it’s you, you who keep wondering about life, asking why it is sometimes black and pink and not somewhere in between. maybe because that mixed color is harder to see.

I.

also you, who spend half a day with forty tabs open, searching for an answer that you desperately need.

the three letters w-h-y keep telling you to go deeper, deeper, to the point of exhaustion. you stop a bit, drink a cup of water, but you can’t help it.

the queries, the keywords, the links…endlessly emerge, luring your eyes through pages. what is the final destination? you look at the sky as if the answer is there.

you try to find wisdom from books.

how will you measure your life?

not from certificates or achievements

but by memories.

the nights come, you sleep with questions lingering in mind. tomorrow will be another, lively day ahead.

II.

also you, who know that when time changes, so do your thoughts.

the reality that you’re worried about, people think it is inevitable. they move on with their lives, maybe you should, too? you are amused, at yourself, and at the people.

your thoughts keep unfolding, you don’t know where they end. people call it overthinking, you call it deep thoughts. by midnight, the thoughts you had in the morning no longer hold.

alone with your thoughts, without phones, lying in bed, you fall asleep together with the silence of the nights.

III.

also you, who spend time writing essays for hours, near a little brown window, in a cafe at the end of the street. blogspot, wordpress, tumblr all carry your nicknames.

you count the readers. one, two. you are so proud of your work. now you have some readers! as years pass by, the number stays the same. you call it quits.

you then join an art class with friends, drawing a classic painting.

with a click to upload a what-you-think-is-beautiful photo, you collect many favorable comments. next time you know your house is full of various paintings. you’re so delighted.

but the same people who used to comment no longer show up, leaving you with some likes from strangers. years later all the paintings are faded in a corner.

you barely remember the dismal past. you gain clarity with words, recall well the smell of the paintings, the excitement of mixing colors together. perhaps, that is more than enough.

IV.

also you, who are curious about how dating works and yearn of being loved. you get an app ready, swiping left and right.

people’s descriptions give you much hope: a long-term relationship, serious talks only, even marriage-potential chats. a virtual dating world is in front of your eyes. you hastily jump into the chats.

a few moments later, you then find yourself lost again, from conversation to conversation. what are the true benchmarks of love? your mind wanders. you don’t have any answers, at all. thoughts pop up: good at cooking, having lots of money, being stylish.

you feel like love is like a book full of unknowns, exciting yet hard to pick the right pages. another time you will try to open that book. for now, let it be.

V.

maybe, just maybe the colors of life are never clearly defined.

black, pink, white, yellow, purple are not a complete list.

there are some colors without names.

that you stumble upon without knowing why.

perhaps the answer is a tiny dot, right there.

 

Thank you for reading!
Huy (https://thinkingfeed.substack.com)