Finally, I’m back on Facebook, back to the flow of information on my News Feed if I check it everyday. I hesitate a lot when deciding to reactivate again. I’m afraid of being drowned in informations, in chaos just like before. In the days I closed Facebook, there are many things have happened to me but at least, I didn’t waste too much time skimming on Facebook. I could concentrate on doing something. Just some little thing that I always want to try. There was joy, there was also sadness but most of all, there was silence. The silence to listen. The silence to think. The silence to realize. In silence, there is peace eventhough it’s not always like that. There was some silence came with boredom, sorrow, depression, skepticism even grief.
I missed a lot of important events happened when I deactivated Facebook: fishes died, the manifestations, Obama came to Vietnam… I’m just like someone who is not there. I have lived with my irresponsibility. I hided in my own corner, contemplated about frivolous thing. But it’s time to get back on track, to face with everything, to observe life, to acknowledge the flow of information again. I must have the belief in myself. The belief that I won’t be drowned, won’t be breathless again in informations around me. The belief that I won’t fall down too much. The belief that I still can concentrate on what I want to do. Not only the informations, I want to get stories, small stories, big stories from my friends, people around me, from life once again. I prefer listening to talking.
I have thought of Mathilda sometimes in the saddest days of my life. I think of the final image of Léon: The professional when Mathilda buried the small tree in Léon’s pot on the land behind her school without knowing that it would die. I used to think that it would grow up just like the big trees in the forest behind her school too. But after reading the review on New York Times, I knew that it couldn’t live. The tree in the small pot was made for indoor planting, not for outdoor. It couldn’t endure the harsh enviroment outside. It would die. When I know it, I felt as if something in me was squeezed. She maybe waited for the tree to grow up to have a friend, to have the signal that Léon was there. But sooner, there wouldn’t be any tree of him in that place anymore. She was alone again by herself. Just thinking of that makes me blue. I want to watch Léon again and write a review for it too much.
Well, I should end the reactive note here.
Hope that everything will be alright.