I’d, killed out of mercy, ‘cuz she’d been, suffering too long, losing control over her body, and, it hurt me, watching her die off slowly, little, by little, knowing that, time’s still nowhere NEAR, expiring, Y-E-T!
A merciful murder, I’d, committed, and, I don’t feel bad about what I’d done, because deep down I know, that I’d, murdered out of love, and care for that certain someone.
And maybe, I’ll, get sentenced as a heartless, coldblooded, murderer, but I don’t care, I got a cleared conscience here. If I’d not murdered the person, then, I will, forever BE gnawed by my own conscience, for NOT doing what’s right by that person I cared too much about.
A merciful murder, I’d, committed, and, I really couldn’t give a !#$%ING RAT’s ASS how everybody else out here in this god DAMN world sees me as: a cold-blooded murderer, an unfitting child, whatever, I KNOW I did it, out of, mercy, my conscience is, clear!!!
A merciful murder, it’s not right to kill someone, in the eyes of the law, but, think about it, if it were your own loved ones who became incapacitated, and their quality of life is dropping by each and every breath they take, wouldn’t you want them to suffer less?
Knowing this student’s heart condition, the instructor still made him run, that’s why the school is mandated to pay! Off of the Front Page Sections, translated…
Four years ago, a sixth grade boy with a heart condition, ran around the school track, fell down, he was rushed to the hospital, and became a vegetable, the families filed a suit toward the country, the Taichung District Court found that school needed to pay the boy’s families until he turned twenty, the amount of over $40,000N.T. per month for the medical fees, and over $20,000N.T. per month extra until he’s sixty, that the amount of over $4.36 million N.T. needed to be paid to the boy and his mother for emotional distress.
The parents told, that filing the suit against the country is to get justice for their son who’s “growing up but never waking up”, and they hoped that their son will be the last victim of the negligence of the school campuses, the school already filed for an appeal.
The verdict stated, that the boy had a congenital heart condition, isn’t fitted for hard exercises, and all his teachers knew this.
On the morning of October 20th, 2016, the homeroom instructor told the whole class to get on the track field to practice running, and the instructor stayed in the class, not gone out to keep an eye on the students, allowed the boy to run two laps, the boy started swaying left and right, limping, and started panting, turning pale, along with other symptoms that he was not will. The homeroom instructor saw, but didn’t call the ambulance immediately, the student was carried by another instructor to the nurse’s office, where the nurse performed CPR, until the paramedics arrived.
The judge believed, that the homeroom instructor wasn’t monitoring the boy when he was running, and not paid enough attention to how he was afterwards, and as the boy passed out, she’d not called the ambulance on time, that it all fitted into negligent in care, that the school should pay for the damages on behalf of the country.
And so, because you weren’t paying enough attention to this student with a HEART condition, and you made him run the laps, that’s why you’re, responsible, for his death, and the school got sued for it, because of the teacher’s not paying enough attention to the student’s health conditions.
So glad that it’s NOT my day to cook today!!! Translated…
Looking at the table’s worth of food he’d prepared, I was, moved, became, dumbfounded! The steamed crab, the pepper shrimps, the pan-seared tofu, the ginseng black-boned chicken…………all of which are, my favorites.
But three months ago before, from when my husband started, cooking the suppers on the weekends, it wasn’t, that wonderful scent of food that made my mouth watered that came out of the kitchen, and, what he’d made then, tasted, exactly like what I would take out to throw as trash, what’s worse was, he would NOT allow anybody, to criticize his, cooking skills.
To fight to my right to NOT cook on the weekends, I’d fought with him, for almost five years, him being, too macho, and no matter what, he just couldn’t accept the fact, that I do NOT want to cook on the weekends. Back then he’d stated it too clearly, that we can go out to eat every now and then, but not every weekend.
Being raised by the feminist era, I naturally could NOT accept the time that women are allowed to have off from being a wife and/or a mother. Taking care of the family during the week, I know I’m reasonable, for NOT wanting to make the meals on the weekends. Should the mothers shoulder everything?
illustration from UDN.com
And, we’d disagreed, more and more, and the meals on the weekends became, a war zone, the stresses was, building, I just, wanted to, get away from the warzone, and every time weekend rolled around, I’d, wanted to, not go home for supper, and not wanted my own families to worry, in the end, I can only, wander alone on the streets. Then, my husband got into a silent treatment war, and I felt, defeated, over my own marriage.
