시간에 지쳐도 사랑에 아파도

He did not ask me a trick question yesterday. He did not laugh to his heart content, at the mere thought of my absolutely annoyed and frustrated face trying to figure out the answer yesterday. He did not send me the sweet goodnight wishes yesterday.

I saw it all coming. I laughed proudly at my ability to read people – men especially. However, my heart aches till this moment. Not for him - lol, He should not take that much credits for nothing but for the bleak picture of dating on earth.

He must be mad – lmao. At the age of 30, isn’t it hard to accept the rejection of a 20 year old girl? Surely he is desired by many. Surely he is proud at his ability, family background, the number of instruments he can play – and all that jazz. Surely he could not understand why I don’t line up in that long queue of girls who could not wait for his smile.

Midnight, an apologetic sms came too late to restore my last bits of grace and kindness for men. Aren’t almost all of them the same? Isn’t selfishness man’s infamous trait? I don’t forget, though I may let things slide. Number … some 2 digit number, that maybe something for me to remember him by. The list will go on.  Over-confident boys they are, who love me, chase after me not for who I am but for the triumphant and egoistic thought of being able to tame, to possess and control this wild soul. I am not ugly, in fact pleasant looking - some may even say pretty, I am flattered. I am not awkward, in fact confident and dignified. I can surely talk to anyone – if I desire to and I have manners. Don’t you wonder why I am still single until this moment? Especially at the peak of my youth?

I believe in weeks to come, his good intention, attention and crushes will soon crash like those ignorant waves smashing into hard – sharp – indifferent cliff.

If you have  never ever read my blog, never talked to me when I am freaking mad/out of my mind – in my better language English, never knew/memorized my 5km to-do/future plan list – all of which have priority over nonsensical dates… then don’t you even think of messing up your life by shoving it into mine. I am old-fashioned. I hate pretty and expensive coffee shop. I loathed watching movies for dates and I feel like vomiting when guys- who barely know me, do that thing they think they do best - sweet talk. For crying out loud... do I look stupid and naive - do I look like I will faint just because they pretend they care at all?

Since when love, relationship, all those precious and pure feelings have become this cheap and pathetic?

Never before have I been this sure and happy about my relationship status. Single.

Damn proud I am single.

시간에 지쳐도 사랑에 아파도

turned around...

Turned around ...

and I did not see you anymore. You were not sitting there.You were not looking dazed like you always do. You were not waiting for me to return with our cups of coffee... I wanted Latte..  but for a second, I forgot the desire to taste sweetness of milk blended in the bitterness of coffee... what I did want more?... what I do want most, even now: that taste of the final latte with you or the taste of your lips, in the field, with winds enveloping us...

headstrong, totally disastrously the one and only you

I did not see you, I could not see you... chances were I would not be able to see you again

turned around...

And I was frightened... and I was traumatized... and reality hit me hard, I was at that very particular moment, lost again. I had been clueless in the maze of my grief after he passed away, but you came, held my hands and led me out of misery. My frantic mind became clouded with all the possibilities of the better - as you think it is, and of the worse - as I am so sure, even in this moment: losing you was the hardest part. Isn't it too cruel? You, the only person who bothered listen to my mumbles and chants messed up in uncontrollable sobs, now left me crying my eyes out alone on the roof top of our lighthouse... Why weren't you here to hug me like before? Why weren't you here to hear me confess: I really did not like you. The truth is, with every fiber of my being, I was in love with you.
Isn't it too cruel?

turned around...

and it all fades away... slowly, but it does... you and that curious stare I love, you and that hug when I was drown in those letters to heaven, you and that kiss in the plain plain green field... next to the old red post. Everything starts with you. Everything was beautiful because of you. Because all that perfect frame, perfect lips, perfect and strange mind belong to you, I get myself back in the sunshines

as simple as it seems
as heartbreaking, as excruciating as it actually is
you
were
gone

...............................................


turn around

"have we... have we met before?"
"where as in ... where?" - Reality checking and sanity checking... even in my wildest dream I could not imagine seeing you again. I am waiting for you, though my conscious mind reminds me you are gone. Though it sounds ridiculously unsound and obscure ... I am still waiting for you, with the couple of cherries around my wrist where you used to hold me firmly and dragged me out of pain...

turning around

"in the plains... old post... a mail box in the green grass..."
we trail off, and away...

welcome back...
This time, I won't turn around, not ever again, not away from you

from Hana to Jaejun

Hanoi, winter '09

inspired by Hana, and Heaven Postman

crying my eyes out

.:but I remember:.

...then I grew up, from the day-dream that things would never change - that I, mighty me, would never wear make up or torture myself in high heels, that my best friends in high school would still be my very best friends when I am close to death... I am sure everyone is fine with this radiant transformation. People change - how cliche'- yet how true, we know it too well that no one want to admit how hurtful it actually is: our memories gradually fade away like the calendar flipping, thinning and being torn restlessly... The day I walked out of my house 29th Sep, 2005. I never knew I would return home today in this metamorphosis, 6th Dec, 2009. My once-upon-a-time-ear-shot hair now passes my waist. My half-hip pants now are now buried to the very bottom of my closet - getting ready to be given away... I wonder what will happen in 4 years time, after college... I still don't know, and I do not desire to make such undesirable assumption of miracles and surprises -  what supposed to be life's gift to me. You may discard these bits and pieces of the past - the days when we qualified the very definition of what we now laugh at: "country pumpkin". You may jolly well do it, but i

but I remember

I remember clearly the way I looked in secondary school and high school. As if it matters now, but somehow these memories complete the picture of my childhood - of the relationships I had with the people around me. I am sure I have always been one of the most undesirable girls in class, may be not the worst, but among the big NO-NO thanks to my dad who always cooks delicious food... How nice it is to blame it on someone else, especially my dear father who takes pride in this cooking skill... In short, rudely and shamelessly I was really fat, in the Asian definition of Fatness -  which in another word, I refused to believe I am any chubby in the West - though that was not the point. The point is, I remember how I once had to buy a guy shirt, in stead of a girl shirt as a group uniform with my 6 other close friends - who of course, finds size XS a little too huge. I was definitely humiliated and bitter. They did not know much, and I guess even Huyen Anh, who witnessed my tears rolling down on the way back from the stupid shop, would not remember but i, but I remember those days... Now I wear guy shirt, still. Loving it. Not by force or desperation like the sad old days but by choice, fashion anyway. With a tiny belt around my waist and there I go.

But then again. you may wonder why I am writing these things down... I am not a intention-less writer. Yesterday, I saw a guy who claimed to take interest in me - the new me - the already transformed me making a cruel joke about a chubby girl. She was not that bad, maybe she was like me, back then, I did not care that much and knew that much. I laughed - cruelly and bitterly at him, brain-dead him and left the table, without leaving a trace of my existence.

I may look different now... I may feel things, perceive things in a different way now... To make it simple I may not be the same girl I used to, once upon a time. But i, I remember...

I remember how hurtful it was to be laughed at because you are a plus-size chick, living among these sickly thin people - I still am FAT - in your very definition of Fatness. If I throw to u the i-don't-give-a-damn-if-you-think-I-am-fat attitude, it does not mean: I am not aware that you are rude. Just that your remark cannot hurt me like before.

They can change a girl's body shape - even in the most desperate method i.e. plastic surgery - I have NOTHING against it. But bloody hell, why can't they freaking understand that there is nothing they can do to de-stupid-ize a brain dead girl with perfect body? They can't replace her heart either - for a kind heart cannot be bought and shove into that perfect body they desire.

So I watch friend after friend going for body instead of soul... Ended up complaining to me their unlucky love life - well... well, well, well... they don't but i, i remember...

