Beliefs about Being, “Privileged”…

Some of us, were raised in homes, where there’s NOTHING lacking, materialistically speaking, but, we’d been, deprived of our, parents’, attentions growing up, so, are we, privileged, or are we not?

That’s just it, you know, most people define themselves, on being lucky, because they got all the money handed to them, ‘cuz they never had to work a day in their lives, for the sake, of that, hard-earned, dollar, and yet, there are, those of us, who got, EVERYTHING handed to us, money, polo shirts, name brand watches, purses, etc., etc., etc., and yeah we’re, materialistically well-to-do, but, we’re, still NOT, considered, RICH!

And yeah, maybe I’d been, too, SPOILED rotten, by the endless number of hundred dollar bills USD (they came in wads of, five to six “pieces” at a time from before!), and I NEVER had to “work a day in my life” for my “living” either.

And so, based off of solely just that, I guess I’m, totally, SPOILED, rotten all right.

But I know for a FACT, that I am NOT, spoiled rotten, ‘cuz I NEVER had what I was in need of, which was the unconditional love from my two primary attachment figures (hello, hello, hello?  And, I am NOT going back to tell you WHAT those are again here!), instead, I got, abused emotionally by his DEAD parents, BURNED by his dead father’s teacups and teapot, solely because, he didn’t want my wandering little hands, to pick up his SHIT and oopsy, drop it onto the floors and shatter his things, not to mention how his DEAD mother molested me, all the way, up into my early teens, when I got out of this SHIT hole, then, she stopped having “access” over me on the weekends, did that SHIT finally end.

And, it wasn’t until I got in my late twenties, did I realize, all these SHITS that’s happened to me.  On top of that, I am still, carrying this DEAD baby girl of mine (no need for “introduction” here), since 2008.

So, guess what I’m saying to all of y’all is this: I KNOW I’m now, more than ENTITLED to have a good AND easy (you have got to be SHITTING me here!) life that I’m now, currently living.

And no, I still don’t gotta worry ‘bout shits like M-O-N-E-Y.  Got that shit, shoved ALL the way up my you-know-where (don’t need to “draw”, do I???), since I was very young, and now, I’m still, “digesting” all of the Ben Franklins’, Ulysses S. Grants, Andrew Jacksons, etc., etc., etc., out right now…

So yeah I am, god damn “PRIVILEGED” here all right.

And you have GOT to be shitting me here!

This “spoiled BRAT” is done, for now…

The Stranded Ark

How nothing stays the same, in the baptism of, time, translated…

The Stars that Lost the Precisions in Words

The Boxes, Flooded by an Overflow of Emotions

The Stars that We Can, No Longer, Hear

The Roses, that Became, Blurred

The Mix-and-Match of the Words

Waiting for the Sharpened Knives to Get Them Edited

the progressions of, life

found online

Cutting Off All the Excess

To Make Things Less, Complex

The Wind Can’t Recognize the Banners

The Cloud Can’t Decipher My Mind

That Ark Made of Words, Stranded

Expecting the Rise of Tides of Inspiration

The Musical Instruments Stopped Playing Now

And Took with Them, the Ripples Like the Poems by that Boat

There’s, that light scent of, loss here, of how things are gone so quickly, of how we can’t hold onto time, no matter how much we wanted time to slow down, it just, doesn’t.

It Was Me, Who Got Shattered, Like You, Had…

It was me, who got, shattered, like you, had, I just, didn’t know it then, but I know it now…

It was me, who got shattered, like you, had, and, you broke into, millions of bits and pieces, and, scattered your broken self, across my mind.  It was me, who got shattered, like you had, I just, didn’t know it then, I didn’t know, that I was, going to be like you, the victim of our, angers.

what became of, her, my porcelain of, long-ago…photo found online (this wasn’t my identical porcelain though…)

It was me, who got shattered, like you, had, and I know it now, and, I’m so sorry, for how you’d, “died” back when I was too young to even realize.  It was me, who got shattered, like you had, only, I shattered inside, while you’d, shattered, on the, out, and, as soon as you hit the marble floor, I knew, it was, too late, to save you.

