Category Archives: Because of Love

As My Husband Got, Possessed

The ELECTRA complex, coming full-circle again, and this time, her ass didn’t get, kicked by it!  Translated…

To tell the truth, if my husband got possessed, there’s, nothing I can do.

After my father passed, his things weren’t what I could handle, thankfully, I’d only needed to hint at my husband, he’d, understood me, and, went to my mother’s home to sort out my father’s things with me.  Those things that remained, were of my mother’s, too, and what us, sisters, left behind at our parents’ home after we were married and moved out.

Lost track of how many days it’d taken for us to clear things up, only that my husband saw this, and that, and told me, that we could use them in the futures.  To thank him for helping me out, I can only ask, “you sure?  Don’t stack the items all over the places at home.”  He’d patted his chest, “don’t worry about it!”

A lot of things, by first look, I’d known, wasn’t my mother’s, must’ve been the “treasures” my father discovered somewhere.  My father became demented in the elderly years, I’d guessed at his path to collecting the items, guessed that maybe what he’d, picked up were those, lost dreams of his.  But, I suppose, my husband won’t have those, symptoms, thankfully, all he’d brought back from my parents’ home were put up nice and neat.  It’s, just that afterwards, things became, a bit, weird.

When there were the large items taken out by the curb that’s waiting to get, recycled, my husband would study them, to see if they’re, worth, something, even if there were the parts that he’d found useful, he’d, taken the things apart, and brought it back home.  But he’d not stacked these junks all over the place, so I’d, turned a, blind eye to his ways, and, not nagged him over them.

One day, he’d made him home earlier in his early morning exercises, entered in from the driveway, with a few iron rods on his arms, strutted in like a warrior who’d won some prizes.  Because of the angle of the sunlight, I couldn’t see him.  He’d called out before I said anything to stop him, “You’re only getting up and going to the markets now?”, I got awakened suddenly, “WHAT is it this time?”, he’d stayed calm, “this is good metal, it’s zinc plated, it wouldn’t become rusted up”.  He’d strutted forward without stopping, and, brushed by me, and pressed the elevator button to go upstairs.  And, my useless awakeness, left me, speechless then.

He was about to take in a preowned desktop, and, there were already, the occupants on his desk and I became troubled where to put it, and it was like he’d, suddenly remembered the location of a treasure he’d stashed somewhere, long, ago, flipped out the board he brought from my parents’ home, the parts he dissembled of the machine from the side of the roads, took him two days, he’d actually, made a computer desk with the extensions that’s the flexi sort.  Although, it wasn’t an original that fitted with the computer, but, he’d spent nothing on the parts, and, what he’d made actually, worked, how can I not, hooray him?

One day he’d come home from his walk, and, he’d gone into the bathroom as he’d come in.  I had my back to the door, felt him, stealthily, behind me, but, I was into my book and didn’t care, then, the water running from the faucet in the bathrooms, and there’s the rustling of scrubbing something.  Turned out, he’d made his way back out of our home, to bring in a screen door he’d found.  I’d thought about my mother’s complaints when she was still alive, “your father NEVER dared bring home the things he’d found, and, as he saw me busying in the kitchen, then, he’d, opened the door, to move what he’d picked up on his walk in.”  I’d caught him all right: “hey!  Why are you, moving this screen door in?”, he was working hard, scrubbing away, without lifting his head, “I’d already measured the size, this is the exact fit for the window frame of our front balcony, that way, the bugs can’t, get in.”  that screen door we had, was blown off by the typhoons many, many years ago, and now, he’d feared that the bugs would get into our home, it’s for my benefit, and I should, thank him.

Two days ago on the way home by bus from my grocery trip, I’d stared out the windows to see the views along the way.  Half way up the mountains here was, a man in a white shirt, loose casual pants with his wrists together behind his back—that stature, those clothes, is it, dad?  What, it’s past the month of the opening of the gates of hell, thankfully he’d, took that baseball cap that belonged tour son, for me, to confirm that it was, my husband.  SHIT!  Is it, possessed now?