I remember their choice of partners, with much compromise of "buts" and "ifs" ... Since you treat it as a bargain, this is as much life can give to you... seriously why is there a need to torture yourself and make alibi for why he is NOT freaking there when you need him the most, why he could not say anything decent - or anything at all while you are sobbing uncontrollably? Is it a crime, for him to be himself and not the "him" you assume he is?

Being single is seriously not that bad, even in winter when people complain they need bodies to hug, to be hugged - I wonder where goes the need of clothes and scarf.

Instead of getting myself anyhow a boyfriend for the sake of being "warmed" this Christmas eve, I got myself a Zara basic, navy blue long coat, chick and class.

and I am good, sipping hot chocolate in my room, reading a few poems by Margaret Atwood

p/s: watch out Hanoi, I am learning to drive this afternoon. My dad is proud, mom rolls her eyes, complaining: "first bicycle, then motorbike and scooter, now CAR... when will you buy her a TRUCK or a TANK?" Dad and I sharing a tiny wink, thinking more or less of boat or plane rather than tank,we swear,but well,not to shock mom yet... say we are good with car. I am so excited

DBSK - only Human

and here in your eyes, I'd like to stay

My monologue:
I am very busy - I still keep track with DBSK. I read too much, feel too much but rarely have the time to pen down my thoughts... However I know, If I do not let it out NOW, I might as well BURST. MAMA, and their  latest Stand by you performance- which many criticize them for being unprofessional - yeah WHATEVER

1. I am glad you came

I am really glad JCS came to MAMA, I am not sorry I do not give a damn about others' opinion.
Calling them traitor? Calling them popularity-thirst? Calling them not legitimate to represent DBSK?
I am speechless, BEYOND my tolerance. Can't they see the desperation in Chun's voice? He longed to sing on stage... Can't they see JJ is at the verge of breaking down? Can't they see? Or are they all blinded by the media? By SM and their tactics? If they can't see then I am telling you this JJ screw up the most handsome face of Asia - Chun broke down - BACKSTAGE, ladies and gentlemen, BACKSTAGE, if they freaking ask for your pity, or if they wanted some kind of sympathy or stir up Cassies' anger - They could have shed JUST a drop of tear, could have shamed SM or did something despicable, I am pretty sure, Cassies are damn willing to burn SM down.

BUT THEY STOOD STRONG till the very END as 3, for 5 members, for 1 DBSK, withOUT CODY, BODY GUARD, with un-sponsored suits, with weary and polite smiles and tired frames... How many of you cry for their conditions? How many of you actually care and feel their pain being separated from their identity? Being reduced to mere voices, not singers, muted singers - the agony of being allowed to stand on stage but NOT to talk to your members/brothers or answer questions?

That's DBSK for you.

Please don't hurt them anymore, Please don't doubt them!
No one tells them this yet, I can't directly come up to Chun and beg him to translate to Su - in case Su, with his MARVELOUS and amusing Su-glish misunderstand my good intention:

"JSC, I am glad you came. I am thankful, you came. I am grateful against all odds, against all threats, you came. I am sure, if there was one freaking reason why you risk your future to step on stage that particular day, it was for US, for CASSIES" - I am just very glad you came

Really if you can't make up your mind and abide your word: "Keep the faith", just move fandom. Faith is not denial, we are all well aware of the situation. We don't deny they are going through much, even anger within themselves toward one another perhaps, but faith... HOPE DIES LAST remember that. That if you chose to believe in their friendship for years, have some faith that even if they fight - as ALL of us have been there,done it, wanted to murder our best friends just so one day ended up crying in each others' arms saying one simple word: SORRY

2. Friendship

Some people started to falter from the very beginning of the lawsuit... some people start  falter now. Some people. NO, I won't deny, MANY people are doubting their friendship.

I don't - even if tomorrow, I see their pictures punching one another, swearing or calling each other's name - I don't doubt their friendship of more than 10 years, 6 out of which they inked themselves, engraved in their heart 4 letter words

TVXQ.

It's true we don't talk with our best friends in primary school anymore, it's true friendship does not stay forever - but it does not mean IT WAS NOT REAL.
At that very particular moment back then in time, they were close like brothers (I am not assuming that they are NOT now) In Paris and somewhere in Prague, in Grand Canyon and all over the places in Japan and Korea, back then they were each others' air to breath, inspiration to compose and motivation to push all that anti's threat and hatred to move on as DBSK.It was truly LOVE, and don't you dare doubt it!

3. Only human

For one last time, I just want to scream my heart out to let those soil-headed people know: even when they are named Gods rising from the East, even when they rewrite history and break all possible record: they are human, with flesh and blood i.e.
1. Your mindless/brain-dead words accusation and doubts/ gossips, whatsoever - I am sure you are damn good at creating chaos, dear SM and antis, DO hurt them emotionally
2. Your poison, in any form, whether it glue or a direct hit on the face, DO hurt them physically and mentally
3. Your constant stalk, camera straight up close to their faces 24/7 drives them INSANE
As much as we love them... we deprive them from the basic rights as human. We can fight with our friends, we can misunderstood our best friends, WHY CAN'T DBSK? Why can't Homin be upset with JCS because they miscommunicate and misunderstand? Why do you take just a moment of their anger to judge their years of hardship and brother hood?
Stand by you performance, Ok, I agree it was not their BEST one. Not being bias or fan-girl, fair enough, it was not their best. But what do you expect? Can you come up on stage, in THAT condition and pull it off better than they do? Common be honest! They are like the little mermaids, dancing their hearts out, beautifully on shattered glasses. So in THAT condition, you want them to smile CHEERFULLY??? You want them to PRETEND that they are fine? Give me a BREAK!, no not me, GIVE THEM A BREAK.
Even when they are DBSK, they are human... Why can't you let them be? They have been trying their VERY VERY best already.
Don't be ridiculous!

4. About JJ

JJ was one of my least favorite members back then, when I first start the whole fan-girling. I am pretty sure, to some of you who know me well, I am not a Yun-Jae lover shipper. I love U Know, simple as that. I rarely talked about JJ before, though those Cassies whom I love the most (namely: Nings and Iva) are both JJ's lovers. But here is something I want to say about JJ
At this particular moment, I would trade almost anything for JJ's genuine smile. I have read many fan's comments, fan's and anti's that JJ cried - what kind of weakness is that? JJ is like a girl, cry baby - real men do not cry...
-laugh, sarcastically LAUGH - Those tears he shed do not make him any LESS of a MAN, but on the very contrary, make him so much MORE like a HUMAN, bloody hell, he is not your freaking ice prince. I appreciate those tears so much because, they simply tell us one thing
---that there is something JJ holds dear to his heart, something JJ lives and fights for, something MEANS THE WORLD to JJ... That beautiful thing is DBSK.
For the first time, I am telling you this, I love and respect JJ - he has the dignity and courage to live true to his emotion and feeling. He is not a freaking coward who hides his heart, being scared of you people calling him a cry baby.
Just for THAT much, JJ is more of a man than any of those antis who call him names

5. Last few words

If one day, all this was to end...would you look back at the time you've spent loving them and supporting them as one you will forever cherish or would you look back and regret???

