The silent love

And as the moon reflects on the tiny pond, and as the breeze kisses on your lonely face, the silent love sings a song that’s louder than the noisy roads.
 And as the world is too busy, so are we. 

That’s how the silence remains.
Is that ok? Is that fine? Can we get so high?

To read the mind 

To know that you don’t need to hide

Because you shine

Like the sun rises

And I hope, you’re mine.


The happy project part 8: Knowing how stubborn you are.

I have been dedicated myself ( aka nominated myself, for better definition) to lots of irrelevant things lately. Going to church, studying the Gospel, talking to religious people, walk the dog, read history books… and even talking bullshit with someone i don’t really care about. It doesn’t sound like me at all, but perhaps that’s a way to find inner peace; to do something you don’t really know or like, so the ignorance and the irritation could make your mind busy. And therefore, you know how mean your mind could be.

I am stubborn. I hate it when people try to demand or order me to do something. I don’t want to be tamed and need to run free, that is why i have faith in Lord but can hardly sit down and talk to those religious people whose God is all their life. I feel suffocating seeing them, that is a world that i don’t belong to even i know that is pretty good for them: having something to believe in. I don’t have it. It doesn’t mean that i don’t believe in the existence of God but myself. I have doubt about my own faith and believe that it chewed me to bones, wondering who i am and where i am.

I am not those lucky kids who go to church every Sunday morning, singing carols, praying to God and having no questions about the things they do.

I am not those teenagers whose behaviors are pretty bad and need religion to teach them how to be good

I am not a priest or missionary

I am not an extreme who thinks that being a martyr is the best thing they can do in this life

I am also not an athiest

Then Who i am? Do i really have faith or not? And if i have, is it really Faith? If it is, is it strong? and what should i do with that?

So i have always questioned about myself, i try to search for an answer. So i study the Gospel, and can’t stop questioning every line in that book. An elder who helps me to learn the Gospel said that “You don’t need to understand it completely to believe in it”. Oh yes, i know Jesus said “Bless those who believe in things they haven’t seen” (well can’t remember exactly the verse) but yeah, how can i ever open my heart if i don’t question it? What i am looking for is a way to open my heart, to accept things easily, and to be like those kids- believe in things without doubting nor questioning. My dear elder, you perhaps don’t know how fuck up it is for me to handle this stubborn heart. It’s like joining in a closing mouth singing competition. You know you can sing if you open your mouth, but this is a singing competition with a closed mouth. I am having the same competition with the pride i have built all this time: never be tamed and that running free made me for i am. I would feel ashamed with myself if the fence is down and i am leaded easily by those people in church. Just like that, I realize: conquering yourself is the most difficult thing to do in this world.

So dear stubborn heart, will you ever open your vulnerable self so someone or something can ever walk in?

I will see what i will do with you. With much love.

The happy project part 7: Bury your love alive.

It has been 3 months,  and i still wake up everyday by the our alarm song from Frank Turner then go to bed every night thinking of what have been said and done.  What made me hurt the most is you saying that i loved you more than you did,  so even you put everything into us, in the end of the day, it still was not enough.  And then you left me here with my little too much love that i have to bury it alive.

I never want you to leave, but it would be selfish of me to say so.


Can I keep that moment when you half naked, standing in the kitchen, bare feet, making breakfast for me? I’m not sure i could see it anymore in my entire life.

Can I keep that moment when we walked together in Bangkok, hand in hand, everyday? I would perhaps need some times to find another hand to hold on.

Can I keep that moment when i wake up every morning next to you, seeing the light outside streamed down on your face  while you were still asleep? I felt ease at heart.

Can I keep that moment you hugged me tight every time you went out for a smoke? I regret every time i was not there with you.

Can I keep that moment you woke me up by a kiss on my forehead and a cup of hot coffee? Where could I go to find someone that can make coffee for me every day like you did?

Can I keep that moment when we were so playful and happy? I have never felt like that again since you left.

Can I keep that moment we sat quietly together in a silent night and felt the pleasure of peace? I miss it. I do….

Can I keep everything about you inside me? like a white dress needs to be taken care of, I don’t want it to have any stains.

Can I keep everything about us deep down in my memories ? You will always be there, beautiful and whole like the first time we met.

I have never told someone that they are the best until i met you. And yes, you are still the best, I mean that.

I will bury my love alive, and the memory of you inside.

I’m happy because you came, i’m happy because we met. I’m happy because my memory is not a cliché of time but with you in it, it looks more beautiful whenever i look back.

