Happiness can be defined in all kinds of ways, but human beings, consciously or unconsciously, are always pulling for their own version of happiness. Even people who want to die see death as a kind of solace, and view ending their lives as the only way to make it there. Happiness is the base unit of consciousness, our single greatest motivator. Saying “I just want to be happy” trumps any other explanation.
Tag: short-story
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Three films
- The Worst Person in the World (2021)

- Maborosi (1995)

- Scrapper (2022)

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Semester 2

Happy Sunday, Lavenders,
It’s been a while since I last wrote here. I’m sorry about that.
The fires in LA, the evacuation, moving back to college… everything’s been a little scattered. My thoughts, my days. It’s taken me some time to settle in.
Yesterday, I came back to New York. Now I’m in my dorm, alone again. While I was away, dust settled in my room, so this morning, right after I woke up, I cleaned. I washed my clothes. Changed my bedsheets. And let the breeze in. It moved softly through the room, brushing past the curtains, carrying away the dust. After that, I went to Cherry Valley for grocery shopping with my friends. I picked up a carton of Chobani vanilla-flavoured oat milk for the first time, and it was really good. I normally don’t buy milk because it’s too big for me to finish on my own, and my mini fridge always feels too small. But I wanted milk with chocolate syrup in it so badly that I bought it anyway. It was a sweet decision. The vanilla was soft—perfect for a cosy winter day. When we got back from the store, my two friends and I gathered in the dorm and shared some bread that one of them brought from home. I don’t remember the name, it was one of the traditional Vietneme bread which has saseame seed on top of it. It was warm and the way we sat together, tearing off pieces, made me feel less nervous about being away from home.
Seeing my friends again made me happy too. It’s only been three weeks, but it felt longer. I missed the way they tease me. The way we share snacks and random stories. How they make me laugh even when I don’t feel like it. But then I think about classes starting soon and I feel my stomach knot up already. Maths. Statistics. Deadlines. Tests. It makes me want to disappear for a while. But life doesn’t let you do that. You can’t pause the world. Sometimes, maybe. But most of the time, no. So I’m trying my best to be gentle with all the tides coming my way. I’m especially worried because I’ve been thinking too much about the future lately. “Do I even like this major? Is this what I want from life?” And that kind of thinking never ends—it loops back around, one question leading to another. But I’ll remind myself—God is with me. The worries, the doubts, the weight of everything I can’t control… I’ll hand them over to Him. He can carry what I can’t. And that’s enough for today (Matthew 6:34).
If you’re reading this and you’re in college too, I want you to know you’re not alone. The second semester might be harder. There will be more tests, more deadlines, and more ways the world tries to measure us. But it won’t last forever. There’s an end to it. And we’ll finish the race together.
For now, let’s keep going. One day at a time.
You’ve got this. And God’s got you.
Thank you for stopping by my little lavender fields.
God bless and goodbye!
~Rue
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Checking In

Hello, Lavenders,
How’s everyone doing?
There’s a fire near my place. The sky is tinted orange. I’m a bit scared, but it’ll be okay.
I don’t have many words in me today, so I’ll leave you with a song—Conan Gray’s cover of Video Games. His voice feels sad, like he’s sitting with his own loneliness. It touches that part of solitude we all carry, but in a tender way.
Thank you for stopping by my little lavender fields.
I hope you’re all safe and warm.
God bless and goodbye!
~Rue -
Bird Wings