Fair enough, I thought I would give you my 2 cent, I am giving you my piece of mind worthy of at least $200. If it is still necessary to ask me this question then

NO

Not a moment, a second, a fraction of time will I ever regret loving them, adoring their music, trusting their brotherhood and friendship. Simply NO. fandom and fangirling - these are the things I did not acquaint myself with throughout my childhood and teenage life. Theses are the things I will never get myself into, if not for DBSK

here with you

...and here in your eyes, I'd like to stay

1. Family.

25th 8:00
I get out of my bed, running like a maniac in and out, trying to get my hair dried and my ao dai buttoned up

25th 8:45
I am in the car, driving to your place

25th 8:57
I am cursing the idiot who created the freaking traffic jam - Damn, I am gonna be 5 minute late
I am getting frustrated

25th 9:15 - 12:00
Up and down, 5 floors in heels, talking about madness and chaos.
Do you want a drink? a cake?
Where the hell is your flower?
Is the make up done yet?
... Hon and Ngoc are arranging flowers half the city away in the restaurant
... Bi is driving her tiny cutie car all over the places, getting newly made ao dai for her 6 aunts and mother
... My dad is walking back and forth arranging cars
... Uncles are clearing the traffic, wearing suits working like policemen
You are on your way to your new home

25th 22:00
You are on the way to the altar, in his hands
Again, I play the interpretor role, translating to your New Yorker friends the Vietnamese traditions
Chi Hon plays the camera woman role, snapping beautiful shots
Chi Bi plays the host, welcoming and ushering guests into their  seats
Chi Ngoc (Angie), exhausted after the whole day decorating the restaurant, sinks into her seats, mumbling something strange

25th 21:00
The party is over and I am on my way again
Chi Bi, Chi Hon, Angie and I all changed from our traditional costumes and heels to flats and casual clothes
Tomorrow is your party

26th 2:00
Chi Hon, Angie and I are on our way to Hanoi flower market, carrying flowers like real farmers
My mom is busy bargaining to save more and more money for you

26th 2:30 - 5:00
I am sitting on the floor, arranging wild flowers into different vases, decorating the restaurant
My nails change shade, from the healthy and pinkish clean color to the hideous mixture of dirt, sticky rubber and yellowish green, after hours and hours of cutting flowers
4000 flowers: baby lily, roses, ... unknown flowers from the wild
and yet we still have 2000 more to go
Chi Hon is on a ladder with my mom, working on your flower gate
Chi Bi is half asleep, half awake, making a gorgeous slide show for you
Staff of mom's restaurants were setting up the table
Hot pink silk for your table cloths, the most expensive one of a kind - the color of happiness, white chiffon ribbons are tied on every single chair - the color of purity
everything you like

26th 5:10
I am asleep, on a bed, made out of three different chairs
so is Angie, with her scarf covering her face, sleeping like a little child
Chi Hon and my mom are still wide awake, doing the finishing touch, with pride
Chi Bi snugs in her car, trying to find some comfort

26th 6:10
We think we are frozen to death
Hanoi at breaking dawn isn't that mild
On our way back home, I looked back with a smile
a sleepish one - will you be happy with your hard work?

26th 15:00
And the chaos starts again
We all in ao dai of different color, high in heels and charming in traditional hair style and make up
Running like maniac around the restaurant
Me - working on your wedding pictures table
Chi Hon: somewhere in Hanoi, getting your poster printed
Angie: armed with glue gun and artificial flowers - just a little bit MORE
Chi Bi: setting up the slide show
...

26th 17:00 - 23:00
In ao dai, I carry food to table like a waitress, smile like an air stewardess, greet strangers as if I have known them for ages - NOT punching stupid guys who think I tolerate stupidity and flirts
... my toes are killing me
I have not eaten anything since yesterday crappy dinner at the other hotel

why?

Because chi Trang, it's your wedding day
Because of that whole hearted cheerful smile that stays on your beautiful lips, it does not matter if there are more work to do, if there is more horrid traffic jam to cross and there are more aching legs, uncomfortable clothes...
Because we are family, you aren't my cousin, you are my sister.
Because grandma's only wish, is to see you happy on your wedding day with anh Hoang
Because we all cried wishing she were here, with us, to see you shine like a star

Because we belong to the same family, we share not the same parents but the same grandma

Congratulation on your wedding day, chi Trang

Welcome to our family, anh Hoang

May you be happily in love now and ever after...

we love you so much

... and this is my family, the one who does not have the lightest idea about the different between "cousins" and "sisters/brothers" - my family tree is surely full of nuts, we cried and laughed at the same time, share bits and bits of private jokes

BUT I LOVE THEM TO BITS

because they are my family

and I am freaking PROUD of them :)

soon

Soon, we will be on the road again, travelling together, visiting one another...

Our last 4 papers, Rummy, our last week together already

I am coming home, next week, I am counting the day, ^^ , exactly 1 week.

Apart from the happiness, anticipation of my cousin's and your sister's wedding,

for a moment, I am really down

I know when I am back, you won't be there anymore.

You were the only one who ever picks me up from the airport, the one who never breaks her promises

It's not like it's goodbye but at this moment, I really miss you already

Hanoi is cold, isn't it? Hanoi is herself again, 12 degree, winter coat... and scarf

Changmai must be cold, too.

We both said we would email and keep in touch, and of course, we both will

Will we be just a phone call apart from one another still?

Will I just pick up the phone and disturb your peace with my nonsense just like I always do?

I wish I will get in my university of choice and you will too.

Though we part, we will see one another soon, Hanoi in December, Changmai in Jan and the States next semester.

Soon, we will part and soon we will reunite.

Soon, we will grow old and maybe, we will be able to make our way to Seoul

I can't wait to see you in Hanoi this December.

Actually I can't wait to meet you this weekend.

Even though we may be on the opposite side of the "heaven gate" and there is no way I will drag you to hell, just being able to meet you and befriend with you in this lifetime... it makes my 4 years of torture here in the land I appreciate but never will I desire to return... worthwhile.

According to Iva

According to them,
I am sarcastic, I am rude, I am out of my bloody mind

According to them,
I am a mess in a dress, acting cool, as if everything is fine

According to them,
I am all wrong - they are all right, always right

According to them,
I can't be any worse
or any better
Nothing can be fixed
My case is closed
unable to salvage
No one ever bothers
...according to them

BUT

According to Iva,

I am hurtfully sweet,

I am straightforward

I am daring

I am kind

According to Iva,

I am not freaking mentally sick

I am just upset

things will be alright

According to Iva,

I am safe in her heart, and

she misses me a bit, every now and then

and a lot, every once in a while

'cuz

Iva was made out of sugar

and honey

and spring rain, falling softly on pink roses' petal

Everything is fab

according to Ivana,

my Ivana

Dear Iva,

Today, I receive your letter, another one which makes me scream like a freak, happy like a kid, smile like an idiot for the rest of my day, (and probably, week). Your letters have always been exceptionally sweet - I should stop using that particular word, but trust me, my poor vocab does not allow me to find something more precise.

Things aren't that great and I am not always secured. Little rumors can get me a tiny little bit down... Yet, as I sat in a Japanese Restaurant today, enjoying my green tea ice cream when the speaker suddenly played Mirotic, I laughed like a child again, wishing Iva were there. For a second, I was wondering what kind of chaos we both would create... Hyper and nuts screaming "under my skin"? Dancing on the table? Laughing a lot and crying just a bit 'cuz we both miss DBSK too much?

We both are helpless, aren't we? Then again, I am glad, I could really find someone who is sincerely crazy, absolutely emotional and nuts, just like me -  we both aren't perfect, not even close. But together, things are so .. fine and right ^^ . I miss talking to Iva about JJ's one sided love (laugh) and speculate what is going on now behind DB's closed door, those kind of crazy imagination that only Iva would understand I not antis or dreamers, I am just... Linhieee. I hate this distance so much and hate the fact that I could not just be online and see Iva playing with her cat

Then again, through this, I learn, how much Iva means to me, Iva and Insa, and DBSK, and Love in the ice... and different time zones and ... all those private jokes shared among us, those Cassies whose home address is at the same CR, despite our locations in the world. I know I am not that wonderful and great, like what Iva aways thinks of me, but at the very least, I want to be better, to be the better person Iva looks at me and sees me through. So for all the things Iva said, and all the craps I have heard - just to put me down, I am glad, very very glad, there is still this tiny bit of happiness and rainbow in Czech who believes in me.

