I decide to leave this blog during the summertime. Most of the communication will now be made through this channel:
http://huyanhsyle.livejournal.com/
Bye Tumblr and what you did for me in the past year. I have grown tired of you so we need to part for a while.
Vào những ngày nghỉ lễ, nhất là vào mùa hè nóng nực thế này thì chúng ta không thể lao tới các địa điểm nóng nực như là lẩu ếch bò nướng hay bò nhúng giấm, những món ăn khoái khẩu thường ăn ở vỉa hè vào mùa đông.
Ngoài những quán Hàn Nhật quen thuộc mình muốn list ra một quán Bắc Triều Tiên khá…
This is too much interesting. Friends at home please try it out and tell me how it goes !
pertinent.
(Source: leilockheart)
LMAO
(via leilockheart)
When I was an angsty youngster, mad at the world for making me black and smarter than everyone else, I had one consistent solace in my sea of wrath: sarcasm. At the time, I thought it was the Communication of Gods. It effectively alienated those not in my cabal and made my insecure, pimply…
(via leovis)
On a blistering cold night at Mount Holyoke College
I engage in a complicated chain of thoughts, debating with self whether I will be better off sacrificing a tiny precious amount of slumbering hours for a clumsily pondered piece of rants or savoring this overrated moment of solitude on a windswept hallway with my glorious mood-dampening music on shuffle. Either way, I have been disappointed at my inability to keep up with the writing habit and I wish I could be less of a constant procrastinator in terms of dealing with my personal issues. Things have been building up at a rate that my “whatever” attitudes can no longer sustain. I think I can endure a little longer night for reflection’s sake or whatnots. I have reached the point at which even mere words are plainly adequate to hopefully make this emotional instability subside.
I have missed San Francisco. I’m infatuated with the lovely passers-by grinning at me whenever we exchange millisecond eye contact amidst a spontaneous encounter on the uphill streets. Even though our conversation never lasted for more than one or two minutes, the uplifting atmosphere of such unpredictable and friendly stumble-upon could easily bring joys to my heart. The fruitful outcome of such rendezvous sometimes boiled down to a tiny but lukewarm piece of paper that said “ Thank you for the nice little chat. Can you show me around when I go visit your beautiful country”. I could vividly recall the mild pungency of the sizzling curry sauce that blended in so perfectly with the seemingly irritable taste of lamb, which literally gave me trembles out of utter ecstasy on those chilly nights. Only in San Francisco did I enjoy a homelike ambience of Vietnam with which every city I had been to in this country would feel inferior. I fell in love with every single corner of this hipsterous place that resonated with a liberal spirit no matter how much unadorned and graceless it might appear to be. I’m disheartened to leave a place where I think I definitely belong to while the possibility of coming back is everlastingly an unpromising prospect. I have to break out of my indecisive sentimental bubble and disengage myself from the annoyance of post-break syndrome before I go back to C’town. The recurring question is inevitable:
“Do I really want to go back to the cornfield?”
But on the other side of the emotional spectrum…
I have been thinking a lot about people and myself as I moved here and there on the road. I tried to avoid the bulkiness of overthinking while having too much traveling to fulfill. Giving off the impression of being a worrier would be the last thing I want to do right now. I’m glad that I have enough willpower and calmness to recognize the emotional hazards before walking past the threshold, and gradually maneuver my mind toward a different direction, positive and carefree, albeit a little dispassionate. The storm is yet to be over though I have already seen the silver lining waiting for me over the cloudy sky. And I’m left relieved at its punctuality.
I’m grateful for the laughter and the incredibly positive vibes surrounding me throughout the course of this journey. My thankful thoughts go out to all my best friends, whom, for whatever reasons, suffered from my highly unusual reclusive and irritating behaviors and even those whom I unintentionally missed out on when I’m supposed to do the talking. Please give me time to settle down and clarify my own matters until I have the confidence to start off a decent conversation. Don’t worry about me and rest assured that I love you still.
I know a busy semester is awaiting me with all the funs and plans I vaguely sketched out in my head. I do look forward to conquering the intellectual challenges (burnout) of a reading and writing intensive semester again. I wish you all the best comeback to the academic scenes even if they are tiring and nerve-cracking at times.
Tomorrow I’m leaving this place for the concrete jungle where dreams are made of, where starlight is hindered by the glamour of enormous skyscrapers, the longstanding dynamism adding up to the city’s vibrancy, and streams of hurried people inundating eponymous streets. I will enjoy this last destination to the fullest and keep the melody echoing in my head over and over again:
“When you’re happy like a fool
Let it take you over
When everything is out
You gotta take it in
And this has gotta be a good life”
Good night, world and see you again soon !
A person is not a character. You can’t know their motivation. You can’t cut out the bits that don’t fit just to simplify their story (he wants to get the girl, she wants to get the job, he would rather be right than kind). They won’t follow the script you wrote or serve as a vehicle to prove your point. They might not grow, they might not help you grow and there won’t always be a tidy resolution, or even a vague artistic one.
A person is not spackle. You can’t spread them over your cracks and rough patches, wait for them to set and leave you shiny and perfect and new. Chances are they’re already stretched too thin.
A person is not a prize. You can’t earn or win them by being good enough, fast enough, smart enough or special enough. You can’t keep them on the mantle to remind you of how good, fast, smart or special you were. They do not prove your worth.
A person is not an answer. Not to “why am I unhappy?” Not to “what do I need?” Not to “what is the meaning of life?” Not to “how did I get here?” and not to “where do I go now?”
A person is not a work of art. You can frame them or put them on a pedestal, but they can’t be contained in an observable space. You can shape them and chip away bit by bit at the rough edges of their humanity, until you have the perfect marble angel you always wanted, but it will be just as untouchable and just as dead.
A person is not a rescue dog. You can’t take them home, patiently tolerate their issues and slather them with affection with the expectation that they will one day love you in return.
A person is not sorbet. They might be a great palate cleanser, and leave you feeling lighter than if you went ahead and committed to the ice cream, but a person rarely goes down quite as easily.
A person is not a play. They won’t project their feelings so you can hear them all the way in the back. There are no helpful sound or lighting cues to help you understand them. The clues you find in Act I don’t necessarily foreshadow the ending. Sometimes the gun on the mantle doesn’t go off. Sometimes everyone has a regular, boring evening, goes home and never talks about the gun again.
(Source: http://thoughtcatalog.com/2011/things-a-person-is-not/)
and I’m telling the world !
(Source: fuckyeahamazing)
(via leilockheart)