Hello, Lavenders,
How was your first week of 2025?
Yesterday, I went to watch Flow (2024), a film I’ve been wanting to see for a long time. There’s no cinema near my college, so I haven’t been able to watch films as often as I used to. But now that I’m on break, I finally had the chance to go. I’ve been waiting to see Flow before it left theatres. The reviews were glowing, and I didn’t want to miss it. I found a small independent cinema, and the moment I walked in, it felt like home.
I grew up on a little island where the animal population outnumbered the humans. We didn’t have big cinemas, only small independent ones. I used to take an hour-long bus ride every weekend with my friend to watch films. We were in our film buff phase back then, watching nearly every release that came out. Those bus rides were long, but we loved them. We’d talk about the films all the way home — what we liked, what we didn’t, what the director could have done differently. As we grew older, things changed. Life got busier. Exams, new responsibilities, different paths. The one of us moved to the other side of the island, making it harder to meet. Our trips became less frequent. But even now, whenever we meet, we always make time for a film. It’s our little ritual, a reminder of the days we shared popcorn, seeing who could fit more in their mouth at once and ending up choking from laughing too hard.
Watching Flow reminded me of that.
The film was beautiful. There was no dialogue, yet it spoke louder than words. And it stayed with me long after the screen faded to black. There were no humans in the film, but every wave, every crack in the earth, every storm felt profoundly human. It showed how we try to conquer nature without ever realising we’re part of it. How we take and take, blind to the damage, until everything stands on the edge of collapse. And how, in the end, it takes sacrifice to bring balance back to the world.
For some reason, when I think of humanity’s habit of taking too much and leaving things broken, I’m reminded of Bird Wings by Valium Aggelein — a side project of Duster. The song carries a kind of sadness that lingers, mourning what’s already lost, while holding on, desperately, to what little remains.
Thank you for stopping by my little lavender fields.
God bless and goodbye!
~Rue
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Sticky Summer Air

Hello Lavenders,
The final day of 2024 has arrived. How are you feeling?
For me, this year has been a mix of endings and beginnings. I graduated from high school and moved to a different country. Here, no one knows me, and that feels freeing, like I could rewrite everything from the start. It’s funny—one day you’re in your room, and the next, you’re in a whole new country. You never really know what’s coming next, but maybe that’s what makes life interesting.
In this new place, I’ve met people I never expected to meet, discovered places I never thought I’d find, and learnt to grow in ways I never imagined. It’s hard to believe I’ve only been here for four and a half months. My perspective has shifted, my values have expanded, and I’ve started to understand myself in new ways. The friends I’ve made have helped me see life differently, but more than that, they’ve helped me see parts of myself I didn’t know were there. For that, I’m grateful.
This year also gave many Britpop lovers what they had dreamed of for years: the Oasis reunion. Their music has been with me since I was a kid. I never saw them live, but they feel more real than any other band—especially Noel. He grew up with struggles, including a stutter, just like I did. It wasn’t just the shared sadness that drew me to him. It was the way he turned pain into art, showing me that life can hold hope and courage again. Even though Noel once said, “Don’t put your life in the hands of a rock ‘n’ roll band,” he’s still my rock ‘n’ roll hero.
In the Supersonic documentary, Noel shares a piece of his past:
“My dad used to beat the living daylights out of me. But I’ve never felt compelled to either talk about it or write about it. You can’t let that kind of thing affect you in any way. Because then you’re carrying that weight all the way through life. I think it benefitted me in the way that it made me withdraw into my own world. And from that came learning to play the guitar. I guess, in some way, my old fella beat the talent into me.”
When I was younger, I watched that part over and over, like it was some kind of spell. His words felt like something I could hold on to. He reminded me that while we can’t choose what hurts us, we can choose what we create from it.
This is one of my favourite lyrics from Stop Crying Your Heart Out, and I wanted to share it with you:
Hold up
Hold on
Don’t be scared
You’ll never change what’s been and gone
May your smile
Shine on
Don’t be scared
Your destiny may keep you warm‘Cause all of the stars
Are fading away
Just try not to worry
You’ll see them someday
Take what you need
And be on your way
And stop crying your heart outThese lines feel like a hand on your shoulder, telling you to dream, to keep going. They tell you that even when the stars fade and the world feels heavy, there’s a light, a chance, a person standing by your side.
Music has a way of turning into a time machine. A single song can carry you back to the exact moment—the air, the light, the way the world felt. Oasis does that for me. When their songs play, I’m back in my childhood, riding my bike to the ocean after school with Wendy. We’d sit by the shore, watching the tides ebb and flow, listening to their music until the sky turned orange and the sun dipped below the horizon. We didn’t talk much, but we didn’t need to. Afterward, we’d scrape together every coin we could find and ride to the corner store. Inside, the air was cool and smelled like chlorine and cheap plastic. We’d grab the biggest blue drink we could afford and share it, passing it back and forth, laughing as it turned our tongues bright blue. I can almost smell the ocean wind, even though I’m far from home now. It was our way of letting everything inside us drift away, like the waves pulling back into the sea.
In Don’t Look Back in Anger, Noel sings about starting a revolution from his bed. That’s my hope for 2025. Small revolutions. Gentle changes. Finding joy in the small moments.
Here’s to Whatever comes next.
Thank you for visiting my little lavender fields.
God bless and goodbye!
~Rue
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Earphones in an Altoids Tin