I should have written this letter in private... sealed it with a kiss ( laugh ) and pressed send with a smile. For once, I just want to "share (with) the world" this "unforgettable" and "beautiful thing", who is my "love in the ice": that I "miss you" with all my "heart, mind and soul" so much so "I can't put into words"

Really miss u, dear

Work hard, and score all the A, and 100% you deserve

I am really looking forward till our next "Insa"

Love,

Linhieee

Rainy blue

rainy blue 


Without a soul in sight, and it's midnight.
Outside the telephone box, and it's rain.
I keep turning the overused dial
and suddenly my finger falters.

I'm drenched in this cold rain and
struck by a bittersweet memory: I'm
at the intersection on the road you take home
and suddenly, my steps stumble.

The headlight of a car that brushes by me
creates a lonely shadow
and I'm searching for your white car
when suddenly, I cover my eyes.

Rainy blue was supposed to have ended
Rainy blue, how far will you follow me?
And so to erase this image of you,
today, again, I am alone with the gentle rain.

The memories bound with the tenderness
of that time pours down upon this street.

It's a rainy blue, it's a rainy blue.
These dripping tears soak my shivering heart.
It's a rainy blue, it's loneliness---


credit: in bloom


.......................................................


...and years after the day we parted, I will still remember my blue umbrella, too fragile to shield me from the tantrum of Britain misery, too small for the both of us: the hurtful me and the facade of you ... You weren't there and there is nothing we can do to change the fact that you weren't there when I needed you the most. I walked alone in the longest path back to my shelter. Without realizing, I walked away from the past... Though, sometime, drench in the rain, I still smile bitterly, thanking that fateful afternoon, when I finally grew up, and let go...

Bath, 2003

For some reasons, I do not wish to return to Bath again. I once loved Bath, loved the magical ring of flower, where I begged Ryan to give me a ride at the middle of the night, just to stand and made a wish, the one that did not come true, I can still recall. Simple things were made complicated back then. I was indeed too romantic. I guess I was much too young and the experience was much too painful for a 14 year old girl. I still keep that umbrella, though 6 years had passed eventfully. Never would I use it again or touch something alike, especially that particular color: sky blue, soft and gentle... There once was a girl in blue, blue umbrella, blue bag, a pair of wet blue shoes, wandering in Bath, searching for the memories of yesterday. 


Maybe I would not have thought of the abandoned blue umbrella again, if I did not get caught in the rain today, after exams... People were rushing to their shelters. Maybe I was the only weirdo who took her own sweet time in the rain. I smiled, for all wound will heal, all tears will dry up, all girls will mature - and maybe turn callous. As I sit comfortably inside my room now, open the window, breath in the familiar smell of Singaporean rain, I wonder: ... Am I ready yet? For more rains and storm - which I no longer avoid. They are my old friends... too familiar, too close...


Do you ever notice the smell of the rain? Of all, I love the one of Hanoi, loathe the one of Bath, indifferent to the one of Singapore... and long for the one of Perugia... How many cites have I passed? How many rain seasons have I gone by? Every time it rains, I recall bits and pieces of my childhood and the gone years... Of the laughter and wonders I shared with my father as a child, of the regret I will hold on for life for disobeying my grandmother...


"Bring an umbrella, ok?" - Now who will remind me such simple thing again? Who will care if I soak my soul in the rain? Who will silently put a raincoat in my bicycle basket for me? Today I stood in the middle of the crossroad... like a lost child.


Rainy blue...


I know you will follow me till the rest of my life, even when one day, I accept my chances of sunshine... Yet, watching my sorrow washed away in the rain, mirroring my reflection in pools of waters on the ground remind the past is real...


And that, thanks to rainy blue, I remember those tiny bits of happiness and sorrow, the combination of sweetness and bitterness that made me who I am today


.....


Am I ready yet? To write it all out?
I guess not... One day I will share it with you.


......


Rainy Blue and DBBlue


Shenzhen Concert is cancelled, more and more accuses and despicable lies... Guess what? You can't hang a person twice, the strong heart that was hurt once would never be hurt the same way again. I catch up with some DBSK news after my 1st week of exam... Ummm... too complicated! I shall not make any comment. As I said "I believe in them", I will keep my words till the end


When I said I will keep the faith, it was simply a promise on my part. I do not ask for anything in return from them - of course, how could I? I wonder why people are falling apart so fast. Declaring that you are no longer a fan - LIKE WE CARE - I guess to a large extent DBSK care. But whoever is meant to stay, will stay with DBSK no matter what. Shinwa's fan have been with them, waiting for Shinwa for the odd 5-6 years, celebrating Shinwa's 10th anniversary. Such love is admirable, for fans ask nothing from each members... Hottest need to learn from Cassies to protet in a more mature manner, but Cassies still need to learn from Shinwa's fan the patience and devotion to their idols. I am not buying all the news from SM - read with a head on your shoulders, stop making noises. It's annoying. Allkpop has started to become my source of laughter nowadays, in the most cynical way. It is pretty fun to watch those pretenders acting AS IF they care, as if FAITH means something to them, as if ... Amazingly I don't feel hurt by their comment anymore. Shallow! One word depicts their traits - that's all.


Still, in this silence, I understand much and learn so much more about press, mass media and something ugly called greed. Whatever happened, Yunho always said, treasure the experience, for even in loss and failure, we learn something valuable. 


.....................


Song of the day: Rainy Blue...
I wonder if I ever cross my pride to revisit those abandoned places of the yester-years. We don't have much time anymore, you know? I am going off and I won't come back... What becomes of us? I am not sure. . . Are we both too proud?


Or it is just me?

:) the A

This is it.

Once and for all those miserable days and sleepless nights

This is it.

3 hours per paper, which worths 2 years of education

4H2 x 2 + 1H1 x 2 = 10 papers in 9 days

This is it.

The A Level 

Tomorrow, 9th till 13th Nov

Next week, 17, 18 and 20th Nov

1 last "cry" on the 3rd Dec

Gonna look back with a HUGE smile.

All the best, people.

All the very very BEST

Packing 1: The wardrobe and my spring color clothes

the art of packing

thinking of the number of days till the moment I can officially go home, puts a smile on my face, not a tiny forced pretentious one, the huge shining (SHINEe, lol) wholehearted one. There is just something I hate - though it's part of my life, a pretty big part:packing

What do I need to sustain my remaining days? Just enough for exams, and school related meetings, I will no longer read that many books... though sometime, just looking at "Chances of sunshine" makes my gloomy day spark and reading Rummy's birthday gift brings calmness to my restless soul. Packing in the middle of my exams seems to prove me this statement is a fact: I am totally out of my mind

It's easy to empty my wardrobe, table and shelves but sometimes, it rips my heart apart to "empty" my memories, throwing away things that once were dear but now I am absolutely aware of their uselessness.

1. Wardrobe

Emptying my wardrobe has always been a challenge. I have not gone out much this year, but being me, I keep things that I may only wear once a year or even none. Redundant things goes first, there fly my colorful clothes. True enough, I had been in black and white even before my grandmother's departure. Till my grandmother 49th days, I still want to keep the tradition, though I am just her grand child, not daughter. I understand it means much to her. Tradition.

Tracing past memories, I remember how much she loved me in spring color: sky blue and baby pink or my shocking green. I didn't usually dress to what my grandmother preferred. It's not about generation gap, but more or less it is due to the nature of my internship. Being a teacher in a high school since 17, it takes more than just a firm mind, an attractive method to gain respect and class attention. I looked 29 when I was barely 18, said my students. Grandmother always asked me why - which I only smiled at her. I wanted to show her more of me this 8 month holiday. I really wanted to, at least bring a date home to make her less worried.

But I guess I was too much too late, to be in sky blue and baby pink, and shocking green for her to smile proudly

I think of her much recently, though I did not tell my mother about it. Simply looking at my blue silk dress makes me tearing up inside. I remember that cheerful smile on her face when I went out in this dress. "So who are you going with?" she asked. "No one, I just wanted to grab a new book" "In such a dress?"

