Uh huh

I can’t sleep...Another night of endless frustration and anxiety.  I promised myself my brain would rest before the music is over and the clock hits 3am.  Again, promises are made to be broken just like the wise man says. My legs are curled up with my head resting on my knees while the arms pretend to be the best pillows for now...The eyes are closed but the mind is still thinking and contemplating the heavy atmosphere of life...I hate it. I don't like this because it feels like a bruise that only time, patience, and perhaps quietness can resolve. But god damn it! I want to resolve now, what is the answer?  Yes or no?  Checked or unchecked? True or false?  Kill the silence and let us, the painful creatures of this earth remain normal again.

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me.next

Such an entity you are, you refuse to move forward, you refuse to blend in so no one gets hurt. You see one entity, and that entity is you, you respect nothing from me because you know me, yet you respect the new ones because they are new.  You are one of those kinds that I’d already seen in the past.  Why am I doing this to myself…draining my precious time to a black hole when no such consistent respect has been shown after I am no longer the “new” me…

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Why don’t you care?

So we met again.  Our words were not spoken, our actions were segregated, shy, and empty.  We viewed the atmosphere differently than we used to , it is natural we demonstrated such awkwardness after one moonlight of closeness and openness that had to end so early. 

Moving down the hall, you surpassed my expectations as you walked passed our inflection point without flinching.  You wanted to reveal the discontinuity between us but you were too discreet.  The continuity of my emotions were not easily revealed…nor was I easily transformed.  If only I could differentiate the moment of inertia that passed between us, I hope that someday we can integrate our emotions in order to restore the constants in our lives. 

I have one question remaining for you, do you love Lorentz transformations as much as I do?

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Why we don’t talk

You’ve been silent. I’ve been silent because you’ve been silent. You understand the complications of your world and mine. You know we are not meant to be..You desire rich social engagements, you want variety, you want numerous spices in your life.  But I, I only want you.  But you, you want something that I cannot strive for, both physically and mentally. 

My dear lovely yellow sofa, why are you not satisfied with only me?  Then so, I let you go. But forgive me, I never forget you, you are now with someone else, and so am I. My new lovely orange sectional sofa, who I have shared most of my moments with since you, is now loving me as much as you did when we first met at Modern Art Gallery Furniture.

Seeing I again

Note: People’s names are changed for reasonable purposes.

A bag of sleeping clothes ready to crash the night away at Lacy’s apartment after numerous hours of feeling escaped from the world.  I was invited to an experience that helped me see myself again. 

We are at Main street waiting for the green go, like always, Seattle never rains heavy like in Vietnam, the whole day has been on and off with little drops from the sky. While Lacy goes on complaining about some guy she met a week ago, an image I stole resides with me forever.  How could I forget once upon a time, a young man with baggy pants, long black shirt, listening to hip hop music from his CD player while crossing the street? A mother of two carrying groceries while her husband is on his cell phone doing the gangster talk with his friends? A homeless man sitting near the bus stop munching on a hard piece of bread while crying for each penny he can get from this run down neighborhood, the only place that will accept his existence?

“You’ll have to push it hard, no one here wants to fix this crappy door anymore”, Lacy complained to me as she turned her door key.

While I was removing my boots from those tired feet, a lady in her early 60’s welcomed me with a cozy smile that I haven’t experienced for a while.  As proper standard Vietnamese tradition where the youngsters respect the elders regardless of appearance or social status one person may carry, I slightly bent over and returned my welcome smile.  My eyes quickly became busy observing the environment that I was once raised in since coming to America; a small kitchen stood next to a living room with a single sofa for a family of seven, yet, still very neat and clean. A beautiful song played while a brother was taking a nap and the mother was cooking home-made congee soup.

“Lila! Come on! Let’s go change and get ready before it’s too late.” 

My mind quickly switched gears and completely forgot the main purpose of being here with Lacy. As her fast legs ran up the stairs, I followed behind her, yet at the same time, looking down to the greatest image that reminded me of my second childhood’s beginning.

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