Happy Monday, Lavenders!
How was your day? Mine was pretty chill, but I was a bit sick. I don’t know why, but I get sick every single month. It’s like clockwork at this point. To make myself feel better, I put on my favourite hoodie. I’ve been wearing it for almost three years now, so it’s super loose, but it smells like me. And I can tell by the scent that it really holds my memories—especially the ones with my dad. It was a gift from him, so every time I wear it, I think of it like a spell—that this is how I keep him close.” Anyways, after I changed, I made a blanket fort on my bed (or, more accurately, an igloo), curled up inside with three blankets, and started reading Impossible Creatures by Katherine Rundell. I’m not usually into fantasy, but I’m trying new things these days.
Normally, once I like something, it’s hard for me to change. It’s partly because I’m indecisive and partly because I’m a total perfectionist. I like to order the same tea, eat the same sweets, and buy clothes from the same brands—every time. (I’m very loyal and maybe a little stubborn because sticking to what you know feels safe. You know it works, and you know you’ll like it.) Even with music, people say Spotify has better personalisation, but I can’t switch from Apple Music because: A. Lossless audio, B. Dobly Atmos, and C. it works on my old MP3 iPod. I love old stuff. A lot of people like shiny new gadgets and trends, but I’m over here fond of things from the ’70s, ’80s, and ’90s—the world I never lived in but somehow feel nostalgic for.
Speaking of indecisiveness and perfectionism, I’m so bad. It took me a YEAR to pick a pair of headphones. I compared prices, sound quality, colours, design, noise-cancelling… it nearly drove me insane. Just when I thought I’d decided, a newer model came out, and I was back to square one. People say being picky is good when it comes to purchases, but trust me, it’s a pain. And for those who are curious, I bought the Bose QC Ultra headphones. They’re good, and as a music lover, I’m glad I got them. They were expensive, though. My wallet definitely needed CPR afterward, but they were worth it. The only downside is that, like all over-ear headphones, they’re tricky to use in bed unless you lie perfectly still on your back. And I’m more of a side-sleeper-curled-up-like-a-sushi-roll type. So for bed, I stick to my trusty wired earphones.
I know everyone’s into AirPods these days, but I can’t do it. It feels like I’m abandoning my old friend. Is that weird? Probably. But that’s just how I am. I get attached to small things. My wired earphones have been with me through long walks, late nights and tangled messes. They’ve been there when I needed them. AirPods might be better, but they don’t have the same story. They haven’t been crammed into my pocket a hundred times or survived the near-death experience of a washing machine cycle.
Also, it’s a little sad that new phones don’t have the 3.5mm jack anymore. It’s like one day, they just decided, “Hey, let’s make everyone go wireless,” and now we’re all looking for adapters (another way for companies to earn money, haha). I think about all those wired earphones sitting in drawers, forgotten. But I still keep mine in an Altoid tin (it helps keep them from getting tangled). While everything else fades away, I hang on to this small thing. It’s a tiny act, probably meaningless to anyone else, but it matters to me. It’s a way of keeping things from the past, even when the world moves on.
I just poured out my thoughts, so my writing is very unorganised, but I like this “unorganised-ness.” 😎
Before I go, I want to share a little secret: I’ve been listening to No Surprises while writing this, and the Live on Music Planet 2nite 2003 version is my personal favourite. If you like Radiohead, please try it and let me know if you like it too! (But don’t tell anyone I shared this—let’s keep it between us!)
Thank you for visiting my little lavender fields.
God bless and goodbye!
~Rue
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When the Sunshine Fades