She never knew how I dress up for the past 4 years. Short holidays have been purely work related and lazy days sleeping "on the behalf" of sleepless months. She never saw me in summer dress and proper heels but grey winter coat and black flat shoes. When I start to be a "girl" in its fullest meaning, I have been away from home

"I'd love to see you, in this such dress, you know, for ... a date..."

It took me a while to response: "Sure ma, one day, you will"

I packed my blue dress into one of the box and send it home. The same blue dress Minh saw me in when he caught me studying in Starbuck, the same blue dress he fell for almost immediately. I refuse my chances of sunshine, giving away an opportunity to fulfill my grandmother's wish

20 going 21, I wonder when can ever feel that happiness again, to be in the same blue silk dress in summer heat, to be coated with golden drops from the sky... and to see my grandmother's smile again...


"black black heart... I wish you offer more, I wish you make it easier, on me. Satisfied? I am on fire..."

Old song.
Before I realize it, I am standing in front of an almost-empty wardrobe. 4 years of metamorphosis from a kid to a young lady... Fashion has been my secret language... the desire to be read, to be understood in vain.

It NEVER means NOTHING for a girl to put on a scarf around her shoulders or a light pink dress. It NEVER means NOTHING... just that you could not crack the code and get into their complicated mind, to really see, the real us...

1 task is half done... still so much more to go... In that box of happiness, so many stories are left untold....Maybe in another day, I will let you know. Maybe not... I am still in the middle of sorting out my life.

sign

sign

The 1st time I listened to this song, I cried despite the cheerful tune. I had absolutely no idea what the song was about, no idea why, and how I came to this state. Ga In's voice... sweet desperation to: be saved, to be heard to be looked for. "mayday"

I guess, now I know why those tears rolled down my cheeks.

Nightmares of past experiences have never left me ever since the last time I sent out the sign, the last time, I whispered a particular person's name in despair, the one and only person I though could read my erratic thought, he left me of 17 years old bleeding till I lost all my sense - in a comma. The beauty of what cannot kill you, is the fact that it makes you so much stronger, callous, till the point you wonder, if this, cannot finish me off, then WHAT will, and WHAT can?

My interpretor, since when did we lose ourselves in translation? Since when could you not be bothered to read my sign?

I thank mom for bringing me back to life, for those times she listened to me crying, those times she drew the perfect line, refusing hear any more nonsense of a weakling, those time she pretended not knowing those salty drops of water were my tears, just to be by my side when I needed her the most. Because I am able to breath today, to walk pass the particular person without stirs, I refuse to send the SOS S.I.G.N to anyone. Isn't it too pitiful, to depend your matter of life and death on the hand of someone else? 50-50, if you yourself are not willing to save you, what make you think someone else will?

These days, for the countless times, I hear a voice in my head, unconsciously sending those "dot dot dot" SOS sign. However, no matter how devastated, no words of complains or misery have been uttered, not to anyone. It's deafening silence. I trapped myself in this glass box, filled top full the torturing liquid - I drown myself inside my Pride.

PRIDE, like those people who is addicted to self mutilation, I make a deliberate choice. I could have killed myself without knowing it. Pride, the very meaning of the word in the dictionary, which definitely should have had Yunho's picture as a famous example: "A strong sense of self-respect, a refusal to be humiliated as well as joy in the accomplishments of oneself or a person, group, or object that one identifies with". It is not about whether I can get 150 recent years of US History in my head or not. It is a must that I have to nail it, because I chose it.

temptation, giving in, giving up... temptation to tap the little "SOS" through the broken phone, give a little hint, the pleading eyes...

S.I.G.N

I just can't do it. I just can't take pity... WHAT FOR? This is my choice, even if it is completely STUPID from the start to chose this scholar-unfriendly combination, to walk away from my chances of sunshine, I start it, therefore I have to end it.

I guess it worths the fight, going against the winds to test my strength. In my fading memory, I remember the vividly the desire of a young girl, 13? 14?... 19, 20? who gave up love, the opportunity to be pampered, cared for, for this rocky path; the particular girl, who cried herself to sleep, singing the only lullaby:
"let me feel, I don't care if I break down
let me fall, even if I hit the ground
and if I, cry a little, die a little
at least I know I lived
just a little"

2.50 am
I am 20, I have 150 years of US History in my hands. My A level comes next week, starting with History, Math, and GP. I understand my situation perfectly well, that I am drowning, but NO, I am not sending SOS sign.


"dot dot dot dot" - in the dark, the broken phone buttons are pressed in dignity, a simple message home:
"mom, I am fine"

gonna be ok

a foreign number
a huge smile on my face
...whisper to the wind
it's gonna be ok

............................

1. on the run
Salty water from the sky soaked my thin jacket. I have been in black ever since. Black, black, blank out. The bursting sound of the alliteration "b" makes me ponder upon certain incidents. I walked in the rain, no rush, no worries, no fuss...

Are you insane?

No, I am not, but I want to be

like we used to be running in the rain, the 4 of us, Christin, Fanie, Cindy and I, running in the rain, splashing heaven's precious tears, completely ignorant of what future might behold.

Now are are not the same, pale and colorless, buried alive underneath the piles and piles of notes. Isn't it tragic? That we desire not the warm sunshine but the rain of the yester-year? the forgone laughters and the innocent games?

I walked against the winds. When the gale is at its peak, I am getting ready for the race now. Get set... The moment the storm embraces my frame, we shall begin. Blood and sweats, tears of victory or failure, all these moments of despair and happiness

were coming back to me. They no longer hurts, or bring me down... Like the sweet reminder of the bitterness I have tasted, they greet me wholeheartedly

4 years... sickening competition, sickening social complains and unreasonable demand, who remember that child with the huge eyes gazing upon Orchard Road, admiring the very place later on she could not wait to get out? I will miss Singapore, I am grateful for this place... but these speeches are redundant now.

till the end of the race

................................................

2. Insa 884
I guess in my small bubble of happiness, my daily dose of serious and nonsensical talk with Cassies, my dearest friends have helped me spread my "insa". I am leaving for a month. Fandom has been great, when Harang is drunk, Tiff is firm enough to make sure doggie does not hum the wrong victim. When Fara and I need to study for exam, Nezz will encourage us to flung all the stupid tests... Just recalling all the moment we share, all the smiles and laughters warms my heart. You have been there for me when my heart breaks a tiny bit. You have seduced me to look at Yunho in a perverted manner which never fails to make me laugh. You have been always there, in both sunny days and gloomy nights. It is so hard to say goodbye. Already at this moment, I have felt the loss, thinking of missing out so much laughters and tears, tight grips across the world

I am so sorry I am leaving at this critical moments when every news is another heartbreak, every truth can be a lie. I regret, I will not be there anymore, in my bubble of fandom...

Tintin, my dearest Xeanne asked me what I thought of Yunho's silence. I said I did not know, but I knew in my heart, I had the answer. Like a deluded girl in love, I gave him the benefit of doubts, that, till he speaks up, explains, I will not doubt him. THis is all I can give, this tiny support. isn't it so easy? To lose faith to whine whine and whine about how hurtful you feel... Well, how dare I say I am hurt and sad, I was not the one who was pain 1% of the amount of money I made, I was not the one who was trapped in a merciless company for 13 years, I was also not the one who had to go to hospital for overwork. How dare I make noises as if I KNEW what is going on.

