I'm Sorry

"When you lost something, you found something instead"

1st time ever, I'm able to see you in my dream. Your were always going to appear but never before.. I see it again...your voice, your appearance, your watch, your green shirt (as a day care teacher)... everything is still so clear, what my memory remembers about you, remain unchanged.. is it a sign? I'll try, at least I try to find you just like how I do in my dream.. and please...

I'm sorry for being such a silly kid by that time, receiving your special care but I ran away, tried to hide and found the other ways so you wouldn't see me for no reason!

You were more than a mom to me, who gave me that K milk when I was sick. When I grow up I know it was VinamilK with the K capital instead. It tasted nice, even nicer when I was sick. I don't like milk but sometimes I do drink it for this haunted memory in me. When mom picked me up late, you warmed me up with a bread (got chili though), when I fell down, you applied medicine, you spared only me when the whole class was punished and if had to punish me, I still got the least painful one, you gave only me your house phone number and your full name... and my birthday you gave me a big bear which I named Duba...

15 years for being a coward, I always wanted to go back there to find you. But I didn't. That place was where all my best memory of my family, of you which it breaks me into pieces if I see it again.

I was very stupid for so many years, wrote to you during 20 November and received a sorry letter said that my teacher moved before they even started renting. But her handwriting was very alike yours, you know... so I thought...

Please, I have lost something I treasured the most recently, let me find you once again... I'm sorry

The Hand (updated version)

The hand
That pinches me
Hits me
Always be ready to squeeze my pimples with devilish face

The hand
That pinches my nose when another hand is holding a book to read for me
Rubs my head but never fixes after that and laugh because of the look of me
Wipes on my shirts when it's wet or something is sticking on it
And puts pepper or soya sauce into my drinks

The hand
That cheats whenever playing some game
That secretly throws meat to me and steals my mouse
Punches hippo
Throws hippo
And digs his noses

The hand
That pulls my pants
Being noty to block me from going to the toilet
Purposely hits outside to make me run while playing ping pong or badminton
That pulls my ears
And happily picks 'things' in there out for me

The hand
That plucks my legs' hair
Tickles my feet
Unties my shoelaces
As well as throwing my slippers away

But then that hand
Leads me to where I should buy another slippers
And if I've ever almost fell down
It is there to hold me tight

The hand
That covers my eyes
From violent scene, or something I'm scared of
And it silently takes my tears away
While another one is hugging me from shivering

The hand
That can't draw well neither be able to cut straight
Yet it makes for me a handmade birthday card

The hand
That captures my moments
Patiently fixes the kite
Checks if I'm inside
And finally is always silently covering blanket

The hand
That washes dishes
Cleans my fan
That buy Strepsil for noty throat
And hugs me when I am sick and no electric available

The hand
That drives me to happiness
Stops me from danger
And wraps around me just to say goodbye

The hand
That holds umbrella outside
Waiting while it was raining heavily
Keep rubbing me if I was not warm enough
And if I keep sweating due to hot
The hand is there to wipe for me

The hand
That holds my shoulders when I'm riding
Pats on me to signal me to go
Holds the helmet when it's going to fly away
Or holds a cup for me whenever I need to drink
And zips up my jacket if I ever say that I'm cold

The hand

That buys lunch for me

After running under the rain afraid I will be hungry at home

That helps me to apply eye drop

And washes hair for me

That same hand

Peels crabs

Takes vegy

And cook many things for me

The hand
Not hard, not dry, nor strong enough
But soft, fragile, and easy to 'run away'
Yet is the tightest and the warmest hand that I'm proud to have...

Jalur Gemilang

Merahmu bara semangat waja

Putihmu bersih budi pekerti

Kuning berdaulat payung negara

Biru perpaduan kami semua

Puncak dunia telah kau tawan

Lautan luas telah kau redah

Membawa semangat jiwa merdeka

Semarak jaya kami warganya

Empat belas melintang jalurnya

Semua negeri dalam Malaysia

Satu suary satu semangat

Itu sumpah warga berdaulat

Jalur gemilang... di bawah naunganmu

Jalur gemilang... kami semua bersatu

Perpaduan ketaatan

Amalan murni rakyat Malaysia

Jalur gemilang... megah kami terasa

Jalur gemilang... kibarkanlah wawasan

Merah putih biru kuning

Jalur semangat kami semua

Berkibarlah

Berkibarlah

berkibarlah

Jalur gemilang

Memory of 31 August 1957

No idea what the song sings T.T but I'm sure every Malaysian should be very proud of

Been here for 4 years, I'm 1/5 Malaysian with the age of 21 haha

After coming back from Singapore, I still prefer Malaysia as my 2nd country

Though the language is still a barrier but it is what makes Malaysia special

Better than you don't even have your own language for your own country

Happy Merdeka! And thank you to all of you who helped me out with my feature writing of this topic!

Tiếng Việt và người Việt Nam

Tiếng Việt - công cụ tạo nên người Việt Nam bên cạnh phẩm chất, sự nghèo đói, bản sắc dân tộc và thành tích trong lịch sử chiến tranh. Nói chung, người Việt Nam chỉ vì những điều kể trên thôi cũng nên ít nhất tự 1 lần cảm thấy kiêu hãnh 'Tôi là người Việt Nam'.

