Coffee & Talk · Cold brew, 1 pump of sugar

[CB] We allow ourselves to be sad. Aren’t we forgetting we’re allowed to be happy too?

A.k.a. This is the best way of ending 2018 I can think of, something along the line of “Holy smokes I’ve written TWO entries this year”. 

The date was 7th December 2018 and accidentally listened to a young man’s letter on the radio (you didn’t read it wrong, it was from a freaking radio show) about his story of having his heartbroken 8 years ago but still has not gotten over the girl who dumped him. He was sad, I get the point, but I have to ask ‘WHY’? It’s been eight fucking years? 

Then it hit me, sometimes people hang on to things longer than they should. For example, you still keep that lipstick from your high school days even though you don’t use it anymore and it’s probably bad for your health. You know it, yet maybe it was nostalgia, maybe it was linked a memory that you treasure. Okay, probably that was a little too materialistic talking about cosmetics, but you get the point. You can very well go out and buy another lipstick but that one won’t be the same. It won’t hold the memories like the old ones but that’s the whole point, make new memories. Hold on to things that are good for you, not the other way around. 

Continue reading “[CB] We allow ourselves to be sad. Aren’t we forgetting we’re allowed to be happy too?”
Cold brew, 1 pump of sugar

[CB] I stopped posting selfies on Instagram for a year and a half

A.k.a. Holy smoke I’m actually writing something!

Here’s the deal: 12 March 2017 was the day I posted my last picture of me on my Instagram. From on then, about a year and a half, it’s been all about every littlest things in my life on my Instagram (a bit of a mess, but it’s my mess and I looooove it!). I’ve posted around 200 photos that are not my face ever since and my Insta feed has never looked better. In short, I love it.


Edit: I’m not anti-selfie, it works for me. I don’t think stop posting selfies will make all of us better. If posting selfies make you feel better about yourself and it’s how you love yourself, do it and don’t give a shit about what people might think.

You may ask why (or may not, who cares) I did it. I did ask myself once in every while. Did I hate the way I look? Did I gain so much weight that I’m ashamed to show myself on Instagram (I actually did, but I’m loving it to be honest)? Did I have some issues in my life? Have I been going through some emo phase even though I’m twenty-fucking-six? Have I gone completely mad?  Continue reading “[CB] I stopped posting selfies on Instagram for a year and a half”

nyclovers' blog

“Nguyệt Hạ” is no more. What’s next?


From today onwards, I won’t be using my old pen name “Nguyệt Hạ” (Under the moon) for any future posts (if there is any, really). “Nguyệt Hạ” has been my persona for quite a while. The name itself seems poetic, melancholy and mysterious. Maybe as a teenager, the romantic idea in the name appealed me. I’ve grown up and changed quite a lot for the past few years. Lots of things had happened and affected me in both good and bad ways, which somehow makes me unable to see myself in “Nguyệt Hạ”. No alter ego stays alter ego when nothing is left but the name itself.

I chose that name when I was very, very young. Now that I’m older, I think I want to stay young, which makes the name too old and too deep for me (to comprehend). In short, just no more “Nguyệt Hạ”. I think I was a pretentious kid who wanted to show off, who doesn’t when you’re… 17? Haha.

2013 was quite a year. 2014 was a blast. 2015 was extraordinary. And I think 2016 has been treating me well. I’m all about moving forward. Onwards.


I’ve been in love with New York City for a very long time. I think I spent too much time watching all 9 seasons of CSI New York (lol). That was why I chose the url nyclovers for this blog to be honest (but mostly because that time ‘nguyetha’ was taken). There’s more to the name, I think. It’s “nyclovers” not “nyclover”. I think when I typed it, I meant “lovers” who in NYC. I liked the romantic in the way it sounded in my head. I liked the dynamic in the NYC part. After all, it is the city that never sleeps. I like that. That’s more like me.

Thus, it’s me, myself and I.

It’s nyclovers.

Goodbye, Nguyệt Hạ. You will be sincerely, deeply, truly missed.