Oh how I’d, cried, over you (did I now, can’t remember!), you were prettier than my other, porcelain, and, the thoughts of, had I only, thrown HER, instead of you, you would be, “alive” still, crawled into my mind.

But it was, too late, you’d already, “died”, at my childhood, hand, there was nothing I can do, but to, mourn for my loss of you, and of my own self too……………

Everything will Eventually Work Out in Life

What her father left behind for her, the wisdoms, not the physical, assets here, how you want to remember by others when you’re dead and gone, the values you leave behind, translated…

Every time I’d rummaged through my coin purse, it’s like, I’d already, counted them up, and made the perfect change, and I’d often, recalled my own father at these times.  Based off of how he’d taught me math, he’d often stated, “math is unchanged,” and now came my turn, to teach my own son math, I’d learned, that everything is, not as stable in this world, that the only thing that don’t betray you, are the numbers and the math.

What awed me was, that my father, who’d, calculated everything in his own life, although, couldn’t predict when his life ended, but he’d, fulfilled, “leaving nothing behind”.  As Shel Silverstein wrote in “Prayers of a Selfish Child”, “As I Lay Me Down to Sleep, I Pray the Lord My Soul to Keep, If I Die Before I Wake, I Pray the Lord My Toys to Break, So None of the Other Kids Can Use ‘Em…Amen!” I was still a teenage girl as I first read this, felt, that this poem had, helped me understand what I couldn’t of my own father.

Recently, a good friend accompanied me to see him at his grave, I’d talked of how he’d only lived, for himself, my friend, don’t know if she was courteous, or heartfelt, told, “Uncle really let go of everything.”  Yeah, sure, maybe, he’d already saw through, this, long and short life, knew that life’s too short, and tried, to give himself the sweetened fruits of no worries for the long run.

And so, this, is how we need to, get closure on everything that’s happened to us in our lives, soon as we can, because we don’t know when we will get yanked off of the planet, and, by the time we actually get yanked off, if there are the regrets, the forgiveness, the unforgiveness or whatever that’s left behind, then, you would not be able to die off easily enough.  So, do what you need to, to resolve as many things in your lives as you possibly can, right now.

In the Case with the Child Taking Judo and Got Slammed Down, Causing His Death, the Examination Department Went After Two Facilities

Placing, assigning the blames, and yet, what the @#$% would that do?  Nothing, the kid’s already, DEAD, hello, hello, hello???  Off of the Newspapers, translated…

The incident of the young boy in Taichung who got body-slammed to his death in his judo class, the Examination Department assigned the corrective measures to the Taichung City Government’s Department of Kinesiology.  The head of the examination committee, Yeh stated, that the city government and the kinesiology department are responsible for lacking in training in managements of the facilities, that it’d not, tightened the processes of the ring’s certifications.  The city government of Taichung is already, evaluating this, and, although the death wasn’t caused, directly by the exercise rings, but legally, the government already, demanded that the instructor hold the professional licensures, to strengthening the trainings on safety, to protect the rights of the citizens locally.

The seven-year-old boy, Huang last year on April 21 at his judo class, had been slammed repeatedly by the unlicensed coach, He and many of his classmates a total of twenty-seven times, he’d sustained subdural hematoma, hospitalized for seventy days and still died.  Yeh stated, that the city government started cracking down on the qualifications of the coaches, the courses’ contents, the rosters of students, and the safety measures including but not limited to the surveillance cameras being set up at the location, the emergency resuscitation training means, that the location had allowed the unlicensed coach, He to teach long-term at the station.

Yeh told, that the child, Huang just begun the judo lessons for two weeks, and had been body slammed multiple times, even the Professional Judo Association said, that this wasn’t, the ways that a child who only begun taking judo should be slammed down; but the city government had, simplified the case as the student’s willing participating in the afterschool activities, evaded its responsibilities, and blamed it on the coach alone, that it’d, evaded the responsibilities thereof, in keeping the place under close watch, that there was proof of, negligence on the city’s part.

