mình nghe mà cứ... thích thích, vì đó là những người đã giao du thân thiết đủ để hiểu mình và trân trọng tính cách của mình, chứ không chỉ nhìn vào bề ngoài mà phán xét,
that subdues all of the lame flirtations and unoriginal pick-up lines.

khi có người tuy đang tít mít ở mỹ, nhưng vẫn quan tâm tới đời sống âm nhạc (và tinh thần) của mình ở hà nội,
that subdues a physical presence.

khi có người vẫn thường lưu tâm đến những cái link và status của mình và chẳng bao giờ coi đấy là những cái post vu vơ không chủ đích cả,
that subdues any kind of conversation.

so, with people like yous, in a place like hanoi, who needs inspirations?