Khoa Thy 's Journal: 2024

Time truly flies. It's hard to believe that almost three years have passed since I last drew animated illustrations for my blog posts (the last one was "Kèn hồng Sài Gòn”). Now, here I am, revisiting the old hobby of styling this entry with my own drawings.

Over the past decade, I have created various projects, from intricate and complex to simple ones, all using professional software suites. However, today, I just want to test out a new app on my son's iPad. I installed this free app for my son to freely paint and create animations for his own YouTube channel, which, by the way, now has …1270 subscribers 😆. It's heartwarming for me to see how he is cheerful, sweet, and creative through all the challenges we've faced.

My hand has only partially recovered. I could not hold the pen to write in the same way as before. Therefore, I am grateful for any improvements, and it is a joyous moment and a great blessing to see my hand manage to draw despite its limitations. This time, it is just a simple sketch of a rose, a rose with flaws and stories. The act of creation, whether through writing or drawing, is therapeutic for me, reminding me that many various skills and knowledge I acquired over all those years are still within me, longing for me, retrievable, not completely lost.

Watch me draw the simple rose for this entry

with my partially recovered hand

Song: "Fresh Roses."

So much has happened so far.

The uncertain recovery combined with other severe personal battles and ongoing crises have been draining me to the degree I could never imagine before. During suffocating moments of despair and exhaustion, I remind myself of the precious gift of life. I also remind myself of the blessings in my life, and the people who care and stand by me unwaveringly.

As I have come to learn the hard way, much like in physics, energy cannot be destroyed, it can only be either stored or converted. Repeatedly ignoring, suppressing heartbreak, pain, trauma, suffering can lead to unconscious issues that have detrimental effects and manifest in different ways. The self recovery journey, once optimistic, now has become a giant, towering cliff on me. I have pushed myself to endure too much, forgetting that I am just a gentle soul in need of love and care.

I enjoy positive affirmations, and serene writing. However, when poems come to me, I respect them, and I embrace them. When the emotions are allowed to cry out and transform itself into poetry or artwork, it's like thorns turning into flowers, or teardrops crystallizing into glittering gems.

This poem was written for myself. But if it resonates with your heart, then consider it meant for you as well. Like a flower, may it offer fragrance, and solace to the souls who know to appreciate and cherish it.

Ngày Valentine

Lâu quá rồi
Đến đỗi
Em suýt quên mất vị chocolate
quên mất trái tim đầy
quên mất hoa hồng tím
quên mất ngọn nến đêm
quên mất vòng tay êm
quên mất nụ hôn mềm
quên mất lời nên quên
quên mất có ngày Valentine

Đau quá nhiều
Đến đỗi
Em biết
Valentine vốn chẳng dành cho em
Người chẳng có gì muốn dành cho em
ngoài sự phũ phàng đắng nghét hơn chocolate vụn rỗng,
ngoài hoa hồng, tháng ngày, và cuộc đời vui bên người khác,
ngoài thứ không biết có phải là tình yêu rơi rớt lại,
và kỷ niệm,
và chưa đến nửa nụ cười …

Thật ra thì,
Em chẳng cần gì cả cho ngày Valentine
Chẳng cần chocolate
Chẳng cần hoa hồng thắm
Chẳng cần cánh thiệp mềm
Chẳng cần ánh nến đêm
Chẳng cần vòng tay êm

Chẳng cần người quên em.