sometimes

i wonder
if love
will ever touch my lips.

---

For the past two months, some crazy adventures, mishaps, and travelin' been occuring. Writing has been a quick pastime as other things distract me. I like to carry post-its with me, I guess, when I feel the urge to write something. (I do have this secret ongoing tendency to write thinking its for my auto-biography, or that someone will someday read it).
maybe its my post-it diaries, much of it may not make sense. grammar and spelling horrible. but that's what happens when you scribble your thoughts as quickly as you can so you won't forget them.


Here's a compilation of it.

At the age of 22 I knew that I was going to die unhappy. And I was okay with that. As long as I had lived.

This was the language I was meant to speak. Suspended between languages my existence was reliant on faded memories clinging to what it could. It survived through a flush of stubborn diction and syntax that would never leave the tongue of my mother. traveling through time and still moments in time, they remain. I trace it on lines, but can never get it right. it suspends itself somewhere and sometimes we stumble upon it. Sometimes I discover it. Sometimes I seek it. The question as to whether it is ever found is a whole other matter.

Vietnam has its way with me. I've been trying to put my finger on it. Dancing between cities and scenes. It's like falling in love blind. You can't really see it. But you know it. You know that you've fallen for something and something draws you to that person.

Small city mind meets metropolitan thoughts. the (something unreadable) of my mother and family make sense. linear is the way to go b/c A to B to C is what is seen. but if you switch it let's say C to B to A or A to C to B let's say B takes a long time to get to A and somehow M or X or T get into the picture, life becomes different from what our minds are trained to think. I never want life to be straight alphabet.

It took a war, a boat ride, random times of escape for me to think the way I am today. For English to slip off my tongue like water. For my mind to be lost in the motherland is a treat.  or maybe something my mind has desired for a long time. since if circumstances were different I may not be born at all. maybe its settling in this strange dream that I may have been a different person but rather I wouldn't have it any other way but to be myself and who I am right now. It's nice thought to think you could of been someone else. but anything could be said. If my mom had not put a radio in her room. if she had not been a seamstress. if i had lived in a big city. I may have been someone else. My favorite color might of been pink. I could of been taller. Who the fuck knows.