A short attempt at fictional romance.

Me.

It never ceased surprising me how you resemble exactly one of my ever drawing. Resonated so often to me the engrossing wonder of where have you been all my life. I hesitated over the pondering of trueness yet could help no longer resisting the magnetism to you. Humbling "Patience" once in a while, I believe in fate who decides.

You.

Warmed me. Touched me. Were you ever surprised to have found me like how taken I felt to have missed and spotted you among the crowd?

Us.

...This may be worth more than trillions else...

05.06.2010.

A dash of surprise

The good feeling of rightness

Plenty of warmth

A large pinch of fun

Doses of romance

Laid on thin layers of patience

Baked with fragrance in love.

She is in a relationship with him.

When a man comes with the promise of not just a shoulder but as well a future is when her set on brightening, the girl unfolds her apron and sorts her way. Filled were fears or puzzle. Now love transforms loss to power, beautifies procrastination to dreams. The path of love which laid fancified now searches its way to firmness of warmth. Will love survive in its stability? Or through ups and downs shall it blossom? Rightness strolling on, lovers embark on a journey whose alley paints trust and a patient lust for understanding. Till a day unreal, rejoices remain.

23.08.2010. [For once you were not around and I missed you.]

The route once filled with spontaneous freedom now feels so empty and sorrowed. It has been the habit of having someone always by side that makes now loneness so unbearable. Or maybe from deciphering none a rational reason, understanding is hard to form.

14.09.2010.

I love you.

[to be continued]

Toni Morrison through her Bluest Eyes and Paradise

Toni Morrison is the winning author of "The Bluest Eyes", "Paradise", "Beloved", and "Jazz", etc. All women she created ran away. She said somewhere that all of her stories revolved around love, either the lust for love or the loss of love. Once I wondered who Morrison was to write with such negligence the pains so extreme and clear. Then I came to the conclusion she is a strong woman, strong enough to face the pains and not cry.

Despising not the fatalism of the main characters startled the usual optimism in me though now totally justifiable it felt when one was strangled amidst finds for the rooted felon. Blame the women not when they are fragile and futile. Blame the society who once had sunk in depth in despondency and fought their way out? The exact individuals who fought against discrimination of their being different now fear difference themselves. The black people built their own village, ideally which would be equality paradise. Yet it never would be. Nature had always to file for discrimination where ones retreated safe and sound in own horizons of betterness and others would be treated as the different, dangerous. Pecola, a little girl at mere 14, lived purely and rejoiced heartily at the simplest happiness of drinking out of her favorite cup, of having a friend. Eventually she was abused by her father, despised by her own mother for being different.

I love the jazzy rhythm in Toni Morrison's. The lines traversed through lenses of colors. On the last scenes of "Paradise", I thought I could see the figures dancing on the sands. For several times, condemned women were dancing in the rain, rejoicing and singing. Wiped off momentarily were whatever future beholds or past contains. The usual reader me accepts none future ignorance nor past rejection. Yet the indispensability of melancholy Morrison so well featured defeated all natural impulses to blame. Left were mere sourness and lament in face of suffer.

That's how will be remembered Toni Morrison and the depth of her voice.

For my younger sister.

27.07.2010.

About changes, things are at times so good as they are that you fear for changes. The fact is amongst 10 days side by side despite hundreds of days apart, bred were both beloved familiarity and realization of indispensable growth. She, the little baby who stayed with me day and night, described me secretly in her essays on the person she loves, laughed loudly only with me, cried at the doors waiting for me, played games only we played with me, believed in Santa Claus because of me all the way till the age of 10, teared on parting me and cheered whenever with me, is now 16, IT savvy, can cook and knows how to wash dishes. I looked at her without realizing she has grown up and has learnt to manage things on her own, yet on looking around, her friends are now big boys and girls. So is she the little girl. Time after time I thought of her like a seed I grew. Now in the season greeting where the seed blooms, I was a little confused for a change.

Waiting is bad.

Worst is the evil of procrastination. Mind the evil where seemingly you warmly get wrapped in the ignorance of duties yet robbed beyond awareness of own powers. Remove your earplugs blocking the hasty sound of time because you see elapsing with time too are the beautiful chances born with you deserved by you. So waste those no more in the fake luxury of wait. Grasp desires with confidence.

I hereby remind myself to stop the wait. Do what I need to do.

Poached eggs with buttered mushroom and brown sauce (Trứng trần kiểu Pháp với nấm xào bơ và sốt nâu)

Ingredients (serves 2):
- 4 small to medium fresh eggs
- 200g button mushrooms, thinly slice both the roots and caps
- 1/2 small yellow onion, thinly sliced
- 100g butter
- 1l water and 5 tbsp vinegar
- 100ml red wine
- 1/2 tbsp multi-purpose flour (or tapica flour or corn flour)
- Salt and pepper to taste

Procedure:
- Place water and vinegar in a non-sticky pot, heat until the water almost boils, keep the water on the lowest heat possible. Do not let the water to boil at all. Add 1 egg (maximum 2 eggs) at a time in the pot). Slant the pot a bit so that the egg white is well distributed around the egg yolk. Let the water simmer but not boil. Cover the pot, turn off the fire. Keep for 3-5 minutes.
- At the same time, sweat sliced mushrooms with 50g butter for 5 to 10 minutes. Add salt to taste. Serve cooked mushrooms on 2 separate plates, keep the sauce in a bowl.
- Mix the sauce (of around 100ml) with 100ml red wine and 1/2 tbsp flour. Stir-fry sliced onions with 30ml butter, then add the sauce mixture and cook over low heat till the sauce reaches thickness. Add salt and pepper to taste.
- Take out and place the eggs over mushrooms. Leave 10g butter over the eggs on each plate. Pour the brown sauce with onions on top. Add fine black pepper and serve with butter-fried bread and boiled long bean with browned butter sauce.