Looking up high school friends on IG for the first time in years and secretly sobbing inside over childhood memories... 

One of the pp that I recognized was Minh Hoang. I stared at him and his gf in a tiny square box and I thought to myself "Wow... that skawny kid in the badminton team I used to play with has grown into a fine young man with dreams and goals and found himself a person he loves." And the maturity felt in that thought overwhelms me like an enormous waterfall of 12 years of flashbacks striking me from top to bottom. "How many things can happen to a person in 12 years?..." - I asked myself. "How many things has my skawny childhood friend has gone through to be where he is right now?" I would love to listen. But.. that's too much to listen. Too much to know.

Too many things happen in 12 years.

When I was much younger, my mother once told me that I'm a nostalgic person. I didnt quite understand what she meant until I'm in my 20s, on a saturday night,  hiding under a blanket.

And I realized that, over the past 8 years, Im nostalgic for the piece of me that I have left behind. 

There is just something about the short interval before dawn that makes me sentimental. It feels like I am the only one awake in a world that is still asleep. Everything I do, every emotion I feel are neither observed nor remembered. There is no trace of me anywhere, Im forgotten before time even starts ticking

People, I realize, are layers and layers of secrets that are silently collected through the years. Most of the time I dont understand them the same way they understand themselves, because they see the world through filters of their untold stories. And I see the world through filters of my owns. All I can do is giving my best not to understand, but to accept them. 

"I dont know you as well as you know yourself. I dont understand your perspectives and reasons as much as you understand them. I dont see what you see or feel what you feel. But because you opened up to me, you were honest to me, so I ll try to accept you for whoever you are. Not like we ll be bbf or anything, but I can try to accept you for all that you are." 

I, too, want to hear to those words in return, as much as I practice to say them.

It doesnt feel right to judge someone who opens up to us... or who are honest about themselves to us... 

So far I have only truly felt those words from one person: myself.

It took me a long long time to accept myself... and I am still working on it every day.

Out of everything, acceptance of regrets is a heartbreaking process.

Death or Suffering.

I cant sleep.

I closed my eyes for an hour and thousands trains of thoughts kept running in my head. 

I feel hopeless about the future suffering of everyone.

I feel powerless.

I feel insignificant.

I feel unloved and unaccepted.

I feel hatred.

I feel hurt.

Im feeling everything that I dont deserve to feel.

...

I dont deserve such cruel feeling.

...

But I was the one who chose it in the beginning...

I chose it.

I climbed a 300 story tower, dangling on the edge.

waiting for people to push me down...

But they wont have to kill me... They wont have to hurt me.

They wont have to...

But they will.

They will.

Then I'll wish I die instead.

I tried to sleep but I couldn't stop the tears. 

I am the child you have loved and raised for 23 years, whom you don't accept. 

Tomorrow if my skin turns green, my arms are lost, my eyes triple their size, will that change the person I have always been all these times? 

...

Will it change the child you have loved and raised...

The child whom you don't accept...

God is not hateful.. God is kind.