And an official warm welcome for you, nyclovers.

Oh, and the name of the blog changes too. Nguyệt Hạ stays in The Mist Palace. As for nyclovers, I think she stays in somewhere different :). I want a TARDIS, so I make this place one. Don’t worry, I still have my feet on the ground.

If you come across any Twitter, Tumblr with the name nyclovers or nyc-lovers, that’s me (except for the KPOP shit poster one, that, I swear, isn’t me, ahem). Stay connected if you like.

That’s it. Thanks for reading this rant.


Mocha 2 đường · nyclovers' blog

[M2D] And if there’s one thing I know, it’s the fine art of letting go

Ps. It’s been an awfully long time since I write. So here it goes… Oh, and I might be listening to too much Gabrielle Aplin :)

And if there’s one thing I know, it’s the fine art of letting go

You might have read way too many posts on how to let someone go or forgetting someone. That’s bullshit. Let me tell you one thing, there’s no fucking way you can completely let someone go or forget someone. You need to understand that the moment YOU decided to let someone in your life, you had unconsciously signed the agreement of letting them make you smile, hurt you or leave any kind of imprint on your mind and your heart.

Personally, I think letting someone go actually means accepting that that person is probably going to be on your mind, in your life more frequent than you think. It also means that you sometimes will get a slight heartache because that person has long moved on with their life while you feel like yours is standing still or going nowhere. Don’t worry. The moment you realise that fact yourself, you actually did move on.

In the end, letting someone go actually is all about you, not them, ever.  Letting someone go is about how you can live YOUR life without depending on their existence. After all, they are just the past.

Be happy. This is your life, are you who you want to be?

11:00 p.m., Ho Chi Minh City


NYC Lovers/Lizzie/whatever you want to call me :)

Fiction · nyclovers' blog

The best things in life are free

T/Slice of life/There is no them, just him and her.

Occasionally, I call this “Oblivious”

It has never been a bother.

She never minds his false signals and meaningless gestures since they warm her heart, for half of the time. The other half she spends on contemplating whether they mean something, or anything at all.

Gradually, it has become a bad habit she cannot break. As days go, she wants those oh-not-so-meaningful gestures more and more. She turns daydreaming into her morning exercises and into her goodnight cup of hot chocolate. Her brain never understands why she keeps thinking about those things. Probably because it’s a pleasant thing to do. At the end of the day, small talks and small gestures are the best things in life. And they are often free, so why not?

This is a fact, not speculation: his small gestures mean more to her than the fact that she is unclear about his true intentions. The funny thing is it actually feels like the game of cat and mouse in which he is the mischievous cat and she’s willingly to play the mouse. She wants him to capture her more than she ever wants him to love her. Of course she occasionally pictures him with her but it never gets serious. Her mind never wanders to that direction, truth to be told. Life’s funny that way.

In the end, she just wants a little attention while keeping the status quo of him and her being oblivious to love.

HCMC, 11/06/2015

NYC Lovers

A/N: This is the result of Ludovico Einaudi mixed with Michael Buble mixed with Gabrielle Aplin.


You Should Date An Illiterate Girl


Thought Catalog

Date a girl who doesn’t read. Find her in the weary squalor of a Midwestern bar. Find her in the smoke, drunken sweat, and varicolored light of an upscale nightclub. Wherever you find her, find her smiling. Make sure that it lingers when the people that are talking to her look away. Engage her with unsentimental trivialities. Use pick-up lines and laugh inwardly. Take her outside when the night overstays its welcome. Ignore the palpable weight of fatigue. Kiss her in the rain under the weak glow of a streetlamp because you’ve seen it in film. Remark at its lack of significance. Take her to your apartment. Dispatch with making love. Fuck her.

Let the anxious contract you’ve unwittingly written evolve slowly and uncomfortably into a relationship. Find shared interests and common ground like sushi, and folk music. Build an impenetrable bastion upon that ground. Make it sacred. Retreat into…

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