A season to love

I hate endless summer days
the way I hate too sweet sweets
the way I once tasted bitter liquor on your lips
and have to make myself a drunk out of it

Too much expectations, too much hope,
make tonight a slippery sloppy slope.
I rather it be gloomy forever
than bright up once, then doomed together.

I crave a straight road with neon lights
to forget about your smiles, your eyes.
But I know I just won't leave
I need to be here for whatever you need.

I shall compare you to summer's day
but I am not lovely or temperate.
Just another ex lover who's desperate
In a season that I love to hate

Let the rain pours, let my drinks be poured,
I want to feel you to my core.
I have grown to be so fond of winter
As I am too fond of you getting colder.

I want to

Let me touch your voice
Let me drink your anger
Let me smell your desire
Let me comb your soul

One day

One day I will be
Just a forgotten memory.
But I will be your
forgotten memory.

Don't forget to forget


A love letter

Sometimes you have to give in to your animalistic side

In Vietnamese, we call human "con người". "Con" is a classifier word for animals, and "người" means mankind. That's how I was raised, to believe that we have two separate parts in each and single one of us. Always, when I met someone new for the first time, I wonder if they are more of an animal or of a human, and then I wonder if that thought come my animalistic side or my human side.

Mankind alone is complicated enough. We talk, but it means next to nothing. We act, and that doesn't count either. Communications are all what we desire and do, but there are just an ungodly amount of unspoken messages that may or may never be understood.

And because we are aware that we are complicated, we became rather too cautious. Why anything at all when sometimes it means nothing to one but everything to another but still, nothing like what you want at all?

But don't you think our animal side needs to howl too?

Do you ever crave a single raw moment, do you ever want to hunt, do you ever want to bite?

Two of them, sitting together, day by day. Knee always lightly touched. Hearts always beat a little too fast. It is so obvious that something has been going on for awhile, but nothing is ever going to happen too soon too.

Imagine a world when you want it, you can just simply said "I want you to suck my dick" and none of the offend will be taken, full message of pure desire received and done.

Would you do it if you get exactly what you asked for, and if not, all is good? You wouldn't be judged, you will just be heard?

I would.

So now, why are you ruining your own chance of an amazing thing, which is your dick being sucked, just because you are a little too human?


To wake up the animal inside of someone, you need to howl first.

It is there, it just need a little "help" to be able to stand up straight on it's own.

If you want me, tell me to suck your dick. Let's go on a hunt for each other's flesh, and if the human in you can't figure out what to do next, at least he would be better confused with a full stomach.


I'm a drunk, but I am a lovable drunk

There was a point in my life, a long time ago, when people asked me "how do you find the strength to work so hard?" and "what drives you?", I answered with "love".

 I love my job, I love my art, and I will do anything and everything for it. I think you should too, find something that is so amazing for you that you will lose countless sleeps chasing your dream.

There was also a tiny voice inside me that screams "nope, you just want to be a dignified asshole"

I am way pass that now. I no longer struggles in "finding myself", as they say. I don't feel like I don't belong anymore, I know I don't. Why even try, why even feel, let's just take a shot and in this drunken moment we can all pretend to love each other and it's good enough for me.

I used to complain that when I dance, friends tell me to go back to play the piano, you are not one of us. I work in fashion, and they tell me I am just a hood rat from a shitty ass background that is not worthy. Crazy enough to be locked up, but not crazy enough to be kept longer than a month, and safe to release back to society but still not equipped to function, corrupted under the most minor thing in realm of human society. That kind of thing.

I had big dreams and I got laugh at all the time,

Now I'm here and I have proven to be able to achieve everything I say, I get a free pass at life.

Show up high as fuck to a meeting? that's fine, we know you can do it later, you are a natural. Show up with bleeding cuts at a photoshoot? we know you are a true hero, a fucking inspiration so don't worry it brings you personality. Acting out, puking, disappear for days at a time? Come back with a brand new book and we will let it slide. Fucked up? Made a tshirt that said "time to fuck up" and sell it well. sad sells.

Everything destructive, doesn't matter anymore, because I have been classified into the "insane artist" category, and now killing myself slowly is being viewed as a necessity, as long as nobody have to take care of the aftermath.

Yeah I love my art. But I can't lie, one of the big reason I do it it's because I want to do drugs and if I don't tell you my drugs is necessary to my art which benefits you greatly, are you sure you are open to hear me talk about it?

I am so fun, I am so strong, bla bla bla. I can't be bothered. I just want to get wasted, that's all I want.

Now is my chance to laugh at all of you, for telling me this life I am living in just because I have not succeeded in killing myself yet, is beautiful and aesthetic.

It is truly an art to strike for that perfect balance between psycho crazy ass bitch and regular person me. I do drugs not because I am sad, and I am sad not because I do drugs. Can not let anyone blame my precious pills for my problem, no no, they are my savior.

The thing that contributes the most to my leeway of everything is that I am alone. Nobody got to deal with my hangover, nobody has to see me slide myself open. Yes, you see it, and you want to help, but you can't, so what can you do right? Right. Don't worry I am the fun one I am not your regular miserable mentally ill person.

Schizophrenia? Eating disorder? Victim of abuse? Everything is true, but I won't lie it makes people understand and make excuses for my bad bad bad decisions, and I am fucking happy because of it.

I am abusing the shit out of things that used to abuse me, and revenge is so, so sweet.

How did I get to where I am? A junkie got to do what junkie got to do.