Tainan is the city that I am living now. It steals my money, but it also pays me back. During the day, the sound of constructions disturbs me since 7am in the morning. Hell, why do they need to build more buildings? It is a tight place, it doesn’t fit anyone anymore. The traffic and agressive drivers try to kill you. In the end of day, you are glad you are still alive and safe. Oh Tainan, my love, you despise my heart, you spit on my face with betel nuts’ juice, but you never tell me to leave.You give me guts to survive despite all the shit that happens daily. I love your beach Tainan. If you drawn someday, please take my body with you. Don’t bury my body in your ground. Because I don’t want to be a tree in the next life. I want to be a mortal mermaid. I want to be prettier than any gogo dancers. So, you will never leave me Tainan.
Yeah, I got guts. I just paid 1 week stay for a hostel in the middle of nowhere. I don’t know what it is going to happen with my job. I didn’t tell the manager that I would take a short vacation. Because she probably wouldn’t let me go right now. But, I need it. How many people don’t wish to do the same as I did sometimes? I don’t hate my job. I just hate the time consuming, and I need to write. I don’t make any fucking penny with my writings. I can’t understand why there are still people complaining how my writings are disgusting, rubbish or boring. By the way, I decided to run away from the city to see if my brain will work in a calm place. But, I was totally wrong. I feel like a shit in this farming area. I hate the smelling of cows, chicken and pigs. The hostel is not exactly a hostel. It is someone’s house who rents rooms. This is my second day, and I want to leave. Obviously, the house landlord is not going to return the rest of my money. So, what should I do? I said I had guts at the beggining to take a vacation without telling my boss. But now, I am very covard to return at work, and explain why I was gone for few days. What should I say? Maybe “I was sick”. They will ask for my medical bill. “I had an accident?” No, karma will come if I lie in this way. Should I just take a risk and tell them the true? “I left the work for few days because I wanted some vacation. But, I am a motherfucker for not telling you all because I was wondering wether you guys will agree or not.” All they will do is firing me, or just telling me how I am an irresponsible and unprofessional idiot. It is really not a big deal nearly to my stupid decisions.
It is almost 1am in the morning, and I am here being disturbed by the sound of geckos. For the first time in my life, I want to be a serial killer. I can see three geckos running, and making the fucking bird noises. It is easy for me to use a flip flop. But, I wanna see them dying slowly. I want to see them suffering. Because I feel they are using some sarcasm for my failed attempt to become a writer. I have some tapes here. I would tape them, cut their tails with a scissor, and see how they would react. Then, I would remove the tape, peal off their skins, and settle them on fire. Oh Lord, what is wrong with me? I don’t have anyone to blame. Now, I am gonna blame the poor geckos. Guess what? Damn those geckos! I just opened the window, picked the three of them and thrown them away. At least, I didn’t kill them. But, I am a little bit regret. I should have thrown them in the toilet and flushed them away. Finally, I can concentrate myself and write nothing.
It is not easy to be a writer. First, you need to learn if this is what you really want to do. If yes, keep writing and the rest is bullshit. When you attend a college, you always need to complete at least 6 credits of English Classes to graduate. I passed those classes with “B” even though I have never really read all the short stories they made me to read. Sometimes, I would just write my research papers pretending I read those stories. I would just use few sentences from the text, and give a definition based on my own opinions. Yeah, I know I sucked as a student. But, how about the professors? They made me to read “Hills like White Elephants”, and “The Country of the Blind”. Well, I read them. But, I couldn’t handle “William Shakespeare”. I am not criticizing the authors. Nowadays, I would read these stories with pleasure. I would reread them to stop my misjudgement. However, I don’t consider a freshman reading these stories or books. A prodigy teenager or old soul wannabe would enjoy these readings. But, not a recent High School graduate who still listens Britney Spears’ songs. That person was me. You might say how I was very immature. But, how old was I? 18 or 19? How many kids do you really consider very mature at this age? Well, I left my parents house to live in the campus. I had a part-time job in the library while other students were joining fraternities, partying every night and smoking weed. I would spend my time writing and drawing.
I never had any dreams to publish a book. My mother did. She was a freelance writer in a local Asian newspaper. Her writings were so popular that she become a columnist. I played some parts in her job. I was her translator because we used to live in South America, not in Taiwan. I was 20 years old at the time I walked with her to interview the city’s mayor. My mom was one of the independent writers who received more compliments than criticisms. Of course, she caused lots of local envies. On the other hand, she always had an overprotective daughter to defend her. Lately, I become the Asian Community’s bad girl. If my mother was disrespected, I would curse on those old people. I am not going in details how my life was after these events. All I know, I had to move away from the country. I chose USA to live because my dad lives there. My life in USA was easy, I didn’t know anybody. Although English Language was not my second language, attending college was easy for me. I just failed in Chemistry because I always sucked in this subject. I had the idea of writings because I needed to communicate with myself. I would visit people’s blog and see what was going on. So, I decided to write my first livejournal in 2005. But, I was afraid how people will think about me. This made me to give up so many times. Today, I don’t care anymore. I don’t care who is reading this, or what they think about me. I am just who I am. I am not perfect, and I don’t wanna be.
One of my best friends is 20 years older than I. He is a male, and he is married. Yep, we are JUST friends. We share the same interests, and we trade gifts. His wife totally knows and understands about our friendship. Our friendship is something genuine and sincere. I always told him things that I normally don’t share with others. Even though the most shameful things that happened to me, he knows. He and his wife are going to travel to California. I am so happy for them. I hope they make a wonderful trip because they deserve. They are wonderful people, so they deserve the best. Yesterday, I was speaking to him that I could be a little bit jealous in a positive way. The world is having fun while I am here with my chronic depression.
Once, I met a guy at the bar. He was the only guy I wanted to date since my moving to Taiwan. This guy just returned to Canada. When people are back to the place they come from, they always reconnect with anyone they don’t speak for a long time. They reconnect with friends, family and even ex-gfs. He is back with his ex-gf, so happy and taking sweet pictures.Perhaps I am jealous, but I wished things happened differently between us. I do not expect a relationship that lasts long. But, I am tired of guys using me. I don’t hang out with anyone. He was the only guy I wanted to be with since my moving to Taiwan. Because I knew he was different. He plays a good role model of someone who went to Africa to volunteer, and teach kids with HIV. He seems a good person, but he didn’t seem so nice while we were together. He was violent. He would force me to do things I didn’t want, and I had to confront him to make him to stop. I am here depressed because he acts like a normal person. This makes me to blame myself, and I believe it was NOT my fault. I know it wasn’t. For some people, maybe a girl should never go to bars alone. If I start thinking this way, this means I am so weak to give up of breaking stereotypes.
I am a free and independent woman. I have a nice and decent full time job. I make my own living. So,I deserve to do what other people do. I deserve to be respected, and not violated. I am not always proud of myself because I act stupid sometimes. But, I know this world is full of hypocrites. I am not gonna say I have never acted this way. But, I have never taken advantage of someone. It could emotionally, financially, mentally or physically. I have been always honest with people. My life is full of chaos and emotional dramas. But, I will die with dignity.