A Mouth Filled with Blood
January 05, 2011
I cannot remember the last time I tried to socialise (other than with Rin, of course). I've grown so afraid of the sheer thought of offending one else or uttering the wrong things under the wrong circumstances or... just being plain moronic. I believe, from past experiences, I have the tendency to make someone feel bad or
look bad and feel horrible myself afterwards. They say it's the way I look, my choice of words and the tone in my voice. So, eventually, I just told myself to bite my tongue, zip my mouth and keep out of trouble. But, obviously I have my limits (even the sky has its limit, okay?). After being wrongly accused for other people's mistakes (such as indecent acts) repeatedly in school, my patience was hanging on by a sliver - it was literally at the back of my throat. I had my last straw when I snapped back at a teacher for her biased treatment towards me, including her occasional remarks on how crappy I was in my papers. Life in school after that was... uh, let's just say horrible would be an understatement. I do have my ways of making my own life difficult. I knew going back to a school I've studied in for the past 5 years and attempting to go low-profile would be a less than a great idea and near impossible. But, like I said earlier, I do feel horrible after such incidents. I apologized to her, not once, not twice, but thrice even though it didn't help make my stay any more comfortable. I hate my heavy conscience. (Gosh, deja vu)
Being an English-educated Chinese, I do have my own intra-racial wars to deal and bare with. Many (Chinese or not) people, if not all think that not knowing your mother-tongue was a disgrace, a waste and if I could sum it all up: a sin. They do not look at me the same as to how they would to a Chinese who knows his/her Chinese. It never fails to have me reminisce on an event back in 2002 where an old Chinese woman, who gaily walked into a government school compound and asked directions from me, a Chinese-inept student. When I told her (nicely and in that few words of Chinese that I knew) that I do not speak Chinese, she stormed off angrily and began to mock my inability under her breath. I do not blame my mom for all this; she did what was best for her family at that point in time, after seeing my brother struggle with his Chinese (he drew turtles, circles, and squares). Occasional mockeries did no substantial damage, but when your peers or supposed 'friends' start to exploit your weakness and mock you in Chinese, not behind you but blatantly upfront for all to hear, it hurts. It bloody hurts like hell. From then up to the present, I have not stopped questioning who, if there was one, was a genuine friend. Though I'm not shy to say my weakness may be a blessing in disguise. It is through this weakness that see past the pretentious fronts that people around me put up. It is through this weakness that I am able to see one's true colours.
I am proud to say that I am a 'banana'.
... as said by Joo
at 12:21 am