Thinking on it, both him and my father were, tall men from the north, and both were of the same ranks in the armed services too.  When the left sock had a hole, my husband would switch the sock to wear on his right foot for a bit, then, toss it out, when my father was in his eighties, he’d had me use the threads and needles to patch up the holes in HIS socks too.  He’d worn those two outfit at home, and, always silent at home like that shadow that lurked, and, as they both met some stranger and chatted it up, they couldn’t, stop talking to the unknown strangers they just, met.  Both enjoyed noodles, and traditional Chinese buns, never picky on food, as the purpose of food served the only purpose of satisfying their, hungers.

Did I, use my father as a prototype, and I’d, found my, husband?  And, that figure that looked EXACTLY like my father, who was actually, my own, husband, and I’d, thought about how he was, possessed by my own, deceased father from before, then, my lips, curled up into a, smile.

So, the Electra complex still came full-circle here, we select our husbands, based off of the prototypes of our own father, and we can NEVER escape this, and this woman found the “shadows” of her own father in her husband, and, it’s like she still has her father with her, even after he was, gone, because her husband IS the exact replica of her own, dear old, dad!

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Filed under Because of Love, Life, Marriages, Observations, Perspectives, Philosophies of Life, Properties of Life, Theories & Applications

The Jealous Man Taken into Custody for Forcing the Adversary to Hold a Firecracker that Caused the Man to Lose Three Fingers

As the green-eyed monster, took control over him, and, aggravated assault, was the result of this, particular, case, off of the Front Page Sections, translated…

The man, Wang was upset over how his girlfriend fell for another man, two nights ago, called the adversary, Chen out, had eight others to ambush beforehand, forced Chen to take the firecrackers in his hand, then, Wang lit it up, it’d blown off three of Chen’s fingers; as Wang and eight others saw, they’d run off scattered, and was caught one by one by the police, after the D.A. interrogated Wang, the courts took him into custody, with the eight accomplices charged with public endangerment.  Chen was rushed to the hospital, not in life-threatening danger, his fingers were reconnected through surgery.

The Puzi Substation of Taoyuan Police Station received a call by the locals at 11:17 two evenings ago, that next to the McDonalds there was a loud explosion, that there was a man injured, the police and fire department rushed over, found the twenty-nine-year-old Chen’s left index, middle, and ring fingers blown off his hand, they’d rushed him to the E.R. immediately.

The police found, that tis was a crime related to love, they’d reviewed the street surveillance, and zoomed in on the thirty-two-year-old Wang, who was arrested at fifteen past midnight last night, they’d found the steel bullet, the gun, and the lighter in the form of a gun, then identified the eight other accomplices, in two hours, they were all arrested.

The police found, that because Wang’s ex started dating Chen, the two men became jealous of one another, Wang called his ex and Chen out to resolve things, right before the incident; as Chen showed up, Wang and his gang subdued him, Wang pulled out the gun with the steel bullets threaten Chen to take an unknown explosive in his left hand, then, the group of men, detonated the device using a gun-shaped lighter, with three fingers blown off Chen’s hand, then, the group dissipated.

As Wang went into the police station, he’d claimed, that the explosive he used was a sort of a fire cracker, that Chen brought, that he’d lit it up himself, but the locals testified that it was Wang who lit up the device, and ran to the side to hide; because Chen was outnumbered, and may have underestimated the explosive, didn’t let go on time, and got injured.

Because the explosive was completely destroyed, the police is still trying to figure out the ingredients, to see if the men had broken the laws on owning explosives; the police charged Wang and eight others on aggravated assault, gang fight, and other charges, sent the nine into the D.A.’s offices, and they’re working the case as an organized crime case.

And so, this all started, as an upset in love, because this man was upset over how the woman who used to love him fell out of love with him, and in love with another, that’s what got him started on revenge, and, because he let his jealousy go over his head, that’s why he’d attacked the adversary, using a fire cracker, and now, he and his gang will all be charged with aggravated assault!

