An Binh on Life My world, minimalising …

Dịu dàng quá, dịu dàng không chịu nổi …

Got this piece of writing from Black Bear's blog and can't help bringing it here so that everybody can read. This, indeed, brings back the memory of an old dark world that I'm used to be in. Will the sun shine on this school of flower? You tell me
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A very old entry.

18.04.02
Last night I was looking at Simon's photos when a strange feeling came over me; I felt as though I had been wasting a lot, a lot of time~~ and even more of dreams and intentions... Unfulfilled... That's the word. I have been walking without aim through some very sad years of my life, yet which I find rather meaningless, towards a vague destination - almost out of reach. Everything has always seemed a little odd, out of place, temporary and unstable. Sometimes I don't even know where exactly I belong, who I want to hang out with, or who I want to become. Sometimes everyone suddenly becomes strangers overnight. Sometimes I am surprised by my own voice and acts. I could only call this a sense of 'detachment'. However, I do know that I am much bound to this world, being easily struck by its impressive landscapes, sounds and images. Remember the day we went to Gareth's place, my old friends? We planted some pansies ~ those little colorful flowers ~ and had lunch together in the newly-painted house. Afterwards, we students headed out for a walk towards a lake. Just at the moment when I was touched by the strong cold wind and the very soft, almost velvety grass, I knew that I had been carried away. Simon used to say, 'I enjoy my ability to get away from others'. I have never achieved such ability. Or is it because I'm afraid of being lonely? The lake with little curling waves...the shimmering grass above the water...the little cactus forests whispering under my feet and those fragile feathers left by some birds on the banks...all made my heart want to jump out of my chest and take a breath of joy! Gareth called these feathers 'bird flowers'. I had never heard such a poetic comparison before! Well-done, the man from Africa! Thank you for bringing us to such a heavenly place of peace and tranquility. Everything blended together in harmony to serve as a caressing hand or a sweet lullaby so as to calm some bewildered soul.

So far, I've made several trips to Lyttleton Harbor, Port Hills, Willow Banks, Quail Island, Ripapa Island, Banks Peninsula, the Peaks, etc. How I love those meadows that I could only see in some movies before (Little House on the Prairie, Black Beauty...) They bring me such a feeling of idleness, aimlessness but engage me deeply in meditation. They will hum a song and ask me this question: ~Where do you want to go, my girl? ~What do you hope to find after crossing this ocean of grass? I say ~I don't know, I will just have to go and see. I also love the uneasy feeling, almost like a sense of terror, when I heard the winds sweeping across endless bushes on stretching hills. It sounds like the winds that once haunted whoever on 'Wuthering Heights'. And like someone has said, 'Beauty is terror. Whatever we call beautiful, we quiver before it' (The Secret History - Donna Tart). These mighty winds remind people of hatred and love, of death and life, of unfulfilled dreams and haunting memories. I would like to retain some of these precious moments, not by photos or paintings, then by some thoughts that have ever swayed themselves a little bit in my soul.

Runaway train (should) never comes back

(Place holder)So either u are the train or the one who let it runaway. Watch' out
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"Runaway Train" by Soul Asylum

Call you up in the middle of the night
Like a firefly without a light
You were there like a slow torch burning
I was a key that could use a little turning

Runaway train never comin' back
Runaway train tearin' up the track
Runaway train burnin' in my veins
Runaway but it always seems the same