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It's been four nights in a row I have slept with the whistle of winds grazing past my ears and the rumble caused by friction between the train and the railways. This fifth night, after coming and leaving HCMC on a daily basis, again I'm moving back to Phan Rang; this time on a contractual 7 seat gray Mercedes Ben - but that's not the end of the story yet. I'll get on a train again tomorrow, after which I'll fly to Thailand, after which I'll be back and have less than 2 days to pack and travel back to CR - back to school, yeah. Well, that's the plan. For now the good thing is that I'll have one night at home before the next trip - lying flat on my king size bed, falling asleep, and waking up realizing I'm still in the same city as I was the night before.

And there are sis and granny, back from Los Angeles.

I asked sis if I should adopt one of my girlfriend's hairstyle, and to my surprise, she said "Don't ever!" Why, I asked. And she answered : teachers in school have also talk about this a lot, and they don't want students to have that hairstyle. But why? Cause you'll look like a playgirl.

So, I thought, what's wrong with you having your favorite hairstyle? Why are the good guys always the traditional and ordinary ones? What's wrong with making yourself look better?

Stupid people, what matters is what's under the hair, not the hair itself. And not everything is bilateral. Maybe playgirls favor that hairstyle, but not the other way around. Not everyone favoring that hairstyle is a playgirl.

Well, maybe I have learned a couple of things.

Being in a UWC has taught me never to judge people basing on their races, nationalities or cultures. Studying US college students has taught me never to judge people basing on how many nights they have stayed home not attending any party, or how many beers they can drink, or whether they have a boyfriend or not. My schoolmates have taught me never to judge people basing on what they wear. And something, I don't really remember, taught me never to judge people basing on their occupation (maybe unless they're a murderer or a drug trader). And I'm not only talking about the superior or inferior side of these criteria. I'm talking about both of them, and that's why I said: no judgment.I won't look down on you if I see you dressing like a peasant from 200 years ago. I won't look down/up on you either, if I see you in eccentric colors, with big Converse shoes, goth style, over-cared nails, or whatsoever. I basically think nothing (maybe except for the fact that now I have some ideas about your preferences).

When hearing this, people often ask me: so how do you judge people? Just by who they really are?

But who people really are? If I ask you who you are, what will you say? Won't you say that you're American? Won't you say that you're your parents' son? Or you're a college student? Or you're a lawyer? Or you're a teacher?

And don't you expect me to judge you basing on these information you provided?

But after all, there's this line from a song called "Ammonia Avenue" : And who are we to justify?

I don't really see the answer, but maybe it's just me. My thought is: we have no right to justify. People become what they want to be. Do as they please. Although this is not always true, that's what all of us strive to achieve (to become what we want to be and to do as we please).

Who created standards?

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Brakes are for stopping, right? You are riding fast. You pull the brake (deliberately or accidentally), and your bike slows down and comes to a halt. In other words, it obstructs your swift and free movements, decelerates your velocity. It's there to restrict your speedy greed.

But is it so? Today (one period of 24 hours in a tiresome, 3 day long Today of moving back and forth 1,000 km collectively), my bike's brake broke down when I had just entered the notarization site. Later, I came out to the street, on a bike without brake. Even more free than a bird - without bird's limitation. I had to cross the street (drive on your right side of the road, please). A big white truck obscures the part of the road behind it, and I could not see vehicles coming. But I know that they were. They would emerge from behind the truck at an average speed, run up to me, face to face.

When everything is coming your way, you're in the wrong lane.

Oh yeah. So I know I had to cross the street, and make sure that nothing would bump into me before that. That simple job surprisingly took longer than it supposed to, because I was moving very slow. And even though, there was still fear that a motor would appear from nowhere and attempt to run over me in the middle of the way. And in that case, they would be nothing which they expected me to do that I could do. Couldn't speed up, nor halt. Just went on without a brake.

Anyway, I got to the other side, but the slowliness of my bike riding still didn't change. Street crossing. At red light stopping. Pedestrian passing. They didn't know that I could not do what they expected me would do. Couldn't speed up, nor slow down.

Of course I could not slow down. But what kept me from speeding up was (aside the fact that I wouldn't be able to slow down itself) my nasty front wheel. Sometimes it just halts, and refuses to move any single inch. No reason, no harbinger.

Hush-just-stop.There's nothing you can do or say.

And now, imagine, what happens when it decides to do that when I'm speeding up?

So, is the brake really "the brake" (that obstructs your swift and free movements, decelerates your velocity, restricts your speedy greed)? Seems no to me. What I see is, that definition fits "the brake-free" state better. And quite contrary, the brake itself seems to be the key for the limitlessness.

Perhaps this is also true for almost anything. In order to move forward quickly, and safe and sound, you have to hold the ability to stop whenever you want.

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Today is probably one of the happiest day of my summer break. I don't know why, it's just a normal day at home after coming back from ACCESS, a lazy day (well, not actually...)But I've got happy Small Things. Maybe those are what make it memorable altogether.

I'm starting my chemistry-physics lab internship soon, probably in one or two days.

This morning, Dad bought me a bottle of the new kind of honey tea by Number 1 =) I don't really drink tea, but I'm thinking of doing so... especially honey tea, I've just realized how good it is.

And again, thanks to facebook (and its mail box address book search function), I've got in touch again with Mitsutoshi, after almost 2 years. Man, it brings back lots of memory of my last summer in Toronto. And coincidentally, in the afternoon I received a phone call from my host mother in Toronto, Ban. I picked up the phone and started speaking Vietnamese... so you can guess how confounded I was to find that they're speaking another language at the other end (I couldn't realize that it was English at first, because the connection was so meager). But I'm extremely happy about that... what a nice woman she is! Oh, (and this is especially for Jin to know), she asked me if I had a boyfriend and wanted to introduce me to a son of her friend, who was also Canadian, and according to her, was very handsome, with nice body, much better than lots of movie stars =D Haha, I love her so much!

Well, but I think those are that make my day. Actually, I've just realized how much work I have and been a little bit annoyed because the authorized people didn't let me know that I have to do a couple of things when I asked them earlier. They said I didn't have to do anything and they would inform me when they're done -.- So now I end up running out of time for everything...

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Please, teach me how to be frank and to only tell the truth. Show me that and not insult anyone. But please reassure me that lies are not detestable, for I myself tell lies, as every does. Let me laugh at flowery speeches and reluctant smiles, loud applause behind which mocking eyes eye. Let me speak of expectations, not conclusion, because I won't polish it with nice words and phony achievements. I'm sick of all of that. I want true recognitions.

He, I have only known him for a very short time, definitely not long enough to have some kind of judgment about him. But still, I'll never look at him the same way again. Let's not speak of sensitiveness or politeness, I just can never look at him the same way again. I don't hate him or look down on him, I don't like him or want to befriend him, or anything. I just can never look at him the same way again.

You often tell me: just let it be and have fun. Oh yeah, sing your heart out, close your eyes and strum your guitar, feel the keys of your piano, listen to the rhythms from your drumsticks. Flail your arms, move your body, write your mind, grin and sing. Just have fun.

I seem to have enough things to worry about, so let's just have fun for now.