Another nightmare in open eyes

The corridor of the hospital could be a life time obsession. Months go, yet it is still so vivid in her mind, that long windy corridor, as empty as her poor heart. As she walked that corridor, she’s so scared of what was expecting her at the end of it – her guardian angel suffering from the most human pains, her symbol of peace and shelter being cut open, bleeding, being consumed from inside by a dark force that once faintly haunted her just like an echo of an unknown source. Disaster came without a warning, and drowned her under heavy, silky, dark and cold water. She was somehow at peace, in the status of being numb from all the external stimulants. She damned that peace, damned that feeling of being buried alive, under water, still breathing and walking, yet feeling like she’s inside the stomach of a huge ferocious monster. When emotions were back, she repeated in her head, over and over again:

“Don’t be a human in another life!

Don’t be a human in another life …”

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The haunting “The scream” by Edvard Munch

Qua những kẽ ngón tay

“Sometimes I wish that I could freeze the picture

And save it from the funny tricks of time

Slipping through my fingers …”

Ngồi vẩn vơ nghĩ lại, thấy bao nhiêu buồn vui những ngày qua đã như một thứ bụi mịn gần như vô hình trôi qua những kẽ ngón tay hờ hững.

This too shall pass!

Còn gì đau buồn hơn và cũng còn gì nhẹ nhõm hơn!

Thời gian đã vô tình, chẳng lẽ mình cũng lại thế sao?

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(Anh Lộc chụp gổ Nghĩa trước cửa nhà – Hồi bé mình đã từng nghĩ gổ Nghĩa là một bà phù thủy có rất nhiều bùa ngải.)

Better behind closed doors

People all look nice in public.

They dress so well.

They post or share their best images on social media.

But who they really are, behind closed door?

I think I will go first. Looking at me, people think I’m a gentle and good girl. But I’m not.

I rarely do housework. I often go home late, so my sister does everything. She cooks dinner. I eat, and put the dishes in the sink. For her to wash the next day. How irresponsible!

My room is such a mess. I have a huge bookshelf that is about to crash one day. I have piles of paper on my working desk, and I don’t even move my fingers to tidy them up. Worst of all, I often leave home without doing my bed. Nasty, huh?

I’m very lazy. And messy. That’s me. Behind closed doors.

I know a guy at work. Technically, he’s my boss. If you go thorough his facebook, you’ll be impressed. He travels a lot to fancy places. He meets important people from time to time. He sometimes shares smiling pictures of him, seemingly loved by friends and respected by colleagues.

I only know him behind closed doors of my office. He’s a jack-ass. Everybody hates him.

If I want to be a better human-being, everything starts with me – behind closed doors. Things don’t need to be huge, like learning a new language or going to the gym.

Just do my dishes and my bed.

Just that.

Against the current

An intern of my office told me that I looked a little bit off, and that she would never bother showing me around shopping for more “feminine” and “smart” clothing. She rambled on about how I should style my hair, how I should apply my make-up and of course, how to pick up boys. She said that my posture sucks, and I would never get through a 2-sentence conversation with boys.

Ok, that’s rude.

Shut up, bitch! – That’s what I should have said.

But as usual, I swallowed the bad words that were dancing on the tips of my tongue, and laughed along with others, even thanked her for her “kindness”.

Classic!

I’m swimming against the current right now. I really feel the friction, losing some scales already over the everyday knick-knacks.

Screw it, I’m living my life. My way.

I can wear my mom’s coat to feel the mommy’s power getting me through the day.

I can wear my messy low pony tails to be a little bit free and off-duty.

I can wear my bare face to find my imperfection just another thing I thank for and cherish.

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