The time now is 7 am. I have yet to sleep; the demons of the
night keep me awake. I say demons, but it’s really just the same recurring
thoughts coming up again and again. Things I want to write about don’t just
link up in a coherent manner for writing in the English Language; a series of
drawings on a canvas might be a better description of what I’m trying to say.
But then nobody will see it. Nobody will understand it. I guess this shouldn’t
be called a journal entry either.
Before I devolve into too long didn’t read territory, this
is not a farewell. It is a first, I hope it’s a last, but it is not me saying
my goodbyes; I’m way too stubborn for any of that leaving this world nonsense.
Although it is quite possible I might die to health problems if I continue to
have insomnia like this (although this one was brought about mainly because I
drank coffee at 6pm yesterday). Nonetheless, it’s the demons that keep me awake
in bed after midnight.
I say demons, mainly to add negative connotations to these
threads of thought. A more apt term that comes to mind is grudges. Suddenly I
think about To Be or Not To Be the choose your own adventure book. Maybe this
exposition should be in that form instead. But then it will be too difficult to
read. I hope that the reader would treat this as an exercise in stringing
another person’s thoughts together as we go along (I’m not really crazy, just
trying to type whatever comes to mind, since the demons come and go as they
wish, and I have this hope that writing it all here will let me put some of
them to rest). Pause. Mind is suddenly clear as if the demons have fled after
that thought, but I have some tales in hand to start with..
“Forgive and Forget” I don’t know when was the last time I
heard this phrase nor where I learned of it. I don’t remember. In fact, I don’t
remember a lot of things. I suspect this strange preoccupation of mine of
holding, remembering and bearing grudges - demons, if you will - is taking up
so much of my recollection time that I basically have amnesia. From what I
believe is basically constructive memory, the phrase was probably introduced in
one of the times my mother tried to tell me to forgive my father for something
that happened. What, I cannot remember. Which is surprising, maybe my mother
helped me with that demon. I want to describe these demons I have, but that’s
the main reason why I’m writing this exposition and that can wait. Maybe some
details on the amnesia would help more to describe this problem I have with the
demons. After all, science has proven lack of sleep leads to bad memory, but
this amnesia is not simple.
New paragraph for emphasis. I don’t know about my brother,
but I cannot recall any of my family vacations. I don’t recall what I did in
Thailand, China, Taiwan, Malaysia, or wherever else I’ve been with them. I don’t
remember what fun I had on the several cruises to nowhere (even though I
remember one of the cruises was Aquarius). The only fun times I could remember
are a scattering of events that me and my brother had fun. Genting, for one. I
remember the demons much more clearly, as I recall them diligently every time
one of these bouts of insomnia occurs.
More Chinese proverbs come to mind, I’ll get to them in a
second. I believe that most of my closer friends know about my relationship
with my father. By know I mean that they know I have a/some/several grudges
against him. The Chinese proverb is something along the lines of each family
has a mantra that is difficult to read.
I just went to look at the puddle I was intending to reflect
this on, it seems that it has been forgotten and left behind after all, I guess
I will have to rethink the strategy of getting people to read this.
More distractions, as I slowly become less close to the
demons and more half-awake. It’s okay, because I can summon them at will.
Denial is a fickle thing, after all. Another Chinese proverb is that the
ugliness within the family should be kept within the family. Somehow, I think that
is true to a certain extent, but in this case (lol econs training) fuck that
fucking proverb. It might be the reason why I’m still like that.
Finally there’s the idea of filial piety. The core of the
idea is that the parents have sacrificed a lot of things to get their children
where they are, wherever they are. They have worked, toiled, given up their wants
and dreams, in favor of letting their children grow up to be… I realize I don’t
know how to finish this sentence, because I cannot make any conjecture on what
to fill it in with. The term that fits in a ideal happy world is “whoever they
decide to be”. But that’s not the case. Linkin’ Park’s Numb, the angsty song
that I scream out at the top of my lungs, summarizes it well. Parents have been
kids too, with things denied them, with things forced on them. They try to make
it up, tell themselves, no, I have to ‘do it right’ with my children. They see
other families, the ‘happy’ side of everything (since the ugly is supposed to
be kept hidden), and task upon themselves the need to make things right for
their children. It’s easy to say what you want to happen, but the truth is, the
best way is to act the way you want your children to act. I once said that I’m
an asshole because my dad is an asshole, and care for people because my mother
cared for me. I could say it again, but then I might as well end the thing here
without talking about demons. But I won’t. The thoughts have refined themselves
since then, since more bouts. The way I feel, in psychological terms, is very
similar to penis envy. However I would like to think it’s not, mainly because of
the demons. Either way, I love my mother very much. Not just because of her
sacrifices, but because of what I’ve learned from her actions. She has her
flaws, but some have also taught me a little about women, and I love her all
the same. I hope she knows. As for my dad, he plays the role of the alpha male
in the household. What else would I biologically do other than learn from the
alpha?
The first thing I learned is to blame. It’s very common in
people, but I see it as a weakness. Standard blaming is a technique used to
shift responsibility on another. In my case it’s more of completely avoiding
the need to take any responsibility, action or even apologize, regardless of
whether the shifted blame is accepted by the other party. One might imagine
that this does not work very well outside of an environment where one is the
alpha male among dependents. And your image would be correct. However, looking
at what my brother does now, he has learned it 100%, although I’m not sure if
he also exhibits the apparent remorse when he takes it too far (which I barely
remember my dad doing).