One day, at supper, my child asked me abruptly, what his grandma liked to eat from what I cooked? I was stumped, then, said, “tell the truth, I’d never cooked anything for your grandmother ever!”
My child was surprised, “What? Grandma had never had anything you cooked?”
My husband who was already finished, looked at me instantly, then, lowered his head back to his cell phone.
I told my son, “before I wed, I was my mother’s baby girl, she’d never made me cook, told me that cooking was hard and hot, and even as we go home to visit her, she still wouldn’t allow me to cook.”
“So, is that why you cook so much right now, because you love it?”, he continued asking. “I don’t like to cook, actually, I HATE it!”
“Then why are you cooking every day?”, my son actually hoped that he could have burgers every day.
“because nobody will cook for me, because I need to watch out for your health! That’s why I’d, grit my teeth, and no matter how I hated it, I still, cooked every single day!”
his turn to cook!
photo from online
At this time, my husband’s cell phone had, turned black and he’d, failed to notice, because he was too focused, “eavesdropping” on my son and I. And, this conversation may have, touched some part of him, and, he’d, turned that into the table’s worth of meal three months later, on this, very day.
And so, all it took, was for you, to LET your husband KNOW, that you got tired of having to make every single meal, but, he’d not understood, because you NEVER told him verbally, because you probably thought, that he should, already KNOW it, but he didn’t, NOT until he’d eavesdropped into that conversation you had with your son.
Trying to keep the peace, when members in your group are at each other’s throats, when they get on each other’s nerves, what can you do? Try to mediate, in a round-and-about sort of a way, so you don’t end up, as the common enemies, but it’s, not that easy! Translated…
My daughter-in-law one day, chimed excitedly, to the Family LINE group, how there’s, a night market close to her home, and the photo she’d sent to the group was a street, lit up with the lights during the nights, with a world of fried food stands, the arcades, I’d immediately replied back, “be careful as you don’t know the quality of oils the owners used to fry the foods, and the kids shouldn’t be allowed to play those arcades, as they may be easily addicted to these games…………”
As soon as I’d typed all of that, my daughter who’s away on another continent immediately added on, “it’s fine that you go and take that stroll every now and then.” I was shocked, I’d, immediately recycled my message back. Thinking about this calmly, if someone rained on my parade, it naturally would, make me feel, awful, and it wouldn’t matter if the words that someone was saying to me was right! I’d, contemplated, and felt grateful for my daughter’s round-and-about-way of reminding me, so I slammed on the brakes before damages are done.
My friend was once the head of a certain club, he’d shared things on LINE quite a lot. He’d told, that often, as a subject of discussion was opened for debate, some of the group had started, firing those cannons, some, quite stubborn, to one’s own beliefs, some swayed with how the winds were blowing, some agreed to others’ words, and the words were sharpened, ready for war. The most often was the fight for the parties in the politics, some debated on the policies, some toward the incumbents, and, it’d, made it difficult, for my friend, who wanted to try and mediate between those who are then, engaged, and, he’d, spoken of his “New Year’s Resolution” aloud via LINE.
He’d said, “from here on out, no talks of politics, no personal attacks. When we have a difference of opinions, DO delete those emotional words, to keep the conversation flowing smoothly, rationally”, and, for the six months that followed, there’s, more harmony within the group of LINE.
getting into an argument on LINE
illustration found online
With the inventions of the high-tech gadgets, it’d, made people leap into an alternative world, the parents are, disregarding the needs of their children more now, and the problems between the couples, the parents and children, worsened, as our heads, lowered to our high-tech gadgets these days.