Hello, Lavenders!
How was your day? Mine was calm. I finished a book I’d been reading. Then I tried picking up another, but nothing clicked. So, I gave up and watched a movie instead. What movie? Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. It was my first time seeing it. I’d heard about it before—how everyone seems to think it’s essential viewing—but it never really caught my interest. Probably because I’m not into romance. Or maybe it’s because I’ve never been in love (yet). For now, love is still a fuzzy idea, not a memory. But I decided to give it a chance. December 31st is the last day it’s on Netflix, and that was enough reason to press play.
When it ended, what lingered in my mind wasn’t the love story; it was the idea of having control over your memory—of your mind becoming selective. Have you ever thought about that? If you could erase a person, a moment, a chapter of your life—would you? For me, I don’t think I could. Even the hard parts—the ones I’d rather forget—feel like they belong. They’ve shaped me in ways I didn’t see at the time. Without them, maybe I’d be a little lighter, a little less worried, but I wouldn’t be me. Some memories feel like an old sweater. Soft. Familiar. They hold you, remind you of who you are. But then there are the heavy ones. The ones that feel like a backpack you forgot to take off. People say, “Pain makes you stronger,” but sometimes it just stays. Like a ketchup stain on your favourite shirt—they may fade over time, but a trace of them always stays.
I don’t know why, but during an hour and 48 minutes of watching, a line I found on the internet lingered in my mind:
“We sit down
in the smell of the past
and rise in a light
that is already leaving.
We ache in secret.“Clementine’s impulsivity, Joel’s desperation, the memories they erased only to find them again—it all circles back. We carry what we try to leave behind. We sit down in the smell of the past and rise in a light that is already leaving. We ache in secret because we are porous, because we are human, because we were built to carry it all—the sweaters, the backpacks, the ketchup stains.
Thank you for visiting my little lavender fields.
God bless and goodbye!
~Rue
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Popsicle Hands & Frozen Hearts