He said, the location where the incident happened was public, the participants were all students of the school, that this case can be ruled as “incident in school”, or “incident in education”, that there’s the discussions of having the country pay for the death, that this asking the government to pay is just and right, and met to the standards of the requirements of what constitutes as the fault of the public space.

The city’s department of education stated, that the contract to lease the space specified, that the sponsors of the activities needed to fulfill the safety requirements, and to protect the safety of all participants; while the department of kinesiology stated that in the activities, there’s a need for the valid certifications of national organizations of the coaches, the city government already mandated the various schools to hire the instructors with these specific qualifications, certifications to teach the courses.

And so, this is what happens after a kid lost his life, and, yeah, all the measures set up now, may be able to, prevent cases like these from recurring repeatedly, but what OF this boy who’d, lost his life already, huh?  Who’s going to pay for that?

How these local and federal governments still operated on, hindsight here, and, a KID is already D-E-A-D, who the FUCK (don’t pardon me!) is going to pay for that, huh? And, how much in dollars and cents would be, enough, to “cover” for this young boy’s getting slammed to DEATH by his classmate, because the coach told that other kid to do it, huh???

Home of the Broken Dolls

Call it, shelter, or, dumpster!

There’s this home, of the broken dolls, where, all those dolls that got torn apart (made of cloth), shattered (made of porcelain), go to, die.

Home of the broken dolls, that, is where you belong, you’d been, broken, and I do NOT want you around me, not, go on, GET!  Home of the broken dolls, how cruel those young children are, just, cast us all away, tossed us all away, like we don’t matter, but we had, we were, once, important, significant others in their young lives, it’s just, that they’d, outgrown all of us, and we became, unwanted, TRASH!

where ALL those broken toys go and, D-I-E!

photo from online

Home of the broken dolls, that, is where you’ll be, you got broken by my childhood, and it still, wasn’t my fault, that I couldn’t, save you, I was, too little, too scared myself, I had to, duck for cover, when the storms came, and, you got struck by thunder AND lightning, ‘cuz I forgot, to take you with me into hiding…

I’m sorry, doll, I really am, but now you’re, broken, I have, NO need for you, and you still can’t blame me, for tossing you out, you want someone to blame?  BLAME yourself, for being, MADE from, such, fragile, material…………

In this home of broken dolls, all dolls lay waiting, to D-I-E, they’re all, unwanted, disowned, by their, children.

Letters From A Son: A Note To The Old Man — The Written Addiction

Hey Pop,It’s been awhile. It’s been 31 years to be exact. In fact it was 31 years ago today when you left us. I’m sorry it’s been a little while since my last letter. Not sure if you can see the news where you are but the world is in a little bit of a tailspin. […]

Letters From A Son: A Note To The Old Man — The Written Addiction

The Infant was Abandoned in the Park, the Stray Dogs Eaten it Up with Only the Skull Remaining

In the Dual-Lake Park construction area in Sanming District of Kaohsiung there were the construction workers who’d found a white package in the construction sites, as they’d opened it, they were shocked to find the corpse of an infant without the head, the police and district attorneys examined the body, suspected that the infant was eaten by the stray dogs after being abandoned by its, parents, they’re, currently, chasing the leads to identify the parents, to find if the infant was abandoned alive, or dead.

The location of where the body was found, was the back slopes of the Daping Yu First Cemetery next to a junk yard in Dingjing Alley of Sanming District in Kaohsiung, it was originally the public Ding-Jing Cemetery, but the city government had, relocated the cemetery, currently, the location is under construction of the greener park projects.

At around 1:30 in the afternoon yesterday, the contractors of the park started working, they’d discovered  small white package on the lawns, the workers went over, opened it up, found a tiny head with the face chewed off, they’d, immediately, notified the police.