For the fact that I am not in this mess
For the fact that I believe: even though you can't see the bottom of the ocean, it does not mean you should underestimate the strong currents within.
For the fact that I am sure if I am hurt 1, he must me in pain 100x

For the most crucial fact that I really really love him
I am not doubting any one in DBSK. Final stance, till I hear their voice speaking up, I shall not let the media plays with my emotion


Just a note for Iva: One thing I want to make it clear, I don't believe Iva is human. I am sure this particularly talented Czech movie maker must be made out of sugar and honey. Sweet and kind, naive and ... emotional, Iva was one of my first acquaintances and proudly I announce today, she is truly a friend in my heart. I am not gonna be there every time to make sure u are not sobbing over JJ-one-sided-love, I am not gonna share link, and amazing fics for a while. But hey, if I watch a DBSK clip, I will think of Iva. If I listen to Insa, I will think of Iva. So smile, OK? Laugh my share of happiness also ^^ I really gonna miss u

And I receive your day1 letter also, sweetest thing ever, all the way from Czech. You made this rainy day in Singapore shine.

..............................................................

3. Rummy

I found Rummy blog, "beautiful thing" in a "rainy night", home for the soul of the wanderers like us. On my road to find myself, I find my soul mate. I loath this life here, but I am thankful, for I met you. So even though I have been hurt, I have cried, I have wished I had never gotten tricked into this scholarship, it all pays off, cuz I have met Ruam

...............................................................

4 Gonna be OK
... for all said and done, I am gonna be OK ^^
... DBSK is gonna be OK
... Cassies are gonna be OK
... Rummy is gonna be more than just OK

things will get better, cuz if it has not finished raining YET, if I am still soaked and trapped in my school, well, it's not the end yet

waiting for rainbow ^^

finito

2 days... 3 days

How many hours did I not sleep?


maybe it has gone to the 49th hour as I turned disorientated
I left my cover letter - which was the reason why I went to the Lucky Plaza post office in my room, took the correct bus yet ended up mixing Lucky Plaza and Far East Plaza. I got down from the wrong bus stop, looking like one absolutely mentally unsound person. I mastered the art of talking to a friend while sleeping, he pulled me on his shoulder, wishing his crush does not take 700A at this particular sensitive time - or else I will just fell off my seat - I was till talking, all in half sentence. Something about Ms. Siew Geok and letter and before I finished what I said, I have already added another half sentence.

Collapsed on my bed, after clicking the "submit" button

24 hours, I woke up once to tell Fanie: I am hungry, then slept again, forgetting I was starving.

Ate a proper meal for he 1st time after 5 days at 3pm today

Darryl called, just to laughed at me: "You should be glad I am gay, sleeping on my shoulder like that!". - Dearest, you are not gay, you just don't like me in that particular way, and maybe that's why I love being around you so much, you and your sarcastic remarks.

I have done, what I could within my power
Now I left it to your blessing, I regret, still depending on you though you have already gone away. I really want to make you proud

if

9.30 p.m.
Another message:
"If I lose the world because of you, I wouldn't lose you for the sake of the world" - Byron. I am not giving up on us
............................

Such spirit should be saved to salvage another soul, not mine.
Exhausted, I really can't hold on to more when my hands are both full

I am not asking for sympathy - oh please - as IF - not asking for anything, even respect of my decision

Something I have learned from my grandmother, from my DBSK, when no one opens the door for them, they just keep working hard, do what they know is right. I will do the same now.
............................

I wish my mother could have the strength to carry on.
Seeing her, like this, in pain, lost, at the verge of insanity, it hurts me so much I want to burst. I miss grandma too. Just that I can't be the emotional one, when I am depended on.
Just like grandma is her world, she is mine... Today I woke up, and the sky was pouring down, what angers you? What pains you to shed so much tears? What drives you mad and frustrated? - like a child, I hid myself in my blanket... pretending I did not see the tantrum of the sky. My hands are full, I can't hold on to more.
............................

Not going to talk to my mother tonight.
Not going to talk myself into a insanity anymore.
If I go on like this, If I give in to my emotion, If I stop just for a couple of minutes and try to deal with the mess I am sitting on - I am positive, I will end up breaking down, JUST LIKE BEFORE
............................

Listening to Insa, now. . .
and at least feel glad, I can still hold on to their music
and breath out softly
and have a bit of faith - that this is just not the end yet
and breath in slowly
if
if
if
...
if

sitting on a mess

Sitting on a mess

I am sitting on a mess
not out of bed sheet or pillows
or dirty laundry of yesterday - or a week before
Not something tangible
thus I can't get out of my seat
and tidy it up

I am sitting on a mess
of words, phrases, sentences... unwanted
or maybe wanted
break into syllables, then put together,
How can I put it across, to you
my beloved grandmother, mother?
how can mere words ease the pain?

I am sitting on a mess
of emotions: frustration, anger, desperation
or even contentment
I know not the precise phrase
to capture this feeling. SO
I keep quiet
inexplicable deafening silence...


I am still sitting on my mess
finding the correct word
to tell you
something so simple
such as

I miss you

...........................

I feel like swearing

but then I won't. It is just frustration, the unrest mind, the guilt struck soul...
I have to be able to "write" again, I have one week, no, actually one day, till the sun rises.

I have been trying to write something for my grandmother. Bitterly I laugh at my final decision. I have this pathetic list of people I want to write to. She was on it since last Mar, I kept thinking "next weekend" Like a cat chasing after her own tail, I was lost in my mountain of work, of pills, dreams and nightmares. Half written letter, I burned up the ashes of my irresponsible youth yesterday, in the endless chant of prayer for her soul. I wish you peace. Nothing else. I wish you peace. forgive me, I was far too reckless and confident.

Fate and her ugly game, right when I thought she was being nice to me, showering me with love of parents and best friend, the spark of end season romance and success in study... she prove me WRONG. A nasty goddess would feel ashamed if she is too nice to someone, I guess. But of all things, of all people, she chose grandmother - I never thought my light house would distinguish her source of guidance so soon...

I started a week back - it does not make any sense till now. Why the hell is it an elegy, while my grandmother only loves to read casual letter from us? I remember her last letter to me, shaky handwriting, she was apologizing for not being able to write any longer for her hands were shaking too much. She was apologizing for her "ugly handwriting". I could not have seen a more beautiful letter - even in her old age, she penned down her love for me. Handwritten, so much efforts and so much care - how dare I took it for granted

I was in a mess, emotionally. Type, retype, write, rewrite, scribble, toss and turn. Isn't it too sad when it is too late to tell her some simple things: like how much she means to me, how nonsensical my hurtful words were... that I don't ever hate her, in fact I admire her so much? Children do not have the maturity to write an elegy, an adult told me that. I remember my anger, of being called children, of being perceived less than what I can do... I kept silent. I talked to her now and then, now that she can hear me everywhere I go, I talk to hermore often that the lazy phone call miles and miles away from Hanoi. I remember her excitement and cheerfulness just hearing my sleepish voice over the phone, my imperfect Vietnamese, my abnormal accent...

24 hours, and I have to get it done. I told her so, and I will keep my promise.

I am sitting on a mess... picking up fragments of tossed, unwanted lines I left on the floor.
She never thought I was a beautiful mess - just a mess she loved - an imperfect mess - that she loves with her life

...........................................................................................

I need to hear my mom's voice, like a guess game, I weigh how much she misses my grandmother today... estimating the depth of her sorrow... I need to hear her voice so I can sleep. I am scared too, hearing her exhaustion, another cry? another self-blame monologue? What now? I love her so much it hurts that I am so fking far away, that I am like a ghost, come and go, leaving her broken just like that...

After our daily talk, I am left alone with new familiar emotions... what now? what is best for us? I don't know

629
that is the number of times I played Kiss Shita Mama, Goodbye in my ipod, since my grandmother passed away

502 for Thunder
and 49os for the rest of my Dong Bang lullaby

nowadays, if not for the healing voice of DBSK, I would go on 4-5 days sleepless - for every time I close my eyes, my half written, scribbled letter wakes me up, like the cruel laughter of Fate: Why wasting time on sleeping, when u have so much work to do?


............................................................................................

still sitting on a mess
sorting out my own life

light house

One short sleep passed, we wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; death thou shalt die.