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Filed under Awareness, Because of Love, Crime & Punishment, Love Became Revenge, Properties of Life, STUCK in a Cookie Jar, Unrequited Love, Wake Up Calls, White Picket Fence

Ms. Kobayashi

How we were raised, by your, unconditional, love, translated…

Ms. Kobayashi comes from the city of Taipei, she’s a fashionable, and pretty woman.  The year, 1951, she worked as a nurse at N.T.U. Hospital, was in love with her husband who’s looking after his classmate who was hospitalized, and started a relationship with him and married to him.  Afterwards, Ms. Kobayashi moved with him to Chiayi, to a small town called Minghsiung.  This marriage was said to, shock the entire localities—a modern woman from Taipei, marrying a poor teacher from the countryside.

Originally, all their neighbors thought, that that this woman from the city couldn’t withstand a life in the countryside, how was she going to be able to, shoulder an entire extended families’ expectations?  But, being slender and tall, she’d carried one child on her back, with an infant in her arms, and, stir-fried the foods, tackled all the tasks that her mother-in-law had, assigned, to her, never called out in aches and pains, nor that she was tired, not even, a word of, complaint from her, she’d, started, looking after the entire, extended, family then.

a family like this…photo from online

Back then, in the means of tradition, the people believed, that having sons, to carry on the families’ last names, is the duties of the daughters-in-law, and so, after she had four daughters straight, Ms. Kobayashi’s in-laws pressured her hard, she’d often cried when no one was looking.  Her gentle husband told her to ignore his parents’ requests, but, being highly educated, thought-forward, she was still willing to keep on trying for that son for the sake of love, and tradition, and finally, she got her wish, finally, a youngest son, and so, Ms. Kobayashi has four daughters, and a, son, along with her loving husband, and the family of seven lived on, happily.

In those days of poverty-stricken means, to keep the closely aged five children alive, the couple worked really hard, to make their ends meet.  Her husband, other than taking the teaching offers all around, he’d also planted the fruits, for that extra income, while Ms. Kobayashi had, scrounged up all she could, a little here, a little, there, no longer was she into the high-end shops, no longer did she buy the Pond’s face cream at the counter (in those days, Pond’s was the high-end brand), instead, she’d used the loofa lotions, nor did she buy an article of clothing for herself—and even so, Ms. Kobayashi is still glowing with beauty, with that, scent of, elegance about her.

Ms. Kobayashi sacrificed her own means of life, and, gave her five children a perfect childhood, with all the foods, all the needs, fulfilled.  In the fieldtrips of the elementary years, her kids must’ve asked her for the pricy Washington Red apples and Playgum, at this time, she’d become this loving mother in her children’s eyes; she’d also, made sure her children behaved correctly, did well in their schoolwork, and this time, she’d become, a tiger mom that made her children respect her.  And at the time, her second child was often, naughty, often picked on the younger siblings, and he was eighter punished by Ms. Kobayashi by the bamboo stick, or that she’d punished him to get on his knees.  And, on top of that, this second born was developmentally delayed, and Ms. Kobayashi had made the rulers herself, used the matchsticks to teach him to count, and even as she’d worked so hard to train him, in the second grade, he’d still answered the multiple choice questions using X and O, it’d, made her had a hard time.  At the end of the semester, all of the other siblings all received the awards certificates, the rewards, and to make sure that this secondborn doesn’t feel overlooked, she’d taken the prize to school for her second child’s teacher to give it to him.  Thankfully, the secondborn was only slow to start, in the middle school, he’d quickly caught up in his intelligence, and, this part of the past of the second child, became the butt of the joke that the families would talk of at the meal gatherings.

And now, Ms. Kobayashi is eighty-eight, from a young mother, to a grandmother, and a, great-grandmother, but the years never left its track on her face, she’d still, have that, grace about her.  And, even though she’d now become, immobile, in a wheelchair for close to ten years, she’d still insisted on making herself up pretty, her voice is bright and loud and strong.  Her face always smiling, she’s bright and optimistic, using her own actions to show her younger generations: this world is still beautiful, even if things that are bad come our ways, we should still, enjoy our lives, and love.