Second, I gained a quick temper. For me, I feel like it’s an
uncontrollable torrent of emotion, primarily of anger, when I get ticked off.
Within the household, the alpha has no need to control anything, and can just freely
let his temper reign, only to show some apparent remorse after tears have been
shed. For some reason, since one of the demons spawned after A levels, and
possibly after listening to SHIN’s 从今以后I
seem to have lost the ability to cry when I’m sad or depressed. Cold analysis
leads me to believe that crying is used to let loved ones know that you’re
hurt, so that you can be comforted. And since it’s pointless, I have lost that
ability. Back to the volcano analogy. Now that I think about it, it’s a lot
like a sudden pulse of insanity. I have only unleashed it once in full force
before, shouting bloodcurdling death threats at an Indian kid who was part of a
bunch of teens loitering about collecting trash everything that we
neglected to keep watch on while we performed maintenance on vehicles under the
hot Indian afternoon sun. The second time I can currently recall the insanity
setting in was when I was in France with friends, feeling like I was depressed
from being forever alone. Many irritations were already in place, such as not
having any luggage, not getting any help from the unfriendly Air France and
French airport staff who kept pretending they didn’t understand English, knowing
I had no insurance coverage, no spare change of clothes in the carry on and not
having felt properly clean for most of the week, we went into an adult store to
look at sexy lingerie. I thought about how we just spent all our time touristing,
but nobody had bothered to ask if I might perhaps need a change of clothes or
even a towel. I could have asked, but I haven’t learnt how to do that. I’ve
never seen my dad interact with a friend or colleague in a non-hostile manner
before, and have never met any of my mother’s friends apart from my brother’s
wedding. Read: I don’t know how to ask people for favors. I spent all of last
year saying I’m collecting favors from people, but I’ve not really asked for
many back. Back to France. This was boiling point, but I instead said that I
was really tired and asked if it was the last place we’d go to. Someone said
yeah, but turns out of course it wasn’t. The next stop was Museum of Sex.
Remember depressed alone guy who’s thinking no woman other than his mom would
love him? I pretty much felt myself lose the ability to think coherently and
felt the need to shout at something, someone anyone. Instead I exited the store
and walked away.
I think Mr. Chen caught up with me, I don’t remember what I
said, but I didn’t stop walking. He turned away, I continued walking. Nobody
called out to me or caught up again, I just walked. The street was straight,
pretty much, but nobody came to join me. I was alone, and feeling like an 80
year old with dementia. I don’t know how far I walked along that road, but I
found a departmental store, and after some gesturing bought some new, clean
underwear to go with the one I’ve been wearing inside and out since I left the
house in UIUC. I felt a little better.
I saw Mr. Chen and possibly (I don’t remember) a couple
others walk past the store, but didn’t call out to them. I slowly made my way
out and nonchalantly rejoined them, saying something along the lines of “finding
something more productive to do”, which made zero sense to a bunch of guys that
just spent the last ? minutes trying to find their possibly kidnapped friend in
a foreign place where they couldn’t speak the language. I don’t recall apologizing.
Another demon, I don’t know what I’ve lost from it. I can blame a lot of things
(see last 600 or so words), but in the end it is my own inaction that’s letting
this demon persist. I’m sorry. The methods used to make amends that I learned
at home haven’t ever worked properly.
The third thing I’ve learned is to hold grudges. To remember
times when people did wrong, to use and repeat as if it were a tool to judge
guilty in the next trial, regardless of what the next trial actually was. If
that didn’t make sense, it doesn’t. It’s sort of like saying you’ve been wrong
before, so this time you’re wrong too. Many demons seem to spring up when I
think of this, but I don’t feel like listing them here. Gotta leave the ugly,
character(me) development bits for the end.
The thing about the third one is, I’ve noticed how much
damage it’s caused, and felt the brunt of the result. Now I have somehow
rewired it so I remember things my friends did that I can use to tease them in
the future. I don’t know if its equivalent, or whether I will end up holding
grudges on ‘loved’ ones in the future. But for now, all grudges and demons are
only against one man. And one way of looking at it is the blame game again.
Everything, is really just his fault. Even my memories and the demons I might
list later are all just endless examples and reasons why my blame is justified,
as if that fixes anything. It doesn’t, because I do not forgive him for any of
it, and possibly never will. It’s almost circular logic.
I’m at a loss for words now, I don’t know how to link it so
there’s actually a reason to list the demons out. 8.35am. The demons would
explain most of why I am the way I am, but only if it wasn’t just phrased so I
can play the blame game. Persuasion is not the motivation of this exposition.
Maybe I need some liquid courage. Maybe I should have been religious so I have
random people to be emotionally dependent on. Maybe I’ll write another some
other time. First I need to figure out how to get this one read.
This post might sound really depressing, but then I am
rather depressed that I seem to have no terribly good friends with me at this
point in life and haven’t spent the last year very well. In the sense that I
see no way of fixing this predicament other than to shove it all into the
denial bin and continue on with life. That’s what “Forgive and Forget” means
right? But the demons remain and I remember them all. And forget fun times when
I don’t have the photos to recall them with. When Dax ‘quit facebook’ I had no
photos of most the France trip, since my camera charger was in the luggage and my
camera was dead after the first 2 days. Most of what I could recount was the
irritations I had suffered; I had trouble even remembering where we visited. Wonder
why I bought my own DSLR? It’s not because I like photography.
Finally, if you made it this far, please make an attempt to
refrain from talking about the contents of this post to anyone, especially me.
Thanks.