......................................
Grandma,
I am sorry, I am sorry I could not grow old soon enough, to let you see the woman I become
I am so sorry I am home soon enough, to get scolded by you even for the last time
I am so sorry I have not made you proud, nor have I done anything to lessen your worries about me.
I am sorry I could not fast forward the time to show you my boyfriend, to stand in front of you in my wedding dress, to let you know I am in good hands...

I am sorry I am home too late...

I mean it, I am sorry.

...................................

Softly I chant a prayer for her... monotonous, disrupted and broken in foreign tongue. I always think when I am home, she would always be there, without fails, always be there to wait for me... Too naive, am I? to think I am the only one who need her... to think her life revolves around waiting for me tirelessly in the corner of Hanoi... to forget she has walked this lonely journey more than 40 years, waiting for the reunion with my grandfather

I should have been happy for her departure... My grandmother did not suffer. Maybe, this is the way I chose to see it... To see her sleep and slip into the other world with a smile, hands in hands with my grandfather... Maybe death is not that scary, for there are lovers await us on the other side... I should, but I could not.

I am selfish, I am still a pain in her neck all the time. I love her to bits but I could not bring myself to ever agree with her on any term... I am selfish and childish I still need her in my life. I am selfish and childish I just want her for my own... She promised to match-make me, she said I am the MOST difficult grand daughter she ever has, thus she must work hard to get me a proper husband... But now she is gone, what am I supposed to do? Does she know I still depend on her so much??? even holding on to her silly promise?

.......................................

itouch keeps on playing a song: Kiss Shita Mama, Sayonara...
Now I understand... even if it is just a lie, even if it is spilled coffee over my new bed sheet, even she made another mistake, scolding me for no rhyme and reason... I still want it all... I claim it all, her hot temper, her forgetfulness, her strange ideas... if she could still see me tomorrow, when I return, if she could still ask me again: how are you doing?

Things I took for granted, now I want them so much... I want them back, those last four years of her life, I have always been away from her, those hurtful words I mark... those lies that I could not stand her

It is not that I could not stand her, it is just that I cannot stand not having her in my life

....................................

Safe journey, Grandma
We will meet someday, at the end of my restless road... one fine spring day

.....................................

the notebook

Young Noah: You're bored Allie. You're bored and you know it. You wouldn't be here if there wasn't something missing.
Young Allie: You arrogant son of a bitch.
Young Noah: Would you just stay with me?
Young Allie: Stay with you? What for? Look at us, we're already fightin'
Young Noah: Well that's what we do, we fight... You tell me when I am being an arrogant son of a bitch and I tell you when you are a pain in the ass. Which you are, 99% of the time. I'm not afraid to hurt your feelings. You have like a 2 second rebound rate, then you're back doing the next pain-in-the-ass thing.
Young Allie: So what?
Young Noah: So it's not gonna be easy. It's gonna be really hard. We're gonna have to work at this every day, but I want to do that because I want you. I want all of you, for ever, you and me, every day. Will you do something for me, please? Just picture your life for me? 30 years from now, 40 years from now? What's it look like? If it's with him, go. Go! I lost you once, I think I can do it again. If I thought that's what you really wanted. But don't you take the easy way out.
Young Allie: What easy way? There is no easy way, no matter what I do, somebody gets hurt.
Young Noah: Would you stop thinking about what everyone wants? Stop thinking about what I want, what he wants, what your parents want. What do YOU want? What do you WANT?
Young Allie: It's not that simple.
Young Noah: What... do... you... want? Whaddaya want?


...........................................


reminds me of "The way I love you" by Taylor Swift.
They were a mess, my beautiful mess. But their ridiculous love was something which never failed to make my day.

I miss their madness of fighting over silly things, I miss their chaos, their bickering, the you-are-a-pain-in-my-ass-but-i-love-you-to-bits relationship they shared. D for past tense, D for the messy after math of the-why-the-hell-did-they-break-up, the walking away when both still love one another. Now he is a piece of cloud floating around aimlessly, and she with her new lover, conforms to this trying-so-hard-to-please young woman. I miss observing their endless fight, knowing well, they will make it up to one another just by a gentle touch.

I miss and I love both of them, not now, but once upon a time back then, when they were stupid and when they were together. We all settle for things, which are "easier". I was abandoned in a sense for the person of the yester-year finally gave up on my obnoxious behavior. So what? I am not gonna change, though my own mother commented I should not be so difficult.

...................................

Noah: I am nothing special; just a common man with common thoughts, and I've led a common life. There are no monuments dedicated to me and my name will soon be forgotten. But in one respect I have succeeded as gloriously as anyone who's ever lived: I've loved another with all my heart and soul; and to me, this has always been enough.

...................................

we don't have to be the same to be in love

opposite attracts - again I smile, thinking of this particular sentence from the past. Yes, opposite attracts, but what stay? adjustment, the attempt to be less of ME, to be more of "US" makes 2 people stay together

but then again... I must love someone for who he is, full package of talent and insanity, ambition and obsession... I miss home
...................................

for being "wicked"

Half-hanged Mary
by Margaret Atwood

I was hanged for living alone,
for having blue eyes and a sunburned skin,
tattered skirts, few buttons,
a weedy farm in my own name,
and a surefire cure for warts;
Oh yes, and breasts,
and a sweet pear hidden in my body.
Whenever there's talk of demons these come in handy.

"I hurt, therefore I am"


Mary Webster, sentenced to death for being "strange/weird/wicked" - just another word for being "DIFFERENT". If I had lived in that society, I am pretty positive I must have been hanged not twice but skinned alive like the little fox and animals in China by now.
.....................................................


"I hurt, therefore I am"


.....................................................

"wickedly" sarcastic, "wickedly" sharp, "wickedly" sensitive
Mine mine, what have I become?
The mirror of life, reflecting its hideousness and beauty?
The echo of the world, shouting back in double, triple amount of what it whispered to me - most of the time, not kindness but cruelty and hurtful remark

I was hurt, therefore I close my heart, therefore, I guard my sense, therefore I defend before being attacked.
I was wounded from top to toes, from flesh to bones, therefore, I know where it hurts the most, where the pain is most unbearable, therefore I in turn, master the skill of inflicting pains on others...

I have moved from the very definition of kindness and forgiving, to the twisted soul of a fighter, a defender, being indifferent to people's pain - it does not hurt that much, why are you complaining? The more excruciating the pain is, the better, faster, more unforgettable the lesson you learn... In one way or another, we all should learn, don't we? SO why take the easy way out. Get burned once to NEVER play with fire twice.

Little do I realize, different people value different things, and possess different level of tolerance toward pains... Even endurance to hardship. Since the very beginning of my journey to Singapore, I was unable to make sense of my room mates' tears - being their 1st time away from their parents. More precisely, I was unable to make sense of my own emotion - why I was unable to shed that lake of tears too? Why I was so different - my pride or my curse of being "abnormal"

.............................................

I am not proud of what I have learned, through fictions and facts, to reality and literature... Margaret Atwood certainly has become my favorite author. Miss Lin told me to read more of Robert Frost, for I lack the love for nature, for I lack the appreciation for the world around me... In stead I get myself in to Atwood.

I do not expect to be understood. I do not demand sympathy.

I ask for nothing from you.

............................................

In the middle of my personal statement, I wonder what I should write, about myself
About my desire, my worth

............................................

Tough luck, folks,
I know the law:
you can’t execute me twice
for the same thing. How nice.

I fell to the clover, breathed it in,
and bared my teeth at them
in a filthy grin.
You can imagine how that went over.

Now I only need to look
out at them through my sky-blue eyes.
They see their own ill will
staring them in the forehead
and turn tail.

Before, I was not a witch.
But now I am one.

...

Having been hanged for something
I never said,
I can now say anything I can say.
...............................................

what am I now?

Melting the ice

Remembrance
by Emily Bronte

Cold in the earth—and the deep snow piled above thee,
Far, far removed, cold in the dreary grave!
Have I forgot, my only Love, to love thee,
Severed at last by Time's all-severing wave?