But, think on it, it’s not the gadgets that are awful, it’s the mindsets of the users, and the timing. If one can use the gadgets, and not let these high-tech devices control us, then, we won’t become, slaves. Like how those who’d retired who don’t live with their children, sliding on their tablets or cell phones, sending the messages, their emotions found a viable outlet, and they’re, able to get some news and new information from everywhere around. Sometimes, they’re even, having a webcam conference with the children and grandchildren who don’t live close by, the comfort from interaction with one’s own loved ones, although they’re, separated physically, but they’d become, more than, connected psychologically. To the point when there’s an emergency, the high-tech devices are, very good for sounding off the alarms.
illustration from UDN.com
My friend’s older sister-in-law didn’t get along with her parents, although one live up north, the other, south, they’d still gotten on each other’s bad side over miniscule matters, and, as the two sides were getting heated on the group on LINE, she’d, privately texted her youngest nephew, told him to commend his mother on her cooing, how he’s, looked after so well, so the grandparents who lived faraway, in the southern parts of the island know, that they have a good daughter-in-law. And, other than posting the messages on how to live well, my friend told her older sister-in-law that her parents had, commended her in their circles of friends, how they’re, so proud of her. And naturally, the problems between this mother and daughter-in-law pair, slowly, resolved on their own.
Working hard, being the middleman of peace, at first, you may feel, tried, because you couldn’t make the results of the changes you want to see happen faster, but, after awhile, the results will, show. The communications apps are of various sorts and kinds, with the members numerous, and, it certainly isn’t by chance, that we’d, found each other, in the vastness of the ocean-full of people. If you can cherish this affinity, and, work hard, as a connector in every group you’re involved in, keeping the peace, for everybody’s sake, as you turn on the apps, it can only bring you joys in the days.
This is on, being, THE middleman, and, this woman has some valid points, but, I don’t, necessarily agree with her on everything. I mean, it’s important, that you want to keep the peaceful flow of conversations on your LINE accounts, sure, but sometimes, you just, can’t ignore how someone’s words made you flare up, and, if you don’t find a valid way to get the angers you feel out, then, it will surely, damage you, and not just your relationship with that other person. And yeah, a middleman who will help, diffuse this, lit up bomb, may be necessary in these cases, but not always.
Death is, the only gift I can, give to you, love! I don’t want you to, suffer anymore…
When death is the only gift I can, give to you, I can’t! I just, can’t bear the thought of, losing you, it’s, too painful! When death is the only gift I can, give to you, because you’re, in so much pain, and you’d, become, reduced, to less than you were, from when you were still, healthy, happy, and free, and now, you got, trapped, inside this, sick little body of yours, growing weaker by the day!
When death is the only gift I can, give to you, will I be able to, just, let go, of my love for you, knowing that, you’d be, better off, DEAD? And, how can I, say goodbye to you, my love, after we’d, shared, so many years of our lives together, of all that we’d, weathered through with each other, huh?
like this???photo from online
You’re, asking too much of me, and I just, can’t! I can’t, let you go, you mean too much to me, I can’t, lose you, it hurt, just, thinking about it!
When death is the only gift I can, give to you, then, I will, force myself to give you just that, because, I will, NEVER allow you, to suffer, like someone I used to love, suffered, before he was, put down!
So yeah if death turns into, the only gift I can, give to you, then, I shall, give it, and nobody says SHIT about it!!!
Lessons we learned, from school, from our own, experiences in life, off of the Front PageSections, translated…
Recently I’d made the speeches at the schools, as the speech ended, a parent led two children to before me. “Professor, I was your student, do you still remember me?” This was every instructor’s nightmare, I’d, worked really hard, to think back on all the students, and just, couldn’t, recall her name; but I’d still smiled and told her, “let me think!”, as she’d heard me say this, her smile did not fade, she’s not, disappointed one bit, but her second-grade daughter looked up at her innocently, “Mom, your teacher can’t remember you!”
I felt very awkward after hearing, before I could reply, she’d immediately told her child, “Do you know how many students the professor’s had? How can she remember every one, but, so long as I remember her!”, then, she’d, started speaking of her middle school careers, that with the problems she’d, faced in life then, how I’d, given her the advices she’d needed, “because you’d, counseled me, teacher, so I will, never forget you, as I saw the flyer on the seminar, I was so excited to come, to thank you.” as she’d told me, I still, can’t quite, remember her, but, I’d felt, very touched by her words.
