Be….What you want Lad

Recently before we slept I asked my wife a silly question: “What do you think how people think of me? Sometimes I wanna know. Silly."  Her reply was great: “Swerving from extreme to extreme. Sometimes you seem like chatting non-stop. Sometimes you just shut yourself from everyone."

Correct. Except. Most of the time I just shut myself from everyone.

Especially on my transport trip to work.  It is the only time everyday I can read.  So my new acquaintance’s (a mommy of a schoolmate of my son), who happens to get on the same bus route to work, insistence to sit by me and had a chat about our kids today was quite annoying to me.  That fact that I was in my final chapter of Lord of the Rings Volume 1 and she stood in my way to the final was particularly torturing.  All along she talked and asked and talked, did my brain wondering if I were autistic like Sean Murphy in The Good Doctor it would be great.

“I have a book to read. And I have to finish it. And I don’t want to talk to you. And that your insistence to sit next to me while I hate sitting next to anyone on my bus trip is annoying to me," said Sean with his autotune tone. HAHAHHAA

Shit. At that moment did I hate myself not being autistic. I just couldn’t do it. So…

Reluctantly did I chat her back and try to listen to her grief and worries about her girl.

It got her jittery when I said I let my son watch tele. She was amazed. “WHY", asked her. Why why? I wanted to retort but I did not. I just explained it’s my son’s only entertainment, and it would be very difficult to tell him not if I was to negotiate the terms with him as equal footing parties, rather than a tyrant to force out my order like “Fuck Off This Is An Order!"

She politely said it was the point she did not agree. And then a little digression about other things about her girl, and then she came back to the same topic. She said, “In a talk I cannot remember by whom…"

“Whatever, " said I, “Not important is it?"

“The speaker had a word that nails in my mind. That is, ‘Remember, parents, in dealing with your primary school kids, remember your role as parents, i.e. leader of a family. You have your authority to make your children do anything to their benefit in future.  I understand you guys may learn the western style of parenting, that kind of being friends with your kids.  It’s not working here at that moment.  Democracy is not for primary when they are still obedient. Democracy is for secondary stage when they show aggression."

“This is…" interrupt I bluntly with valiant, edge on impoliteness, “this is where I cannot agree. But…..I understand." My undertone is, when you think democracy is just for assuage anger, you are insulting democracy.  But…I understand. Democracy is never for anyone as long as they are Chinese. I understand. I’m Chinese. I’m fucking Chinese.

The chatting went along the route, as with her anger, her anxiety about her daughter’s future. But we still have something to agree on, like, “I understand your reluctance mistress. You also want, at least used to want, to give your daughter a happy childhood. But you know you and your daughter will get punished, by the cruelty of times, our times, our battlements." And like, “I understand I am getting punished everyday because I consciously choose a doomed path for my son. At least a doomed path in Hong Kong." And the chatting and the grieving went on, until I finally got the hell out of the bus.

That I will still meet her on the same bus route next week, and then next week, and have her insistence on talking and sitting with me, is worrying to me. Should I learn to be Sean Murphy? But all I want to say is actually.

Mistress. I recently listen to a song by Siobhan Wilson. And I love it. Let everyone becomes whatever one wants. Even it is doomed. Already we are doomed. We live our fucking life and cannot be dead right on, is already a damned doom thing. Nothing can be worse. Do what we want.


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