As the police arrived, they’d, immediately, sealed up the site, the police found, that the infant head was wrapped in white tarp, inside the white tarp, there was also, a cardboard box, and around the 100 meter radius of where the box was found, were the scattered pieces of bone, they’d suspected that they may be from the infant.

The workers who’d discovered the infant head told, they’d stopped working for two, three days on end, that they’d discovered the package of white cloth, and because a woman often come to feed the stray dogs, there were, the gathering of, about eight stray dogs, the police suspected that the infant’s body was chewed up by the stray dogs, leaving the blood stains on the white cloth.

The Kaohsiung District Attorneys came with the coroners to examine the body, and, found, that the diameter of the skull was, only a little over ten centimeters, they suspected that the infant was, only a few days old, but, they couldn’t tell the sex, because there were the irregular lacerations of the skins on the neck area, and suspected that after the infant was abandoned, it’d been chewed up by the stray dogs already.

And so, we have, a Baby Doe, and, the way this infant got chewed up by the strays, was too awful, because its (as the sex is still, undetermined???) parents couldn’t, take responsibilities for it, and maybe, Baby Doe was a stillborn, maybe it wasn’t, nobody knows for right now!

The Season of the Frost

As death, slowly, takes over, the living, translated…

The afternoon sun came in, from the southwest side, the light that weren’t, blocked out, by the house next door, slanted down, lazily, imprinted itself, onto the patio, reflecting the rhombus pattern of the screen door, her black cat, Charcoal lay, on that patch of sun that’s, on the ground, it seemed, that he was, unwilling, to leave that spot.

As she stared, at this frame, there came, the eyes of that elderly woman, the elderly face was, so thin, with the deepening of the wrinkles on her face, her skin, dark in complexion, very thin in its, layer, with one eye, slanted, and the eye that stared at people, it’d, looked, extremely, delicate, with the corner lifted upward.  Maybe, back when the elderly was a younger woman, she was, beautiful, it’s just, that the year drifted too far away from her now, and, she’s not related to her, and so, she can, only, make her own guesses on her.

what that, looked, like…photo found online

She’s, a caretaker, taking the shifts from the night previous.  The elderly woman is close to eighty years of age, not even forty kilograms in weight, quite weak in physique, and even so, she’d still, insisted on, taking herself to the bathrooms.  She’d, taken into considerations her stature, and wanted to allow the elderly to have what’s left of her own, dignity, she’d, allowed the elderly, to lean on her, and took her to the bathroom, and, as the night got deeper, she’d, made the trips, many more times.  The elderly always, sat on the toilet a long time, and, as she helped her back into bed, she could hear the elderly pant like a dog.  As the nurse saw, she’d, grilled her, to NOT help her go to the bathrooms again, that she could just, let the elderly go in her diapers.  Later she’d, taken care of the diapers’ worth of brownish, sticky material.  As the families learned of this, they’d told, that in these recent ten days, the woman lacked an appetite, and didn’t eat anything when they took her home, only had the liquid nutritional drinks, how can she expel so much waste.  As she heard, her heart went colder, and reminded the families in a round and about way, that they need to be, prepared.  What she couldn’t tell them was, please, take your mother home with you, so the high tech devices, don’t drag her life out for longer than it should’ve, lasted.

As the elderly woman was lying there, she’d, used her delicate eyes, asked, “Miss, can you please give me some medications, that I can take, and just, die.”  Then, “I’m going to find my dad now.” And from time to time, she’d, hung her head down low, held tight to her tiny achy frame, mumbled on, “I’m going to die”.

As the day broke, the families came by, the elderly started grilling them, “are you, leaving me here, to die?”, her children were about fifty or sixty years of age, looked honest enough, but without a clue, and, as they’d heard their mother’s questions, they’d, seemed, helpless, rebutted, “We sent you here to get better, how can we leave you here, to die?”  the nurse told the families to go outside, she’d watched the loved ones, nodded away like bobbleheads, they started, writing something down on a sheet of paper that the nurses handed them.

this, is what the end, might, look like…photo from online

At around noon, the medical staff, suddenly, gathered around in the room.  The families, as well as she, were, ushered outside.  In a panic, the elderly had, multiple tubes going in and out of her body: the trachea, the feeding tubes through the nose, connected to the stomach, the catheter, the drips, with some tranquilizer, the elderly lost consciousness, with the oxygen mask over her face, the assortments of drips on the poles, then, the entire bed, got wheeled off, into the I.C.U.