Now, when alone, do my thoughts no longer hover
Over the mountains, on that northern shore,
Resting their wings where heath and fern-leaves cover
That noble heart for ever, ever more?

Cold in the earth, and fifteen wild Decembers
From those brown hills have melted into spring:
Faithful indeed is the spirit that remembers
After such years of change and suffering!

Sweet Love of youth, forgive if I forget thee,
While the world's tide is bearing me along:
Sterner desires and other hopes beset me,
Hopes which obscure, but cannot do thee wrong!

No later light has lightened up my heaven;
No second morn has ever shone for me:
All my life's bliss from thy dear life was given,
All my life's bliss is in the grave with thee.

But when the days of golden dreams had perished,
And even Despair was powerless to destroy,
Then did I learn how existence could be cherished,
Strengthened, and fed without the aid of joy;

Then did I check the tears of useless passion,
Weaned my young soul from yearning after thine;
Sternly denied its burning wish to hasten
Down to that tomb already more than mine.

And even yet I dare not let it languish,
Dare not indulge in Memory's rapturous pain;
Once drinking deep of that divinest anguish,
How could I seek the empty world again?

.....................................................................

The clock is ticking . . . . . Comes 1st of Oct.
Time passes by so fast sometime I wonder if things are real... Flashback from the past burdened my heart. Yet the shocking incident yesterday made me realize: in some part of my shattered and frozen heart: the ice is melting.

I ran across a person from yester-year who once was the world to me. For that split second, I felt no anger, no remorse, no stir... Just a pure calmness of we-pass-by-each-other-so-what? I went back to what I was doing.

Is it true that I have learned to accept hurtful experiences? Is this true that incident from the past can no longer make my heart ache? Or simply because it is life. Because I have tons of things to complete thus my level of tolerance toward absurdity and nonsense has decreased tremendously till I reach this point of callousness, indifference? I know not

But for some reason, I am glad. Knowing the ice is melting, wound of raw love and passion from the past have gently and gradually close its mouth

CLOSED - CLOSE

I still remember things I was taught, but in a grateful way. How many months since the last time we talked... 28th April 2007 ... counting down. In the next fifteen April, I may still remember vividly the way things were, the person I was, the love the ideal and childish utopia I imagined. . .

I never could have imagined, before I could ever write him a love poem, I had already written him an elegy.

..............................................................


Life as a Cassie
As I promised myself, I did something incredible, I placed my payment for the DBSK DOME concert DVD yesterday, with my own money. ^^ . Ruam, my dearest best friend, an ardent SHINEe lover who is sometime distracted by the hotness of 2PM told me her plan to get to SME as a staff. I laughed my heart out, but with a huge grnt,I think she could really make it, if she wants it badly, enough. Knowing Ruam, maybe one day.

Me and her, and our love for K-pop, our friendship... We have decided our separate ways for the future... We want different things in life, simple as DBSK and SHINEe, to university of choice. I know, we are working hard, at least to get to the same city, or the same state.

"Promise?"
"same city? New York"
-laugh- "Maximum 2 hours away from one another?"
"Promise!"

The thought of us, being able to stand strong together until this moment, after 4 years of hardship, bickering, hurtful rumor... warm my heart.

Ruam... and K-pop... and DBSK are you the gift from above, sent to melt the ice in my heart?

......................................................

wait for me

wait for me... I am walking toward you.
wait for me

.....................................................................

Jung Test Results

ENFJ

.....................................................................

INFJ

.....................................................................

ESFJ

.....................................................................

I am seriously getting frustrated

Extroverted (E) 53.13% Introverted (I) 46.88%
Intuitive (N) 55% Sensing (S) 45%
Feeling (F) 55% Thinking (T) 45%
Judging (J) 55% Perceiving (P) 45%

Your type is: ENFJ

53.13 - 46.88 and 55 - 45...

a mere 10% difference makes my life complicated. Maybe he was right, maybe he was wrong. Even he himself was unsure whether I was an Extrovert or an Introvert. Maybe I am not who I used to be anymore. From an I to an E, from an N to an S... Maybe I am changing 'cuz I have experienced too much for the past 2 years...

Maybe, I change for the better, maybe for the worse. I believe if he could see me now, he would have rejected the whole idea of having fallen in love with me. MaybeI was only an INFJ when I was with him...

Frustration

I am confused.

But why must I care so much for nothing changes, even if I know what is my personality type, would I be able to learn my mistake, prevent things from going wrong?

...........................................................

wait for me
I am coming home

on my own

... I could not sleep.
I think I might have done something horrible to Ning... I ended up reading her twitter for almost the whole night, while editing a few pictures for Fanie and Cindy. Knowing it hurts. I wonder why the whole idea did not cross my mind before I even got myself into it... I mean, into U-Know and DBSK. Now it is too late to turn back, I enjoy that bits of comfort too much. Their songs and their laughters... Their existence in my life deepens day by day, not just the typical idol-fan girl crap anymore. Like my melody, I can always find a piece of their lyric to pamper my emotion, to express my chaotic mind, to hype up my day.
Little do I realize my relationship with them, again reminds me of a song I used to sing alone, with the weary yet hopeful smile, which now vanished.

"On My Own"
"And now I'm all alone again
Nowhere to turn, no one to go to.
Without a home, without a friend
without a face to say hello to
But now the night is near
And I can make-believe he's here

Sometimes I walk alone at night
When everybody else is sleeping
I think of him and then I'm happy
With the company I'm keeping
The city goes to bed
And I can live inside my head

On my own
Pretending he's beside me
All alone
I walk with him 'til morning
Without him, I feel his arms around me
And when I lose my way, I close my eyes and he has found me

In the rain
The pavement shines like silver
All the lights are misty in the river
In the darkness, the trees are full of starlight
And all I see is him and me forever and forever

And I know it's only in my mind
That I'm talking to myself and not to him
And although I know that he is blind
Still I say there's a way for us

I love him
But when the night is over
He is gone
The river's just a river
Without him, the world around me changes
The trees are bare and everywhere the streets are full of strangers

I love him
But every day I'm lonely
All my life I've only been pretending
Without me, his world will go on turning
The world is full of happiness that I have never known

I love him
I love him
I love him...
But only on my own... "

Ain't we too hopeful? Ain't we pure dreamers? People tell me: DREAM it does not cost you anything to dream, DREAM! - little do they know, holding on to the false dream... waking up one day, realizing my dream has shattered costs me a river of tears, and years of regrets

It takes my mom a good hour of talk, heart to heart like we always do. She asked if I even considered the Japan scholarship. . . I mean, at least Japan - Tohoshinki - it makes more sense than somewhere in New York, doesn't it? She frankly asked me if I was willing to give up my dream of 20 years for a guy - even if he is Yunho...
..............................................


Pure guilt till this moment. But then again, I really hope, Ning will go further than me. Between Japan/Korea and my University of choice, I ended up making a decision today, a clear answer to my mother. Going against my heart, I will be watching over DBSK from afar. . . I may not be able to do much till I actually get my degree and earn my money. Till then, the purchase of an original CD, though small is till an act of support. Till then, the message from an unknown international Cassie though seemingly insignificant is still an act of support from the pure and arden love for them. I wish I could tell them this moment: Wait for me, till I can actually support DBSK in a more significant manner, like a translator perhaps, or an organizer for their performances in Vietnam. Till then, I will work hard - don't I just sound like Yunho? I will keep my promise, no matter where I am

...............................................

Most kids have to grow up. And I did today, in a way, not a pleasant one, but a necessary one. Guess, I am giving up the "fan girl" mode to get back to my feet and be stable. I am not giving up though, Of all the things, no, I am not giving up my desire to support DBSK.

...............................................

I am going on a trip tmr... away away from here