100 years are vanishing like snakes.
I place my hand on the cool car glass and then, I'm there, to the time when time didn't vanish.
100 years are vibrating through a hot coil. A circular shape heating the universe or someone's car.
But it is a mere 100 years. I won't even make it to know what's beyond
a pond or a lake.
100 years and my name will be deleted from all financial institutions. The banks will swallow my debts.
"What's left over, is absorbed?" I asked the teller. He nods, "Yes, any amount over what you paid today will go to your next bill."
I look down at the ground. "I see."
I'm being dramatic haha. I'm being dramaticccccc.
Dramathicc.
I'm turning 25 soon and I'M BEING DRAMATHICCC HELPPP.
I feel it you know? Time slipping?!
It's just 25, boo hoo, but dang what the heck. Where has the time gone ever since, well, ever since?!
EVER?!
I'm not panicking, I'm simply feeling it all run like sand. Some ice engineer, idk what that is, told me ice is the best insulator. Well fuck that, because I feel like I'm just CONDUCTING. Heat, all the damn time.
Heat, the moment I got home. The moment I saw that evening skyline, my heart leaped. And I've been running. I've been running my Subaru ragged, all across Houston every day, at the whim of family and needs ever since I got back from Ohio. My poor Bean. That's her racially insensitive name because she's green and kinda a smaller SUV, so Bean felt right. I'm not right too often, so I take pride in this. And also, my favorite word, haha.
Anyways, I got what I wanted, coming home right when I caught momentum. I got my family back. Now, my Sundays aren't filled with a long silence between making the bed and making a quiet breakfast. Now, my Sundays, heck all my mornings, have a thud at my door, from my dog's snout hitting it hard to open it. And once Lucky makes it through, he goes for my toes, nibbles, and licks, and paws on the bed. I don't have a choice and in mere seconds, I am out of bed. I start my day sooo quick. Not checking my phone. Just dog. Oh, Lucky. And honestly, look at me still being scared of being in my own head too long, haha. >-<
Ohio seems like a story that happened to somebody else. Which is the silliest damn thing. Isn't it? Am I a newborn with no sense of object permanence? Just because I'm not in Ohio doesn't mean Ohio doesn't exist. T__T But ohhhh, does Ohio exist. Ohio is fucking real.
It was all, so so so real.
Don't deny it, Ngoc.
It's Sunday night, in my childhood room again. Yes. I'm going to re-decorate this. And YES, of course, I'm going to add in my signature Christmas lights. And yes, I'll make sure all my dresses are color-coded.
25. What does that even mean?! What did 24 even mean!?
I want to take bigger risks this time around. I want to find my people. I want to make tons of new friends in Houston this time around. Slowburn, so be it. I did it at Smith. I did it in Ohio. I can do it again. I want to find my Sangha in Houston. The first time around, when I borrowed my family's car and snooped around like a little biatch -- THAT is a story that happened to somebody else, because poor me, poor thing, was a very tiny miss bean. Now, I'm a bigger miss bean.
BIGGER. BIG. LARGE. YES.
When Bean merged from I-10 to I-45 and hopped right into the city, that skyline, at the tail end of my road trip. Oh my god. That skyline. Is kinda crazy. That was when I knew, like a crossbow to my heart. A cupid KO shot. Dang it. Fuck. Houston is real. Houston is so, so real.
This was the city I left for other dreams. This was the city I left, to do what I thought I could never do.
This was the city I left, like a test I had to pass. No one told me to pass anything. Perhaps, in your eyes, I was a mad woman too stubborn to turn around. 70 mph on the highway. 80 mph in my heart, until I could figure out the next thing.
I once cried in someone's car, feeling the weight of it all. The weight of a yes, that I stubbornly made happen. Stubborn like the dragon I was born as. Stubborn and silly and stupid and crazy and wrong. It was hard to explain and be vulnerable then and confess under the weight of a Houston night, "There's no other choice I have! There's no other choice! It doesn't make sense, that it's me, or you, or anyone, but there's no choice."
Does that make it right? Looking back? Was Ohio right, in the end?
There was never even a hurricane to ruin my life here, yet I left stubbornly. Only to come to Ohio and be afraid to open all personal mail. :I
Even I can't believe it, but I drove the full 20 hours back home. I did! My little sister was my cold noodle passenger princess. Every stop from Ohio to Texas was for Korean food, the search for the best cold noodle. LMAO. LMAOOO. I know. T__T
And you know what? The best cold noodle was in Columbus, Ohio. Of all the places. It was in Ohio.
I joked last time that all roads lead to Ohio. I think I was onto something then.
But fuck.
25. How darling. What a darling number.
I will look back one day and admit that I wish I was 25 and awkward and wrong all the dang time again (gosh, I'm always wrong, about everything), and spontaneous and always perking up when I heard the word "pistachio"-flavored anything and so so so wrong, again and again. Today, as I turn 25, the actual 25, I am bleeding glitter, like Taylor Swift's "Anti-Hero" MV. Exactly that.
That effin' MV is how I actually feel, about all of this.
And gosh, they're getting married!!!!!! TAYVIS IS REAL. End game with a man whose hand envelopes the entire wine glass and who actually is in awe of her and all the big words she uses. How fucking perfect. <3 GOSH. I just want her to be happy already. Can't we all be happy already?
My life has spun into an unexpected pre-ending this August 2025.
I'll have not one, but two jobs. Happening at the same time.
I know. I am doing the crazy shit.
And I'll attend Wednesday meditations like a little miss bean. I'll volunteer my time. I'll take care of Lucky and Dad and Mum. I'll call my friends. I'll write them letters and stamp them with my manatee stamps. I'll get my bad ankle to be a good ankle. I'll play soccer again. I'll do it all. I'll find time to even, like Claudia, who inspires me every single fucking day to be better, do better, my gosh she is such a beautiful creature inside and out, MY GOSH! That's MY FRIEND! MY FUCKING FRIEND OMG!!!! I'll find time to even re-decorate and re-garden my beautiful little home. The very home I keep leaving, again and again. For college. For study abroad. For internships. For Ohio.
Hello home.
As I turn 25, maybe that's all that it is. I'm greeting my home peacefully. No one can take this third job from me.
I promise to take care of the home I have. I promise to protect the home I have. And all the people and beautiful creatures that live in it, except for the rats and roaches. :I And of course, I promise to take good care of myself.
I promise to find people who uplift and inspire me. Who rejuvenate my energy, my spirit, my heart, and my ideas. I promise to never forget my dreams and what they mean. I promise to never forget how it feels to even work tangentially to policymaking. I promise to never forget how it feels to say the word, "Love."
I love Love. I'll always love, Love. I love Love. So much.
May I glance into every mirror and whisper and believe it at the same time that "wow, I am beautiful indeed."
I'm going to escape into bed soon and read the dystopian, sad-ass Handmaid's Tale.
25, and wrong about everything.
25 and dramathic.