She received a day’s worth of nurse’s pays, dragged out her luggage, walked, on the golden sun rays of the season of the frost, as the golden sunshine was about, to get off the clock.

As she arrived home, there were the cats, and no humans around, her kids had all grown up and left home, her husband no longer alive.  She’d put a kettle on, gone to pick the two sticks of chamomiles out in her yard, on lemon grass, three leaves of mint, made it, into a cup of, lightly, sweetened, light green solution.  As she’d, found her calm again, she’d recalled, a patient she couldn’t, let go of as she was being trained as a caretaker, it was, also, an elderly of eighty or ninety years of age, she’d helped turned him over in the bed, and, as she’d touched his body, she’d found, that the man was, so stiffened up, that he’d, looked like a curled up shrimp, most of the patients she worked for, as she’d helped them flip over, would sigh, and yelp, but this elderly man, is a dead body, with just, one breath left inside of him, like a cookie, she’d turned him, left, and then, right, no response, there’s, no changes in the lines on his body, or posture, he’d, stuck on the hospital bed, and it’s, actually, abandonment, in the name, of terminal care, how long had it been, since someone, helped moved his muscles?  Otherwise, how could he be, so stiff?  And yet, the people around him, they’re sliding on their cell phones, eating their meals, and just, busying themselves, around, and about.

The sun had, retracted, to a corner on the lanai now, the rhombus shaped pattern now, gone, Charcoal hopped, into her lap.  She’d, patted that body of color, Charcoal started, purring at her.  The elderly with the corners of the eyes lifting upward, your wings of youth had already been, put up, stored away, inside, that long hallway of time, without all those, tubes to keep you alive, hmmmmmmmmm, it’s, hard to, say.————She took a small sip of the light scent, then asked Charcoal who’s in her lap, “the season of the frosts has arrived, do you know that?  And the days, go fast one by one, vanished, do you know, what a, good spot you were lying in awhile ago!”

And so, for this woman, in her line of work, she’d, seen it all, because she took care of the terminal patients, who are, on the verge of dying, and in taking care of these elderly, she’d, seen everything, from how the bodies are, no longer, capable of sustaining life on their own, of how the only thing that’s, keeping these bodies alive, are the machines, and tubes in the arms, connecting to the machines, and how the families refused, to let go of their elderly parents, and just, keep on, making them suffer even longer!

Status

On death & dying, in the funeral home, translated…

On day, an Indonesian Woman Took Her Mother in, But, No Matter How We’d, Checked & Crosschecked the References from Taiwan, We Can’t See, that They are, Mother & Daughter………

That Column of “Spouse”, Left Blank

One day, the owner of a funeral home took an elderly person’s copy of identification, and left it on the desk at the office the moment he’d, walked in.

We looked at the identification, asked, “is the person, coming in soon?”

The owner said, “no, not the man, but his wife, she’s, almost, gone.”

I looked at the identification, there’s nothing on the spousal column, it’d been, left, blank, could it be, someone who’s, just like me, who’d imagined he had a wife, and, the air was, almost, out of, his air-filled dolls? As I thought, I’d, felt empathy, looking at that identification card, I’d felt, closer, and, it didn’t, look like that eyesore that it had become to me.

The owner looked at my face, knew that I wasn’t, thinking straight, said, “He’d been with a divorced woman a long time, they’re both, getting older, with no need to get married again, and, twenty years had, come and gone. Now, the woman is dying, and the man wanted to know, if you can, help take care of the final affairs?”

We’d first inquired, “are they, cohabiting partners?”

The man said, “nope, they are registered separately.”

Then, we’d inquired, “Would they need to set up separate wills?”

