I'm Not Sorry, It's Human Nature
The new tenant moved in today. A guy. I think his name is Zhirong. I only saw him for a moment before I left the house. Alright kinda guy, chinese and pretty decent in appearance. But when I came back, he asked to speak to me in private. So I invited him into my room, then I said he could speak. He found it hard to begin, but when he did, it was hard for me to take in.
He found my diary entry, the single sheet that fell out from my book, the one I was frantically trying to find for a few months now. He spoke in detail how he found it sick that I could think of such things, that I could want my ex-boyfriend to "come to the breasts of a much older woman, and take her milk for gall". He was disgusted, and after that talk, he packed his bags and left. Honestly, that older woman thing was just a misquoted line from Macbeth. And I was obviously angry at that moment. Sigh. These unread people. Better for him to leave then.
Over the next few days, another new tenant moved in. A young woman named Candice. As usual, I briefed her of the house rules, and I had to leave for a meeting. I certainly did not anticipate my welcome home.
Coming back and stepping into my room, Candice stormed in with that single sheet in her clenched fist. She was practically boiling over. How the hell did she get it? She fumed about how she saw a piece of paper fluttering about and landing halfway behind my cupboard (and what was she doing in my room anyway?!!). Thus she picked it up and read it.
She said she found it insulting. I told her it was not her business to go around treading on private property, then she exploded! She was screaming about how I shouldn't write about other people that way, and that we as humans ought to have nothing but love for each other. I told her she was crazy, then she shoved me! We started struggling, I'm telling you, crazy people are strong! I was really fighting back, trying to push her to the ground so I can pin her down. Then out of the blue, she pulled out a syringe full of clear liquid. She aimed it at me, and the needle stuck in my arm for a moment then she pulled it out in our tussle and some of the squirting liquid got into my eye as well.. I got to say it here. BLOODY HELL!
My eye started to slack. The effect was immediate. It started to lose muscle control, and somehow I could see myself. My slack eye was looking to the ground and I saw a mix of half-floor half-crazy-girl-coming-for-me. My arm lost its strength too, and I was freaking out. What the hell was happening? What did she do to me! Candice started freaking out too. She started screaming, that crazy girl. Then the last thing I said to her was,"It's just a diary entry, for goodness sake!!"
He found my diary entry, the single sheet that fell out from my book, the one I was frantically trying to find for a few months now. He spoke in detail how he found it sick that I could think of such things, that I could want my ex-boyfriend to "come to the breasts of a much older woman, and take her milk for gall". He was disgusted, and after that talk, he packed his bags and left. Honestly, that older woman thing was just a misquoted line from Macbeth. And I was obviously angry at that moment. Sigh. These unread people. Better for him to leave then.
Over the next few days, another new tenant moved in. A young woman named Candice. As usual, I briefed her of the house rules, and I had to leave for a meeting. I certainly did not anticipate my welcome home.
Coming back and stepping into my room, Candice stormed in with that single sheet in her clenched fist. She was practically boiling over. How the hell did she get it? She fumed about how she saw a piece of paper fluttering about and landing halfway behind my cupboard (and what was she doing in my room anyway?!!). Thus she picked it up and read it.
She said she found it insulting. I told her it was not her business to go around treading on private property, then she exploded! She was screaming about how I shouldn't write about other people that way, and that we as humans ought to have nothing but love for each other. I told her she was crazy, then she shoved me! We started struggling, I'm telling you, crazy people are strong! I was really fighting back, trying to push her to the ground so I can pin her down. Then out of the blue, she pulled out a syringe full of clear liquid. She aimed it at me, and the needle stuck in my arm for a moment then she pulled it out in our tussle and some of the squirting liquid got into my eye as well.. I got to say it here. BLOODY HELL!
My eye started to slack. The effect was immediate. It started to lose muscle control, and somehow I could see myself. My slack eye was looking to the ground and I saw a mix of half-floor half-crazy-girl-coming-for-me. My arm lost its strength too, and I was freaking out. What the hell was happening? What did she do to me! Candice started freaking out too. She started screaming, that crazy girl. Then the last thing I said to her was,"It's just a diary entry, for goodness sake!!"
posted by Nicolette Yuen at 10:38 pm
2 Comments:
"It's just a diary entry, for goodness sake!!"
Yes, that would certainly assuage most people.
Like, "hullo?! Reality check!!"
Haha.
The words that remind the storm it lives only in a tea cup.
The calm that takes the wind out of sails.
The serenity that numbs you when you're done crying.
Hmm.
But wait.
"It's just a diary entry, for goodness sake!!"
Is there really such a thing as "just a diary entry"?
...
...
Now, that would be like saying "you're just staring into my deep, brown eyes".
Your eyes are not 'seeing instruments'. They are a window to your soul.
Like a diary.
And worse, by staring into your deep, brown eyes not only do I look into your soul.
You look back.
Into mine.
No wonder people cannot bear to look you in the eye when you look back into theirs. And they realise you see right through them.
No wonder people get upset when they read your diary entry, and they realise it says more about their lives, than yours.
Diary entries stand true at that moment of writing.
When finger tips are trembling from nervous activity.
It was a reality then.
But when I read back to that once upon a time,
I wonder in amusement that I ever went through that.
That reality exists no more.
Hence, it's just a diary entry. Another scrap of writing.
I've got more to say to you, you have triggered more writings.
You are right though. And in a personal way, so am I.
When I close my eyes, I hope to see your story.
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