My introvert

Why are they not like you?

What makes you that special?

What makes you the greatest?

They are kind

They are nice

They said the right words

They said a lot of things

Nice ones

They talk and talk

I look at them

I am not supposed to compare

I still can’t help myself

I wish I can pretend

I appreciate them

Their laughs are okay

Their gazes are okay

Why are you so special?

You say nothing

One word of yours means the world

Comes to me when I least expect

I would quit everything

For one word of yours

Only one word of yours

What makes you the greatest?

My introvert


“And so they parted, she to the east, and he to the west” (The Elephant Vanishes – Haruki Murakami)

Trying to be close to someone is one of the most difficult things to experience for oneself. At some point the more I try to create closeness, the larger the distance between me and the person will be. The efforts are useless and vain. If efforts there were to be. It is like running without being able to move forward and to have the feeling that my feet could not even be lifted of the ground. It is like staring at a strong stream of water from above, but somehow your eyes  functioning in a slower movement than the water. Impossible to follow the stream. It is like dropping an object in the waterfall, watching it flowing away, increasingly further and further. With a feeling of absolute impotence.

Trying to be close to someone when the relationship does not flow is frustrating and painful. Reaching out in words when words are just words. They never carry any truth, yet I still have to use them. Reaching out in acts. Acts are more meaningful than words. But acts are meant to be received. Reaching out in emptiness when the other person is a ghost. The shadow of him is the only thing I can follow. This same shadow surrounded by secrets and darkness. My words and acts then resonate with no echo.

Trying to be close to someone sometimes is like walking without moving, speaking with no sound, singing with no notes and slowly becoming a ghost myself.  That is when feelings go south. Seeing myself digging a ditch and burying all memories left. And his ghost waving at me goodbye.

The perfect you

“A certain type of perfection can only be realized through a limitless accumulation of the imperfect.” (Kafka on the Shore – Haruki Murakami)

They talk more than you

They use good words

That you can never even imagine

They are better in acting

In pretending

In opening their hearts very soon

They give more of their time

I got addicted

To their games

To their words

On my way they are everywhere

With them I almost lost my soul

Whirlwind of my mind

Their words crushed my heart

You are discreet

You use simple words

You never use language to play with feelings

You are not afraid to be true

You stand alone

Majestic and imperial

I always got the straight answer from you

Their words might be more poetic than yours

Their abundant words

You are more silent and modest

But you are so beautifully true

Like a lotus blossom

For its pureness and perfection

Imperfection in others

Perfection in you

Never trying to fool me

How I understand songs

Today I am sick and stay in bed. Nothing serious. A cold with a strong headache and a bad sore throat.

I accidentally discovered Koos du Plessis, a South African songwriter and singer and really like his songs. There is something with me about songs in a language I could not understand. When we don’t understand the lyrics, we just listen to the sound of each word, we just need to let each note and melody get into us. With no resistance. We can imagine whatever comes to us with the melody. It could be a love song, a song about politics, a song about home and kids. I like the idea that I don’t understand the lyrics. It is like when we meet someone who does not speak our language, we will then have to communicate with this person in a different way, we will have to invent another kind of language, we will observe more. The eyes, the body attitude, anything else would be more important than the language itself and the words. I feel the same with a song I first don’t understand.

I listened to this song three times on the row. It became so familiar that at some point, I was sure I would get the meaning of the song somehow. After the third time, I checked the lyrics.

Live in an endless night, I cried: “Where are you?”
Move your dark curtain open, star, fire me.

I did the same thing with HIM. I don’t always understand him. But I don’t ask questions. I just want to connect with him through a different way. Not always in words. But something we can both feel in the air, between the clouds, in spite of the geographical distance between us. I just want him to become so familiar to me like this song after a while.

The definition of the verb “to miss”

Today in a letter of my aunt from Nashville, she shared with me the meanings of two verbs in Vietnamese: “to lack” and “to miss”. In English the definition of “to miss” is “to discover or to feel the absence“. In Vietnamese, these two verbs hide a causal relationship. “I miss because I lack”. There is also a common sentence stating something like “We only miss something which is not yet complete”.

It makes me think. I miss him. However I don’t consider myself as incomplete. I miss him. So much. And I am so complete. Already.

It is possible that I misunderstood the Vietnamese language’s fineness.

I miss him. Me being a whole.

Looking for softer words

“You are always on my mind – I think of you all the time – I want to hold you in my arms each day – I miss you – Badly – Too much – I long for you hours after hours…..”

Too strong, too soon ?

Looking for other words and expressions

Softer, with more restraint

Holding back feelings

Containing overflowing emotions

“You are on my mind – I think of you – I want to hold you in my arms – I miss you – I long for you …..”

Deleting the adverbs

Hiding feelings

Looking for other substitutes of love

Trying hard


Everything in me right now

Is like pink, red, white and blue confetti

Flying in the air

Delightful and easy than words

“You are on my mind – I think of you – I want to hold you in my arms – I miss you – I long for you …..”

Confetti in the air

Some of them gracefully brushing your shoulders





Playing with vocabulary

“For a certain kind of person, love begins from something tiny or silly.
From something like that or it doesn’t begin at all.” (Norvegian Wood – Haruki Murakami)

I talk about landscapes, mountains, lakes, skies and trees.

I talk about oceans, seas and waves.

I talk about music, life and dreams.

I make detours with words

But it all comes to one easy word



Exhaustion seems to decide to terminate me tonight

My forehead is burning

I feel febrile

Seems like a slight fever and cold eating into my body

My head hurts

Messy thoughts as usual

I feel goosebumps all over my skin

Lack of sleeps for days

Then finally your words arrive

Irregular heartbeats

I feel febrile

My body is warm

Is it fever or the effect of your words?

I feel joy

My body is warmer

I can’t distinguish fever from joy

In my delirious thoughts

I just know that I like your words

And the way they make me feel

I slowly fall asleep

With your words

Like a very smooth lullaby

Cooling the fever and heating up the joy

I can’t distinguish anything

I feel febrile

I just know that I like your words

What you should know by now

Yesterday I sent you some roses.

You asked if it was a crepuscular love declaration or it just stood symbolically for something nice and beautiful.

I answered it was both.

You thought it was spontaneous and meaningful.

What I will never say out loud but you should know by now:

“There are no words for you which are not meaningful. There are no gestures for you which are not imprints of love.”


Yesterday we talked about religion and reincarnation.

I said that my current life was so hectic that I would love to reincarnate into a small and slow insect. I thought of an ant or a snail.

You wished you could be some flying animals.

You thought of an eagle because eagles are proud.

Or a heron because herons are noble.

Or a swan for its elegance.

What I will never say out loud but you should know by now:

“Be an eagle and all eagles become proud. Be a heron and they become noble. Be a swan and all swans will be elegant. You carry for them pride, nobleness and elegance. It’s not the other way around. Don’t you get it?”


Yesterday we agreed that we agreed on nothing.

You said no when I said yes.

You said black when I said white.

If I asked, you did not give.

If you asked, I refused to cede.

You asked if it really mattered and if we should agree on everything.

What I will never say out loud but you should know by now:

“We don’t need to agree on everything as we speak the same language. If the world ever became a desert place with only one language left to communicate, it would be ours. If all around us extinct, one certainty would stay: our communications in a language which are made of us.”