And I should be feeling awesome.
If not incredibly relaxed,
at the very least filled with excitement
at the potential of what
the following days could bring.
But yep,
you guessed it.
Nope.
The fourth morning,
and there's a sadness in me
that won't go away.
It's more than just one incident or one thing or one person.
It's more than just my own wife
putting down my efforts and suggestions
at how to make a living,
or even just to make a small bit of money first.
I'd accept constructive criticism.
But the answer in the form of a drawn out 'I don't knowwww'
or 'It doesn't feel like it could work'
does not help in any way.
And I keep thinking of the smiling racists in Singapore.
They smile at you,
speak nicely with you,
even hang out with you from time to time.
But behind your back,
and when it comes to the things that really matter
like jobs and education,
you get the short end of the stick because of who you are.
I call them the smiling racists,
because they'll smile warmly,
as they float in their boats, both big and small...
while you're slowly sinking in the water,
hindering - gently, oh ever so gently but firmly - your efforts to remain afloat.
They smile as you and your family sink to the bottom of the ocean.
And then they pat themselves on the back
thinking about what kind, decent human being they are.
Fuck them.
With the internet being what it is,
there are more options now.
I'll find a way,
like I always do.
Because I don't have a choice.
Yesterday I lost my shit
when a dog's snout touched my daughter.
I cursed and screamed and kicked trees,
and would probably have hurt the two idiot women
who didn't pull on the leash fast enough
as they were chatting about whatever inane things people like that chat about.
Thing is,
these things happen.
And I should've been more careful.
But I just lost my temper,
as Jenia took her away.
That was unacceptable.
I mean, what kind of message does that send the baby?
Hell, she might even have thought that I was upset with her.
I wanted to do a reboot,
like you do when you've made a horrible mistake.
And I realized that I need to train myself to avoid shouting and cursing.
Sure it's all fun and jokes,
until you almost lose control,
and the dark side of you comes out.
The baby deserves more than that.
I need to train myself on language,
and on focusing on the solution first.
The anger will subside.
And if action needs to be taken,
I'll take it.
But not out of anger.
Even if there's a chance that
I'd feel more anger later for not doing something about it then,
I could always file it away as a contingency for next time,
the way I do for certain incidents that I've had to just let go,
because they took me by surprise.
File away a template.
Keep it ready.
Just in case.
You can't win every single battle.
It's 8am,
and I'm in the hall and the sun is bright in between two tall buildings outside the window.
The whole room is now filled with a bright, soft glow.
I'd like to think that it's a sign.
There's more things of course.
The fact that I feel left out of conversations
with my wife's side of the family.
The exhaustion that comes with looking after a truly hyperactive baby.
You can't get anything done,
and if you do,
your wife resents you for it,
because she feels like she needed your help with the baby.
I still need to earn money.
I'm still trying to shake off the feeling of
fucking racists not accepting the way I speak,
my command of English.
As if my brown skin is supposed to produce an accent or something.
Or maybe I shouldn't be using some of the slang that 'Westerners' use.
I need to shake that off.
Fuck every single one of them.
Today I'll pick a gym and get my peanut butter.
Yes, I realize that sounds a little funny.
Tomorrow my new routine begins.
There's be plenty of things to be depressed about,
but for now, I've got shit to do.
Let's hope for a productive day.
Well enough of that.