Tiếng Việt - 1 nghệ thuật trộn lẫn giữa hệ thống chữ phổ thông và các thanh dấu tạo nên ngôn ngữ. Trên thế giới, hầu hết hệ thống ngôn ngữ 1 là hệ thống chữ phổ thông, 2 là hệ thống chữ tượng hình. Tiếng Việt đứng ở vị trí 1.5 tức là vừa phổ thông vừa được tô thêm 1 vài thanh dấu nhỏ tạo nên sự khác biệt.

Nhờ có Tiếng Việt, như những đất nước khác, người Việt Nam xứng đáng tự hào vì họ có 1 ngôn ngữ khác với tiếng Anh

Ấy vậy mà...

Người Việt Nam tuy trong tâm trí không thể nào từ bỏ được Tiếng Việt nhưng trên giấy tờ, trên đất nước đang ở, Tiếng Việt còn đó, nhưng chữ Việt Nam mờ dần, rồi nước mưa trộn lẫn nước mắt rơi ướt, họ đổi giấy mới, bút mới, mực mới, viết 1 chữ mới...

Nhờ có Tiếng Việt, chữ Việt Nam không thể bị thay thế nhưng chữ Việt Nam bị chối bỏ đến mức tàn nhẫn...

Câu chuyện bắt đầu từ thói quen 'đúng là Việt Nam' của các cô cậu, chú, bác, dì mỗi lần có điều bức xúc là buột miệng hô lên. Nói như vậy hẳn đất nước khác họ cũng sẽ hô lên 'đúng là X', 'đúng là Y' nhưng không phải cùng 1 sự việc mà thôi. Người Việt Nam có thói quen thấy gì sai, phiền phức và xấu hổ là đổ lỗi cho 2 chữ Việt Nam vô tội mà những người Việt Nam như tôi cũng thấy cay đắng. Bởi vì tôi cũng như vậy.

Câu chuyện tiếp tục khi người Việt Nam bước ra khỏi đất nước của mình. Tấm hộ chiếu là điều đầu tiên rạng ngời có được. Là công cụ tự hào chứng minh tôi là người Việt Nam ở đất nước khác. Tôi cầm, tôi khoe với các bạn cùng trang lứa. Tôi giữ, tôi nâng niu, tôi gửi đi để mong nhận được sự chấp thuận để du lịch ở 1 nước khác. Bỗng dưng tôi vội cất vào, tôi ghìm lại, và tôi biết lý do vì tôi là người Việt Nam. Tôi nuốt, nuốt thật nhanh để giọng nói không lạc điệu, tôi nuốt nỗi cay đắng của mình, tôi nuốt chữ Việt Nam trong tôi, nhưng tôi không bao giờ có thể nuốt được Tiếng Việt...

1 ngày nào đó, chữ 'Việt Nam' trong từng mỗi người sẽ chết và thay vào đó là 4 chữ 'thuận tiện', 'giàu sang', đổi mới', và 'phát triển'

Tại thời điểm đó, chỉ cảm thấy mỉa mai thay, 1 điều gần như không thay đổi, họ vẫn sử dụng Tiếng Việt...

The Hand (updated version)

The hand
That pinches me
Hits me
Always be ready to squeeze my pimples with devilish face

The hand
That pinches my nose when another hand is holding a book to read for me
Rubs my head but never fixes after that and laugh because of the look of me
Wipes on my shirts when it's wet or something is sticking on it
And puts pepper or soya sauce into my drinks

The hand
That cheats whenever playing some game
That secretly throws meat to me and steals my mouse
Punches hippo
Throws hippo
And digs his noses

The hand
That pulls my pants
Being noty to block me from going to the toilet
Purposely hits outside to make me run while playing ping pong or badminton
That pulls my ears
And happily picks 'things' in there out for me

The hand
That plucks my legs' hair
Tickles my feet
Unties my shoelaces
As well as throwing my slippers away

But then that hand
Leads me to where I should buy another slippers
And if I've ever almost fell down
It is there to hold me tight

The hand
That covers my eyes
From violent scene, or something I'm scared of
And it silently takes my tears away
While another one is hugging me from shivering

The hand
That can't draw well neither be able to cut straight
Yet it makes for me a handmade birthday card

The hand
That captures my moments
Patiently fixes the kite
Checks if I'm inside
And finally is always silently covering blanket

The hand
That washes dishes
Cleans my fan
That buy Strepsil for noty throat
And hugs me when I am sick and no electric available

The hand
That drives me to happiness
Stops me from danger
And wraps around me just to say goodbye

The hand
That holds umbrella outside
Waiting while it was raining heavily
Keep rubbing me if I was not warm enough
And if I keep sweating due to hot
The hand is there to wipe for me

The hand
That holds my shoulders when I'm riding
Pats on me to signal me to go
Holds the helmet when it's going to fly away
Or holds a cup for me whenever I need to drink
And zips up my jacket if I ever say that I'm cold

The hand
Not hard, not dry, nor strong enough
But soft, fragile, and easy to 'run away'
Yet is the tightest and the warmest hand that I'm proud to have...