Think of you tonight x


The happy path project 4: A walk in a holy place





After comparing love with a fast food combo this morning in my Spanish exam, I decided to take a walk around the centre of Saigon and found out this mosque. No more writing today but I’d love to take a look at this holy place again through my iPod’s camera. I’m not a photographer nor a Muslim. I just love the beauty and the tranquility of this place. I will surely come back 🙂
Perhaps tomorrow I will explain more how love sounds like a KFC combo to me.
I’m just literally happy today.

The happy path project 3: The happiness of vulnerability-p.2

I woke up the other day, talking to myself while doing my hygiene. Sitting still under the sun, i stared at the moss grown wall and start to tell it the story of me. The more I talk, the more I realize how much I focus on the pain instead of finding out how to ease it. I could see the contradiction, why do you have to notice about your pain too much while all you want is to be healed? Can you be whole again just by speaking it out? If tears are the way for all toxic to come out of your body, then will listing all your grief be the way to make you feel happy again? I started wondering myself if that is a way for all of us? To accept that vulnerability is always there in our life, accompany us along our journey and it is nothing strange that we are vulnerable human being?
Then i remember when I first started painting years ago, I learned how to recognize the colors. I learned that beside blue and red, each color has different tones and they create different color in the painting. I had never known the magic of painting since then. I think accepting the existence of depression and vulnerability in our life is like learning a new tone of a color, our mission is to add the new tones into the painting to make it beautiful and harmonious. Once we accept the truth that we are vulnerable, we won’t be too surprised when it hurts. Therefore, we can easily let it go and get back on track again once we fail or being down by anything in life. It might be hard, and I’m also trying to put myself together, accepting that being depressive is a part of me, and like the air; it has always been there. We can only feel the air when we stop breathing.
Lesson learnt: vulnerability is not as bad as it sounds. Be its friend, to have a new positive perception about bad feelings in life.

The happy path project 2: The happiness of vulnerability- p.1

I go to bed everyday after midnight, plug the earphones in and floating with the music. I don’t know how long does it take for me to fall asleep but it’s such a horrible process. All the music always make the memory that is buried deep inside me re surges. All the imagines, all the words, all the feelings inside my heart try to come outside and be alive. They convert into tears and make my brain hurts. It just reaches the highest level of functioning during the day.
Night. It’s chaotic for my heart.
I’m lying in bed again tonight, listening to Believe of Cher after dipping myself in John Legend’s sad song all day. I suddenly feel empty inside, like an empty bottle that is thrown to the ocean, floating, submerged, being under the pressure of the wave, the salty sea, the wind, the storm, and even one of the most beautiful things on earth: the sunshine. I miss it, the moment I truly feel excited and so happy because my happiness can be felt, there is someone feels content about it; my achievement can be shared, there is someone who is proud of it; it made me whole in despite of all the fractures I have.
Like that bottle, I’m pulled up and down by the memory Inside my head. Thinking of the one I dated recently, I think of the first moment I walked with him down Khoa Sarn road, passed by all the noisy bars and the drunken people tried to enjoy their holidays by crawling, sitting, cursing and laughing from the bottom of their lung. I can still feel the wind of Bangkok in my hair , the lights from all the big buildings on the street at midnight and the smell of the BBQ from the vendors on the sidewalk. I remember him, sweating, walking fast but with a great smile, trying to protect me from the crowd. I was touched, my heart was; and it is still beating fast thinking of the big man rubbing my head after it hit the Tuk Tuk door. He stepped into my life, nice, unaware, unexpected, and unforgettable. I had no idea I started an interesting, passionate and heart breaking affair for myself  from that moment in downtown Bangkok. Who could ever imagine of meeting someone they love in such place? With someone who is down to earth like me, it’s even more impossible. Maybe because of that, when everything comes to an end, it still embed inside my head like the huge impression I got from the very start. I thought I was found, but then I was wrong. I cried so many night, questioned myself how could I be so rush on something I want to last forever and wondered if I did anything wrong. I was so vulnerable. I saw how depression and sadness triggered the artistic trait inside me. I felt the deep cut I have never got before. I talked to many ppl just to know how lost I was and felt numb afterwards. I woke up every morning to that song of Frank Turner which I used to listen to in Thailand and felt completely horrible inside, I went to bed every night with tears streaming down on my face and the desire of being filled up every single holes on me, not only my body craved to be touched but also my soul was yelling to be healed. I felt unwanted and unneeded more than ever. Even a smell or a voice like his, could make me cry. I was just broken.