Nastiness Diagnosis. Anthropology. Religion. Gender. Justice. A Personal Notepad For the General Public.
I left things behind. Sherlock Holmes 2% left. Brothers Karamazov since 33% Intact. Between 11/27 and 12/9, I cried less and less. Twice, yesterday, after I got back in Kaohsiung. Zero, today.
I went to the traditional market to buy some raw food to cook. I felt I could do things I have never done before, such as buying chicken in the traditional market (I only did so in the supermarket, first in the US, then back in Taiwan). But I also was trying to do something that can distract me. Fruit picking, cooking, vegetable cutting, dish washing, and cleaning.
I re-listened to the New Yorker Fiction podcast, love, and something else. I listened the Russian story of Nabokov twice during the trip back to Kaohsiung from Taichung.
The world has lost its color and things have become insignificant. I feel I can take some time do some other things that I didn’t allow myself to do normally. Like what? I actually also think I should do things that I always do, like the psychologist who told me to do so in order to recover from severe depression back in 2011 in Ann Arbor.
I cleaned the room.
I am so tired, and yet energetic.
I can do many things, because time no longer matter.
But I still have to read the articles that I have to teach graduate students tomorrow. I still have to prepare for the talk next Wednesday in Nantou at the only graduate school of Southeast Asian Studies in Taiwan. But my heart is not there, I am keeping myself from my heart by the means of these mechanical things. My heart, burned, hard to get close to or even look at.
My mother said that I should have felt more positively, since I did accompany her mother for 2 more years after I have returned to the island. I would have felt much worse if I was still in the U.S.
True, I told her that I told my uncle the same thing. But I thought she was gonna recover, and last, even if only for a few more months. It still came as a shock, despite the fact that I had been told by the doctor and those dear aunts that now death was anytime, and there was no reason to be too confident.
I was crushed, and yet forced to accept it. What else can I do, except be a better person. I will go to church, wearing grandma’s clothes, for God knows how long.
I will honor her, for she was the most important person in the world, no matter how utterly different we were, and how limited our communication has always been. She was a great character, and I wish I would be that great some day.
That kind, soft, tough, stubborn, pious and cheerful.
And yet don’t romanticize things. For there was an aunt who has devoted herself to taking care of grandma day and night for three whole years. There must be pains and fatigue that we don’t know. Love and warmth that I could never obtain. So I pray to God that she is blessed further.
Pray that I will be kind, soft, tough, stubborn, pious, and cheerful, like the light of the world.