The following day, a student used the communication app to contact me, this particular student had been, hurt by a certain teacher, he’d come back to me to tell me about what happened, to seek out my counsel, it took me sometime, but I’d, accompanied him, helped him out; back then, I’d, encouraged him: you need to turn what happened to you, into your driving force, if there’s a chance, you must, help those who’d been hurt like you had. Back then he’d told me, that he will, work hard, to become a teacher who can, help his students. In his final year of high school, he wrote me that with his grades, there was, NO chance he will ever be a school teacher, so, he was, willing, to become, a serviceman, to fight to protect the country.
And now, many years afterwards, he’d, shared with me everything he’d weathered through in the armed services, and he’d, mentioned what happened to him again back in middle school, and stressed to me, that even though he wasn’t, highly ranked, he will use his past as a teacher, to NEVER make the mistakes his middle school instructor had made.
After I’d read, although I’d felt glad, but, I couldn’t help but feel: that the first woman told me, “so long as I remember you!”. It symbolized, I don’t’ need your affirmations from your memories, but I will remember, that was, the demands that one made of, one’s own, characters, to never forget to be, thankful. While the second student, couldn’t forget about the shame, but he’d not, selected, to take revenge, instead, he’d, turned his shame into something he could, learn from, to remind himself, to NEVER shame another like he’d been, shamed. Think on his, how many people we will meet, how many things we can, encounter, in our, lifetimes!
Who remembered us, it isn’t, that important, what’s important is who we remembered? Well, it’s, not that important either, the important being WHY we remember who or what we remember? Those that happened, those whom we remembered, what were their, influenced on us? From these two students, I saw the choices of attitude, how they’d, chosen to make themselves feel happy, how by choosing to forgive, it’d, given him peace, to use the past as a mirror to reflect, to have a life without regrets, what, will you, choose?
And so, this, is something worth pondering on, what, do you remember when you graduated? I’m sure, that it’s not the course load, the books, the materials, or even what you’d made on your exams, it’s the experience of learning, of accumulating the knowledge, of the lessons that life teaches us that we will, carry with us from here on out.
I still gotta say, this is, still NOT directed toward anyone who can R-E-A-D, as for those of you who’d, stumbled onto this site of mine, and can’t READ, well, you got NO business being here, so, get the HELL out!!!
What AM I??? A @#$%ING (maxed out!) R-E-T-A-R-D???
And, why on God’s “green earth” (oh wait, god does NOT have sole-proprietorship over ANY of us, here on E-A-R-T-H!) would I do something so stupid like that, huh? Besides, you were the ones who couldn’t keep your god damn, @#$%ING (maxed out!) DICKS in check, so, what RIGHT have you, to tell me that I’m not keeping my you-know-where intact?
The primary reason W-H-Y a lot of women are currently STUCK in this, predicament (you can call it that if you want to!) is because they are, too dumb, and too, BLONDE (the dumb-blonde BIMBOS???), to unable to see, how staying STUCK, should be, their, last resort, and they still, don’t get themselves out, why is that, is absolutely, beyond ME!
Staying true, to, a WHORING M-A-N, that may be our, only option, IF we live in the, 18th, 19th, 20th centuries, but we are, in the 21st CENTURY here (hello, hello, hello, is this thing~~the P.A, even on???), because we are, without a viable skill, to make a living on our own, therefore, in the olden days, we relied on our losers has-beens, to keep us, and seeing how they are all, the bread winners of the house, they can, WHORE around all the want to but that’s, back then, and this, is N-O-W!
Staying true, to, a WHORING M-A-N, is something I will NEVER do, in fact, like all you losers out there that EXTRA “appendage” “down there”, I too, prefer, VIRGIN males too, okay, and yes, I will have my two “virgin males” NEUTERED, and I am going to get the two of them both, HOUSEBROKEN, and, they will be, “camping” their butts, on my bed, next to me, giving that they don’t crawl onto my pillow, to find that soft spot (like Murphy’d done???)…and we’ll all get along, just fine, and dandy here…
Allowing your own young to experience, so s/he knows, that MOMMY is, RIGHT!!! Translated…
My daughter woke up late this morn, I’d placed her breakfast into a box, for her to bring to school. At this time, she’d told me she’d not wanted to eat it at school. I’d hollered, “Why?”, she’d, minced her lips, refused to tell me another word, I’d thought for a bit, and asked, “do you want to take the time before classes to finish your assignments?”, she’d nodded, “it’s too time consuming to have to eat breakfast at school, it takes away the time from me doing my homework.”