“Ms. Kobayashi” is what that secondborn who got into tons of trouble, I referred to her as.  In my eyes, she’s like a fairy, pretty and kind.  And now, I’d often hugged her, kissed her, as she’d done with me when I was little.  In my childhood, she had it too hard because of me, and now, in my elderly years, I’m that man who’d dressed up to entertain the parents, as her company, stuck to her side, making her laugh, hoping, that mom would feel that I was the gift from heaven to her, that I was worth her, having it hard for me.

And so, this is a perfect example of giving back to the ones who’d raised us with their love, because this older generation had loved this child of hers unconditionally, despite how much troubles she got in, the mother continued to love the children unconditionally, which is what made the offspring now, willing, to return the kindness back, and this is the cycle of love of kindness, that passes from one generation to the next.

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Filed under A Cycle of Kindness, Because of Love, Family Dynamics, Family Matters, Life, Perspectives, Philosophies of Life, Properties of Life

The Handmade Gift Pouches with Love

How when you take the time, to make the gifts yourselves, and not just go out and buy things for each other, it’d become, that much more, meaningful to the, recipient of the presents you give to them, translated…

Every year as the year came to an end, the Chinese knot instructor, Mrs. Shih would always design a gift pouch, used the electric sewing machines to stitch the blessings on it…coinciding with the coming Chinese zodiac, to give us a ton of blessings of the new year.

What’s behind these gift pouches, was some ten odd years back, as Mrs. Shih was searching for the materials to use for her classes, she’d accidentally stumbled upon a ribbon manufacturing plant; the owner, due to the western art styles taking over, didn’t want to follow what was trending them, and barely made his shop run.  Afterwards, Mrs. Shih was asked to design the gift pouches for the small town, and that was how she’d helped the man’s business to continue.  The unique gift pouches hit off the market right away, the ribbon factory received many more orders, and found its, rebirth.  Several years ago, in the pleas of the students in the class, there’s the renewed thought of the gift pouches for the new year, Mrs. Shih said sentimentally, that every year, the designs are a form of self-challenge, also, the thought of being on amicable terms with the local industries as well.

something like, this???

from online

The designs that Mrs. Shih made, are with that scent of celebration to them, and still carried that elegance.  While, the blessings, the wishes for safe passages through the year, already gotten placed into every one of these gift pouches as they were being made.

Every year, I would have the extra sets of gift pouches to give to my loved ones, also, mailed some to my friend’s daughter who’s studying in the U.S. as well, the girl was so happy, and what she’d looked most forward to, was this, tiny present that’s filled with the celebration of the brand new year, and she’d shared this gift pouch with her American friends too.  These years, as I saw the gift pouches, it was like that joy that came to me as I was able to get the zodiac stamps at the post office, but what’s different was: in the pouches, there was the thoughtfulness from my tying up the Chinese knot art, and what’s worth the keepsake, is the warmth of the memories that’s stored inside these, gift, pouches.

And so, this is how much thought goes into giving the presents that’s handmade, and, that just showed, that you do NOT need to spend a whole lot of money, that you can make something for someone that you love, and, the recipient of these gifts will surely, appreciate the act of you taking the time, to make the gifts for them yourselves, and it also won’t put that huge damper on your bank accounts.

It’s the thought that goes into these handmade personalized gifts that you give to someone that mattered to the recipients, the most.

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Filed under Because of Love, Expectations, Life, Perspectives, Philosophies of Life


This space, that’s, saved, for us to have, to come back to, to gather in, a point of our, origins…translated…

The first few years, the entire building carried that flair.  With the different expectations of future, my eldest and youngest aunts, my third older uncle, my father all, redecorated the second, third, fourth floor balcony.  Pushing the balcony out, adding that extra loft on the rooftop, and, extending the originally elongated shape of the apartment backward more, the stacks, the layers, all of the spaces in existence, all carried, that thickness of, expectation.  Unfortunately, the deformed old apartment, no matter how hard it’d tried, to upkeep the older generations’ dreams, still can’t, carry the younger generations’ expectancies of their, futures; and so, what remained, that’s still with the flairs, is the, humidifier that buzzed on, endlessly, echoing, inside, that old, home.