The owner shook his head, “They don’t have enough money for that!”

We’d sighed, “then, we can only, ask the social services to sort it all through”.

The owner smiled bitterly, “the elderly just thought, they’d been together so long, they should, help each other with one another’s, final affairs.”

illustration from UDN.com

The woman who was, sweeping up the floors close by said, “Then…how about, marrying one another?”

The few of us were, lost in thought: one of them is in the eighties, and, the other one, about, to get, sent in here too, and, this marriage would be………

The owner smiled bitterly, “I’ll go and ask them.”

About a week later, the owner took an elder into the funeral home, to set the affairs up, the elderly took out his identification, it looked, familiar, I’d, flipped it over, there’s a name on the spouse column now, and the elderly said firmly, “I want to, check my wife in”.

This elderly looked like he was from the lower end of the socioeconomic statuses, leaving the final affairs to the social services, it would surely, help him save up on a lot, and, is, “status”, really, that important?

The Woman Who Wheeled My Mother in

One day, an Indonesian woman sent in her mother, but, we’d, read the paperwork, and just, couldn’t believe, that they were, mother, and daughter at all.

The woman said, back then, it was her aunt who’d, married to Taiwan first, so she could, come over here too, she’d, used some measures, and, managed to have the mother’s name become her aunt’s, and her birthmother, she’d, called her “aunt” instead.

Waited until she’d started living stably here, she’d, moved her mother over to Taiwan to live, and, within a few short months, her own mother tripped, fell, and died.

As I heard this story, although I felt bad for her, but, aunt is aunt is aunt is aunt, and, we’d, slashed the services for those from other countries, that only the blood relatives can be taken care of. We’d, told her the situations, as she’d heard, she’d, waved to us, said, “the cost is nothing, I want to know, can I, help her sort through her final affairs as her daughter?”

We’d thought a bit, consoled her, to go back to Indonesia to try to get the status changed, but, it’d been, a very long time since she’d, changed her information, and, the costs of the funeral would not be, something small.

She’d thought for a bit, and we could tell, she was, really, distraught.

In the end, other than registering her mother as her “aunt” and her being the “niece” of the deceased, she’d, used their real status, but, as the funeral processions happened, she’d started, wailing in front of her own mother’s coffin, cried on how she wasn’t fitting as a daughter, not being able to, give her own mother, a rightful status when she’d died.

Sometimes I’d wondered, so long, as she’d, treated her aunt like a mother in her heart, took care of her, like her real daughter would, would it be important, that the status of “mother” is, specified?

That Most Unforgettable Household Registry

On yet, another day, came, a man, there was a lady who’d, cried so hard outside, actually, this wasn’t, any sort of a big deal, for the death of a spouse, we’d thought, that it would be rarer, if the person doesn’t cry at all.

And yet, this man’s body was only, accompanied by this one woman in his family, and she’d told us, that she’ll, give us the paperwork of their relations later on.

And, as we’re, about to, place him in the ice bins, the woman asked, “can I, say some final words to him?”, we’d nodded.

She’d bent down, patted the man’s head, “Honey, this, is the very first time I called you honey, it’s also, the last, you need to take care of yourself on the other side. Thank you for looking after me so long. You and your older brother, are, the most perfect men I’d ever met in this life, I love you………”

She’d, started, crying like HELL at the icebins, but, as she’d, walked away, she’d, become, very strong.

At this time, the proof of relationships came.

This had happened a long, long time ago, but sometimes, I’d still, gotten reminded of that household registry, with only TWO people registered, the relationship being brother and sister-in-law.

Sometimes, I’d thought, “status”, didn’t seem, so important at times like these.

And so, for the sake of paperwork, you’d, needed to, prove your relationships to the deceased and sometimes, it’s, more complicated than that, because, the two of you may have, related to each other as a husband and wife, but, you’re, actually not, you might be related, in other ways, and yet, the system mandated that we need to proof our status, who we are, in relations, to one another, to have our, loved ones, properly, buried.