I had to admit, I’d felt, a bit, emotional as she’d told me this. I thought it’s, defeating the whole purpose of things, thinking of finishing her assignments on time, not caring about her health. Besides, “homework’, is supposed to be work, taken home to complete, and yet, she’d been, rushing through the assignments in the mornings as she arrived at school, to the point of, giving up breakfast, this is, so totally, not, understandable.
As I was about to go into lecture at her, suddenly, I thought of myself. In the elementary years, I’d gotten too busy with the various kinds of contests and competitions; in middle school, the pressures of academic made me buried in books; entered into high school, I’d, insisted I could, handle both my academia and my extracurricular activities; as I started n college, I’d, burned off my youth like crazy—but, during those years, my mother never said anything. Surely, she’d, nagged, it’s just, she couldn’t, do a thing, as her daughter is, very much an, independent thinker, and, finally, allowed me to, be.
Many years later, in the mornings, I stood before my daughter, and, suddenly understood, my own mother’s, nagging back then. Toward the young, mothers always showed their care and concerns, there were the, worries, always wanting to, offer the best answers for her life. But, because I’d been a kid myself, I knew, that a lot of the lessons in life, you must learn, personally, for you, to come to realize, what is, the correct answer, and so, I’d come to understand, that the best thing for me to do right now, is, just zip it up.
Finally, as I saw her off into the school, I’d stated, “mom believe you are, able to decide correctly for yourself, breakfast, or not breakfast!”
I can even, give, the correct answer, and then, justify my claims of why my answer is correct, and yet, no matter how perfect I’d, argued my case, it won’t, do a thing for my daughter, because it’s not the answer she’d found by herself. The only thing I can do, is to give her room, to discover, to hit, for her to, persuade herself, at the same time, having the faith, that she is, able to, persuade herself.
Turns out, what’s harder in caring for our young, is letting them go, to allow them, to make their own, choices in life.
In the evenings as she came back home, she took out the packed breakfast box. I took a look, nothing’s inside. She stuck out her tongue and told me, “I was so hungry, and so, I couldn’t help, but eat it.”
Maybe, these lessons of our young, rather than, drying up our own tongue, why not, allow their, rumbling stomachs, to teach them what’s correct.
And so, this, is how a child learns, that her mommy’s, right (and of course, us mommies, are ALWAYS and FOREVER right!), but for our young to understand that we ARE right, sometimes, we need to, stop worrying about them, to just, let go, and let them touch the FIRE, so they get burned, and that hurt register inside their brains, OUCH! It’s hot, and I shouldn’t touch, like this mother did, for her own young, to LEARN, that HER mother, is R-I-G-H-T!!!
Outside of the abortion clinic, you see people, holding those, pro-life, and pro-choice signs, and your bodies are still, NOT yours, it was, NEVER yours to begin with!!!
Outside of the abortion clinic, the crowd gathers, to protest the clinic’s god-defying action, with, absolutely, NO sense, of how this FUCKED up matters are, caused by M-E-N. And you’re, protesting G-O-D???
this, is what you’ll, see…photo from online
Outside the abortion clinic, the crowd parted like the Red Sea, on one side, was the men who are, PRO-LIFE (you mother fuckers aren’t the ones going through the FUCKING pregnancies, what right have you to say, huh???), and on the opposite, there are, the PRO-CHOICE women (it’s our bodies, our rights!!!). But, do we really, have a right over, our bodies? I mean, think about it………
Outside the abortion clinic, the crowds are, getting rowdy, and then, in an instant, windows shattered, death took over the air, and there’s, still NOTHING that anybody CAN do, because a woman has the right, over HER body, doesn’t she? Or, must we women, be ruled by, M-E-N???
