12 August 2012: Another Idiotic Collections of words

by jcyf94

Being an idiot’s parents is not easy, especially if the idiot had been perceived as some sort of protegy fugure since he was a child. The culture I grew up with and live in now would have people concluding the following: it is a karma thing. The parents must have done things so devious that they deserve whatever it is that is coming to them, regardl…ess the truth. The idiot , who was perceived as gifted but “arrogant”, became an idiot because he must have disobey whatever that is he should have obeyed and defied whoever it is that he should have volunteered to be submitted. That is how I undertand the culture in which I grew up with. The responsibility to the misfortunes and ill fates falls completely on the shoulders of the family; it has nothing to do with human factors but only devine interventions.

I am an idiot now, based on my perception of others’ perceptions to common sense.  I ruined my reputation because I deserve to; my parents suffer agony and humiliation because they deserve to. Almost everyone can make up the supposed reasons why we deserve our “punishments”. I had been using writing as the tool to calm my repressed rage and tenderize my accumulated hatred, and one day, I found myself watching all my concealed emotions and thoughts being bare naked in public for the passerbies to speculate and opine about. Schadenfreude is a German word, and many language do not have the eauivalent expressions for such phenominon. They forgot to ask a Chinese expert. or anyone Chinese on the street.

幸災樂禍. Everybody knows the term and most are quite familiar withsuch emotions and quite skilled at transforming such emotions into a cutural reflex. Shadenfreude soes not exist in the subconscious level in my culture; it is unspoken, but accepted behavioral reflex. I expect to get trampled and laughed at when I happen to fall hard on the ground. I just recently realized that it is more universal and common than I thought. Kick them when they are down. Not a noble concept, but being noble is also universally despised.

I hate complaining. I never write to complain because I was taught that people hate complainers and always know that it accomplish nothing but invite admosity and distain only. I never thought of the possibility that one day, my inner sanctuary wiould be occupied and my privacy would be regarded as somebody else’s personal toy.

I know who I will go after if, and a big if, I am lucky enough to survive  and overcome the crises right in front of my eyes. I never held contempt for long; I am naturally averse to hatred. I guess someone has taken it as a weakness; now, I do not think I will ever learn to unlearn how to hate. People who forced that on me are the exact ones whom I am eager to go after, very very badly.

“Thank that which has tormented you.” This is a popularsaying these past few years. I guess I can pretend to fake such gratitude. Deep in my heart, I know it is another attempt to turn the masses into masochists and sub-species. There is no reason to thank them; you go after them as a group and purge them one by one. Otherwise, if you buy such nonsense, you are forever bound to be enslaved. There are too many people with such inborn slave mentality, and I say it is enough. You go after sadists with ruthlessness and brutality, not with love and gratitude. I hope to God I get to not just say that but to practice it oneday with all my remaining might.

There is no angry words and thoughts. Hatred does not work that way.