I’d heard the elders’ stories, of how four, five decades ago, as they were starting to build this apartment, the whole town was mast of all old-style one-story residential homes, back then, all the materials for the constructions are bought by the families individually, hiring the construction workers to help build the place, with the family members, supervising the building process.  And, because of this, when the major earthquakes came, even though the residential homes are already decades old, without the anti-quake designs, looking at the cracks, down the walls, my father always looked, quite, relaxed, told me, there’s nothing to worry about, this old home, that it was as if, the family’s watching over, no matter what, we are, going to be, just, fine.

For decades, the earthquakes, hadn’t, damaged our home much, even though, the exteriors told a complete, different, story, but I keep on believing, that like the depth of connection of my father’s generations, no matter if the exterior walls are damaged, the materials within the walls are still, sturdy and strong, holding onto the ground of this, small, town.

illustration from

And yet, maybe it’s also because of this, the older generations seemed to lack that sense of the future, that as we’d grown our legs, we will, eventually, leave this, apartment that they’d rooted down, in.  During those years of economical wellbeing, the older generations had, pushed the apartment floor plans outward, expanded, maybe, they’d wanted the families that lived there to have more comfortable space, then, they’d started imagining, that after their sons married and have children, the space would NOT get big enough for everybody to say, that if their daughters, and sons-in-law moved back in too, they won’t have their own private and independent, space, and there would also be the, next generations to, consider too……….the original tiny balcony behind the kitchen, got remade into, an independent tiny living room, and a separate suite, for those who lived higher up, the stairs were set up, connecting the, independent, space, carefully, guarding the privacy, and also, connecting the entire, family.

I’d contemplated, what was in the mind of the, older generations, in setting up the homes for us, the younger generations, who haven’t figured out, the uncertainties of our, separate, futures.  And, as these new spaces never got taken up, did they find alternative uses for them then?  Or, after many years, it’d stayed, vacant, the places that the older generations would go and sweep up every now and then, dreaming of how their younger generations who are living in other cities, might come home on the weekends or the holidays for a, short, stay?

These vacant rooms, based off of the building codes, they’d become, illegal spaces after 1995, although, there’s no demands for immediate demolition, but, they can’t, be altered again.  Thinking on this, our generations are, probably with the best years of the family’s history, there was that huge group of elders who’d, worked really hard, to ensure that we have something they never had for our, futures, and, even though, we, the younger generations of cousins, no longer live in that, same apartment complex, we still have this place that’s, unchanged, that can’t be, altered, that just, stayed right where it is, waiting for us, who want to, return to it.

So, this is the idea of, an, “ancestral home”, a space that the families can share, that’s left to, everybody in the family, for the extended families to have a space to share, and any of the family members who’d, needed, that temporary stay when they come back to town.

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Filed under Because of Love, Family Dynamics, Family Matters, Life, Perspectives, Philosophies of Life, Values

Rewriting the Scripts of Her Own, Life

The twists and turns of this woman’s life, that’s led her down that hard road, and now, she’s, finally able to live better, with a brand new love in her life here, after her husband back home cheated on her with another, the story of a migrant worker, translated…

We’d hired two separate nurse’s aides to help look after our mother, one from Indonesia, the other, from, Vietnam.  They were both amazing cooks, kind and gentle, like our families, we’d, gotten connected and close with them both.

Li who’s from Indonesia was only twenty-one, with her parents, her husband, and a son back home, she’d come to Taiwan to find a better way to provide for her families, I’d seen her on the phones, wiping her tears away, it’d impacted me to see, how young she was, and she’d, already, tasted the bitterness of being separated from her, loved ones.