Outside the abortion clinic, pamphlets are, flying, fires started everywhere, it looked like, Armageddon, the world, on the verge of, destruction, and yet, where is, G-O-D, in all of this, huh? If God exists, why didn’t he, stop this, atrocity, tell me!
Getting involved, in non-school related activities here, translated…
My youngest was headed out early in the morn, because the camp from her major was starting, as a freshman, she is very enthusiastic of all the activities hosted by her major. I remembered, that, we’d, headed out before light for her last thing too, in the nearly zero degree icy cold floor of the CKS Memorial Hall, rolled around on the floorboards, it was her salsa club of her high school, she was responsible for coordinating a “recital of her younger schoolmates.”
My youngest started dancing from her kindergarten years to date, dance had become, her favorite. It’s just, that her school teachers mentioned how if she’d worked too hard on her “hobby”, it may, cause her grades to slip, but she’d, asked us, not to worry, “the extracurriculars are important rites of passage, just let them give it all they got for this!” but, I’d, found my daughter, with that lack, of enthusiasm, turned out, she had, dropped her activities, because she’s still, trying to figure out what she’s good at academically, she’d told us, “I’m more than certain about dance, and anything else, is not good enough for me.” Until her final year in high school, she’d, transferred from the sciences, to the social sciences, and now, she’s, in the major she has great interests in, communications, and, she’d, danced every day, and now, she’d, gone out early in the morn, for her summer camp activities.
the assortments of activities, not related to the academic…photo from online
My eldest and I, were both into the extracurriculars in our high school years, I’d, gotten involved in two groups, one was for vanity, the band, the other, school paper. Being in band, I’d, played the trumpet, without much talent, just so I can, put on that marching uniform that made me shine on flag day, and, walking across the podium before the President’s Office. As for the school paper, it was, where my heart lies, I’d, let my own, writing talents, poured out. I’d recalled, how hard it’d been that I had, worked, on every topic, how I’d, gone to the shopping marts, to find the old photos, to do the interviews, and published my not-mature-enough writings, wanted to pour all of my doubts of the world, my feeling lost for my future, along with my dissatisfaction toward school, all out in the open.
I can no longer recall how the periodical had, turned out, but, my grades, slipped, and, that became, a F-A-C-T.
I’d found a university that I really don’t hate to study in, but the major I was in, it wasn’t anywhere near my interest profile. And, by then, editing the periodicals, no longer, satisfied my mind, maybe back then, love was, taken up half of my mind.
And yet, because I’d, lost love, I’d, decided, to go for the president of the club, to let myself, embrace this major I’d, found myself to be in, tired, to learn to be a, leader. And so, the memories of my college years, were revolved around the freshmen orientations, the camps, the seminars, the book fairs, the competitions. I recalled all the guest lecturers I’d invited, remembered all the shows we’d put on for the freshmen orientations, recalling that freshman ball we hosted, remembered the singing and skit competition I’d, set up, remembering being in the trainees of the officers of the clubs of the school too, along with how I continued being the team counselor as I went into my senior year.
I’d once not wanted to graduate, because I loved being a student too much. And, the best memories of being a student, are from, the extracurricular activities, as we’d, entered into the groups on our own, there’s, too many connections there. Like how I watched my eldest get too excited as she’d, started, editing the footage, like how I imagined my youngest happily, leading the freshmen, because she’s, finally, a sophomore.
volunteer counts too! Photo from online
Some had found their significant others in the extracurricular groups, like my eldest brother and sister-in-law. A lot of people found what they truly loved, like my youngest and I. Recently, I’d, edited a periodical of a bookstore, and, I’d, found my passions there, and that, was when I’d, recalled, this, was what I loved, doing back then.
And so, these extracurricular activities in college, they’d not, only enriched our schooling careers, but it may also, point us, toward the directions of our, future jobs too, and so, don’t be too worried, when your own young got too involved in their extracurricular activities, besides, the university years aren’t about making the grades, it’s about, discovering, who we are!!!
photo from online
the assortments of activities, not related to the academic…photo from online
volunteer counts too! Photo from online