Hello, Lavenders,
How was your day? Mine felt… heavy.The weather here is bitter—my hands feel like popsicles. Winter has this weird way of making everything feel colder—not just your body, but the whole world. The days are super short now. The sun, weary of its duty, slips away before the evening settles. I wish I could blame the weather for how I feel. It would be easier to say it’s the snow, or the grey sky, or the chill in the air. But grief doesn’t care about the weather. It exists outside time, outside everything.
This morning, my high school teacher passed away. Just like that. One moment she was here, and the next, she wasn’t. Loss doesn’t knock. It doesn’t ask if it’s a good time. It just arrives, like a shadow spilling across the floor, leaving you to figure out how to live in the emptiness it creates. There aren’t any words for this kind of silence. I’ve tried to find them, but they don’t exist. So instead, I’ll leave you with a poem. Not to fix anything—because nothing can—but to remind you (and me) that even on the darkest nights, when you can’t see the stars, they’re still there, waiting for you to find them again.
Winter bites.
It starts with your hands,
The cold sinking into your fingers
Until they feel like someone else’s.
Then your toes, your ears,
And somehow your heart.It hurts.
The kind of hurt that’s sharp and hollow,
A pain that pretends it belongs there.
The wind doesn’t care who you are.
It finds the cracks in your coat,
The spaces where warmth hides,
And pulls it out like a thief.But then—
Someone lights a fire,
Or hands you a cup of sun.
You gather, close enough to see
The flush in someone else’s cheeks,
To hear them smile.And it doesn’t feel like fighting anymore.
The cold is still there,
But it stays outside.
Inside, you remember
That warmth isn’t just heat.
It’s hands.
It’s voices.
It’s not being alone.Thank you for being here in my lavender fields.
God bless and goodbye!
~Rue
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New Hair
Hello, Lavenders.
How’s everyone doing?
I finally cut my hair. It had grown past my ribs, long enough to start feeling uncomfortable. The salon near my college charges too much, so I waited until winter break. Right now, I’m staying with a family friend because I don’t have a set place to call home for the holidays.
By the time I walked into the salon, my hair looked more like Chewbacca than me. The stylist was surprised by how long it was. Now it’s cut to just above my collarbone, and I feel lighter in more ways than one. It’s strange how a haircut can change the way you see yourself. To celebrate, I treated myself to matcha. Some people say it tastes like grass, but I like it. It gives me the caffeine I need without the bitterness of coffee. I added caramel syrup, which made it taste like a sweet treat. I sat in a wobbly café chair that squeaked whenever I moved. On a normal day, I might have switched to another chair, but because of my lighter hair and lighter mood, I just let it be.
While I sipped, I watched Adventure Time. Some people might think I’m childish for watching cartoons, but for me, it is my comfort time. And I hope you all also enjoy your personal comfort time regardless of what other people think.
Hello, Lavenders! Can you believe it’s my third post already?
How’s everyone doing?
I finally cut my hair! It was way overdue—so overdue, in fact, that it had grown past my ribs. It felt like carrying a blanket around on my head, which, let me tell you, gets pretty annoying. The salon near my college charges an arm and a leg, so I held off until winter break. Right now, I’m staying with someone I know because I didn’t have anywhere else to go. Winter break can feel a little strange when you don’t have a set place to call home, but I’m grateful for the kindness of others. By the time I got to the salon, my hair looked like something out of a Chewbacca cosplay. (Yeah, laugh it up, I did too.) The stylist took one look and said, “Wow, when’s the last time you saw scissors?” I didn’t realise it was that obvious, but I laughed along, pretending I wasn’t just a little embarrassed. Now my hair’s a little above my collarbone, and I feel so much lighter—literally and figuratively. Funny thing, though. Looking in the mirror afterward, I barely recognised myself. Isn’t it weird how something as simple as a haircut can make you feel like a completely different person? Like you’ve shed a piece of your identity but still stayed…you.
To celebrate, I decided to treat myself to this fancy green grass drink. It’s not actually grass—relax. It’s powdered green tea that looks like someone blended up a lawn but tastes way better. People call it matcha, but I like to think of it as a magical potion that makes me feel zen and fancy at the same time. I was sitting in this wobbly chair at the café that squeaked every time I moved. But I liked it—it felt like the chair was part of the experience, like it had its own personality. As for the drink? I went all out. I added caramel syrup, so it was extra extra sweet, and I loved it. It felt like drinking a dessert. Smooth, sugary, and over-the-top in the best way possible. As I sipped my green grass potion, I watched Adventure Time. There’s something about Finn and Jake—their childlike curiosity, their big hearts—that makes me feel like life isn’t so bad after all. Their adventures, their innocent hope, the way they see the world—it’s like a small flicker of a Christmas candle. Not enough to light up the whole room, but just enough to make things feel soft and safe. Watching them always makes me feel like, yeah, maybe things are going to be okay.
P.S. Ever since I moved to college, I can feel my eyesight getting worse, but I’m still not convinced to wear glasses. I kind of like how the world looks a little blurry. It’s the same reason I prefer yellow light over fluorescent light. Fluorescent light shows everything—every crack, every detail. But yellow light softens it. And I think it’s okay to see the world that way.
Thank you for stopping by my little lavender field.
God bless and goodbye!
~Rue