On the weekends, everybody returned home, Li would fix the dishes from her home country for us to taste, sour, and spicy, crisp and appetizing, those who loved the spicy foods will totally love it. What was impressive was, she’d learned to cook the Taiwanese foods well, and my mother had nothing but good things to say about her, she was full of confidence, as she’d told us, that after she returned to Vietnam, she will operate a small diner, to take the business of the Taiwanese tour groups especially.  Li’s husband, every time as her payday came, would rush her to wire the amounts back home to him, I’d thought, that she needed to prepare herself, and advised that she saved some of what she’d earned here in an account of her own, to not wire everything back home to her husband, in case.  “It’s fine, I trust my husband, he is planning on building a home for us, he needed the amount to buy the lot and the materials to build up our home.”  Other than buying the coffees, the magazines, she’d not spent any other amounts, and what’s she saving up for?

illustration from

As her term is about to finish, Li’s heart is already home, she’d looked forward to going home to the families, and we all, wished her the best.  But not long afterwards, she’d called us up crying, her husband had long betrayed her, started a new family with his new love, and gambled all the amounts she’d sent back to him to nil.  She’d given everything for family, and in return, she’d, gotten, beaten down, bruised, she’d become, so uprooted, not known what she’s to cling on to to keep on going in her own life.

She’d ended her marriage with her heart broken to pieces, the kids are placed with her own mother, and six months later, Li returned back to Taiwan again, started working at a factory unit as an operator, the factory was close to my home, and she’d come visit us on the weekends.  “Treat here as your own family home then.” I’d recalled the experts’ words listening to the pains of others, accompanying them as they pass through the hardest parts of their lives, that’s, the best sort of console to those in need.

I’d told her, “life is made up of ups and downs, what you’d weathered through, will eventually become experiences to you, do not let the sorrows, the heartbreaks, to kidnap you forever, rather than holding a grudge and giving yourself a difficult time, just, learn to, accept it.”

My neighbor, Mr. Jiang who’d come to my house often to chat, would bump into Li every now and then, he’d lost his wife, she’d, lost her, marriage, they’d shared that common loss of love, they’d looked to each other for that common support of shared experiences of life, but Li’s failed marriage made her fear it.  We’d encouraged her to let go of the past, to pursue her own, happiness.

As Mr. Jiang accompanied her patiently as she slowly healed up, the two married two years afterwards, and because he didn’t have any children of his own, he’d wanted to get Li’s children to live in Taiwan, to give one another a complete, home.  Li’s scripts of life had been rewritten by her, and she’s now, living her, brand new, life.

So this, is how this woman weathered through the trials of her failed marriage of her husband cheating on her, divorcing her, and finally finding that one true love, with a man here, and this still just showed, that fate is kind, to all who wait, that eventually, things will work out, the way it’s, supposed to.

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Filed under Because of Love, Connections, Fate, Infidelities/Being Unfaithful, Life, Perspectives, The Fate of a Woman, Wake Up Calls

Can’t Pay Her Rent, the Single Mother Was Unemployed, & Poisoned Her Own Six-Year-Old Son to Death

Pressed by life, and there was, NO way out that she could see, so she’d, murdered her own young son, then, attempted suicide…tragedy strikes!  Off of the Front Page Sections, translated…

The thirty-six-year-old woman, Hsu and her six-year-old son, were found, lying in their rental suite in Shuling, Hsinbei City two days ago, there were, multiple knife wounds around Hsu’s neck and thorax, she was taken to the hospital for observations, while the young boy had foamed at the mouth, with the livor mortis appearing, already dead; the D.A. and police suspected from the scene, that Hsu had poisoned her own son to death, then, attempted to commit suicide, they’re working the case as a murder.

Based off of investigations, a little over a year ago, Hsu was divorced, took her own six-year-old son to Bade Street, and rented a suite there in the Shulin District.  Hsu works in telemarketing, they’re not well to do, but, they were, getting by.

Two months ago, Hsu was fired from her work, the family sank economically, couldn’t even pay the rent.  The son attended a local elementary school, he’d become absent since the start of this week for three days consecutively, the school couldn’t get in touch with Hsu, and couldn’t get into contact with Hsu’s ex either, at around nine two evenings ago, the ex called Hsu’s parents to call the police, and the landlord, with the man in charge of the local borough went to the rental home of Hsu to break down the door, and saw both Hsu and her son lying in bed.

The boy was dressed, foamed at the mouth, lying on the left side of the bed, no apparent physical injuries on him, with livor mortis setting in; there were four knife cuts around Hsu’s thorax and neck, she was covered in blood, and lay on the right side of the bed, still had a breath in her, but barely, she was then rushed to the hospital, her life was, spared, but she’s in a coma, while her son, died.

There was a cup with unknown liquid on the bedside, a bloodied craft knife found under the right side of the bed.  The police found a final note in Hsu’s iPad.  The child’s father told through a friend, that after they were divorced, he’d still provided for his own son, and had wired $15,000N.T. by the month to Hsu as alimony and child support, and he’d had his son to stay with him every other week.

The preliminary investigation by the police showed, that Hsu may have been overwhelmed with the economic pressures, after she’d murdered her own young, she’d attempted to commit suicide, because she’s not yet awake, the inquiries about what exactly happened will have to wait; the D.A. had selected an alternative day to autopsy the boy, and they’re working the case as a murder.

And so, it seemed, that this woman became too stressed by her economics, and decide to take her own young son with her to die, and she survived, but her own young son had died, and she felt there was no way out of her situations, that’s why she’d, murdered her own young, and attempted to kill herself, and now, as she’s the survivor, she would have to face up to the guilt of murdering her own young.

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Filed under Abandonment of Children, Abuse, Bad Parenting Behaviors, Because of Love, Burying One's Own Child, Children Murdered, Cost of Living, Crime & Punishment, Deaths Caused by Love, Life, Love Became Murder, Murder, Observations, Properties of Life, Right to Life, Tragedies in the World, White Picket Fence

First Dates…

Can I, take you out???

No, but I can, totally, take YOU O-U-T!

And that, was how that first date, began, on the, WRONG feet…

These are, usually awkward (I’m thinkin’, seeing how the only “dates” I had ever had were on their LEASHES, following my lead???), because, you don’t know what you’re supposed to do, you want to leave an impression, but don’t want to sound or make yourselves appear, too desperate (c’mon, I wanna get LAID here!!!), and so, the two of you sat, uneasy, through that supper, and then, following that supper, which the food didn’t taste like anything (b-l-a-h!).

Next comes, that movie, I mean, you gotta go see that newest whatever film you wanted to go, right???

So, the dudes purchased the tickets, and the ladies went to get the popcorns, the snacks, yada, yada, yada…and the two of you, sit in the darkness, and, nothing.

I mean, am I supposed to be, gentlemanly and take her hand, because I’m assuming that she might get freaked, as Freddy Kruger whacked someone on screen?

And then, the night dragged on, two long, the two of you hadn’t spoken any meaningful words to each other, Y-E-T!

Finally, came time to take her home…

So, you took the long way, driving ‘round, thinking, that the night shouldn’t end like this, I mean, you two hadn’t even done ANYTHING that’s, meaningful (define meaningful for me!!!) yet.

But, you ran out of roads to drive down, and so, you scratched your scalp, look down at your Rolexes (you do have one of those, right???), oh wow, it’s this late already, how fast the time flies, then you, drive right below the speed limit (‘cuz you don’t want to leave the bad impressions of not following the traffic rules on your first dates!), and you get that woman home.

And that, would be, how it, W-E-N-T, down that, toilet drain, but hey, don’t worry, “honey” (still the SARCASTIC side of the QUEEN here!), you just might, get a second chance, based off of her evaluation of your performances that night.

Yep, we’re still the ones, DECIDING, IF we want you or not, ‘cuz, it’s a WOMAN’s WORLD, so, DO behave, B-O-Y-S, now, who wants to go out for a run???

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Filed under Because of Love, Humor/Sarcasm, Interpersonal Relations, Life, Observations, Perspectives, Properties of Life, The Observer Effect, White Picket Fence

Visiting New Places with a Young Child

Some free time on our hands, so, let’s, trek the city together, see what we can, find!  On going out with her young daughter, in a new city, trekking, aimlessly, see what they can, encounter on this, adventure, translated…

If you want to know a city, you must, trek it with your feet; even if you’d only, gotten to that tiny corner of the city, you will, hear its, pulses.

That day, my husband was away on business to Taoyuan, my two year-old, who’s a tag-along, a crybaby, and I, followed him out, became his, extra “baggage”.  As we’d arrived, my husband’s gone off on business, and, at a location without the tourist center, naturally, there’s, no routes to follow specified, but Google is all-knowing, turned the two of us into, those two tiny icons that moved on the maps.

In a location of without much management, if you just happened to be pushing a stroller along, it would make the locals notice you.  Sometimes, surprise, “hey, that infant is, smiling AT me!”; sometimes, the pity, “must be hard, carrying all those stuff, and with a baby on her own”, or at least, that’s, what I’d, read into it.  On our way to Tai-Wu New Village, passing through a tiny community, the residences in the alley were too old, with the years quiet, the elderly woman sitting out of her front door suddenly greeted me, “home for a visit”, I’d only, said, “hmmmm!”, as my response, I’m sure, that the elderly couldn’t see me clearly, or, I may, appear like I’m, from here then, then, suddenly, that peace came over my mind.

illustration from

From before when I’d gone out, I’d, trekked on slowly, hang out was, just like this too, you can totally, slow your paces down with a young child, because, the child could care LESS about where you take her/him, and will only, keep on, pulling on your hand to see this, to see that, so basically, the supermarkets could be, a tourist attraction too.

And even if it was the drink shop with the signs, the steams, I’d pointed it out to her, to give a new impression of this world.  For instance, we’d stopped at the native museum, as she’d pointed to the statues of people dancing around in circles and called aloud, “Traditional Taiwanese Stage Show!”, I’d told her, “that’s the dances of the native people!”, then she’d, mumbled to herself, “native dances for the native people, native dances of the, natives!”, she’d always, repeated what we’d told her, and, if she couldn’t find the terms in her tiny mind, she’d asked, “What’s this, tell me!”, so very interesting.

I’d tried my best to find the real “tourist attractions” on the map, and finally, we’d, arrived at the riverside park.  Comparing to all the usual parks, all of these sights, are equally, majestic in my daughter’s young mind, she’d started exclaiming, “Wow!”

Like picking up that kaleidoscope, I’d loved using the angle of my daughter’s views to see the world, hanging out with her, getting along with the cute children, with no destination set, the boring things, can become, cute, and interesting.

And so, this is, what we can find, seeing things, through the eyes of a young child, the child holds that curiosity of life, of everything that surrounds her/him, and has one too many questions to ask us, and, it’s our responsibilities, to satisfy that curiosity of the young children’s, best as we, possibly, can.

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Filed under Because of Love, Interactions Shared with the World, Life, Parent-Child Interactions, Parenting/Parenthood, Philosophies of Life, Properties of Life, Socialization

Fresh Flowers on His Grave

Fresh flowers on his graves, but, it wasn’t, from her, she’d not “visited” him, she’d been, ill herself!

So, who put those flowers there, huh?  She became, curious.

Fresh flowers on his grave, perhaps, she imagined, those little birdies collected the flowers, made them into a ring, and, dropped it here for him (like in those, Disney Princess stories???)…

like this…

photo from online

Fresh flowers on his grave, she’d started wondering, who else do they know, who’d, do such a thing, and she can’t think of anyone, and, she’d let her imagination get the better of her: maybe, he’d had an affair without my knowledge, and the flowers were from, her?  No, not likely, he’d come home, every night, smelling like the factory, no scent of perfume, she’d recalled.

Fresh flowers on his grave, I’d gone to visit him, to give him the updates of my goings on, and, I’d, kissed my hand, and, put my hand down on his headstone, to pass that kiss to him from my hand.

After placing that fresh bundle of flower, I’d, picked up the old ones, and tell his headstone, I’ll, see you, in two week………

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Filed under Because of Love, Life, Loss, Memories Shared, Observations, On Death & Dying, Perspectives, Philosophies of Life, Properties of Life, the Finality of Life