sept 12, 2002
Today I had a quarrel with my mother. She said coming to hongen everyday is a waste of time, she said hongen is a useless place. I was very angry when I heard that, so we began a not so pleasant debate.
I had learned lot things in hongen, and I had known so many great people in hongen, and I had picked up a part of the confidence that I lost a long time ago. Things that hongen had given me, she had given too little.
Since I was young, I got good grades in every subject. Whenever I went home overjoyed with my good grade, my mother just responded with a “en, not bad.” No encouragement, no praise, just a nod or a sound which told me that she knew, and that’s all. She never knew how sad I was, she never knew how hard I work to earn my grade, and all she gave to me, was an “en.”
Every time when I was unhappy, she would promise me with good things. She said if I keep my good grades, I could watch TV. (I could only watch TV during weekends, and I could go online everyday for an hour at the most) I did keep up my grade, but I never got to watch TV during weekdays. She had told me that if I get A for every class last semester, she would let me read comics (I like to read Japanese comic books and learn their way of drawing). I did get A for every class, but I had seen none of the comics she had promised me before.
I had a hongen ID a long time ago, but I only became active this summer. I had made many friends in hongen, and had read lots of brilliant articles. Also, I had improved my writing skills, and I had gain stars for some of my articles. In hongen, I got to know that I am not just a useless person; in hongen, I know that the world is still very beautiful; in hongen, I know that life, is not just about suffering and miseries. Because of hongen, my heart sings again. I found light in the dark.
I had never thought that people would like what I wrote, I had never knew that I have the talent of writing. No matter how many rewards I had won, no matter how many competitions I had participated, no matter how famous I am, and no matter how much my teachers had praised me, I had never believe that I, could write something. But in hongen, my articles had brought me many friends, it had shown me how big this world is, and it also had let me felt true friendship between people. Why do I come to hongen everyday? It is not only because of him, it is also because that every time when I read articles or replying messages, I would always carries the moon on my lips. That smile is not the one I used as a mask everyday, it is from the deepest bottom of my heart.
But today, my mum had once again said that hongen is just a place to kill time, she said I spent too much time there. It seems to me that I can’t have any other activities except studying. I can’t watch TV, I can’t go to places she called useless when I was online, I can’t read novels, I can’t chat with friends. I can’t do this, I can’t do that. But, I can go out with them during weekends.
I could only do homework when I was online, and I had to study from day to night, but if I went to hongen to study/improve my English, she would be mad. My English teacher had told us to read English novels to improve our writing and grammar usage, but she said those books are useless, and are used to kill time only. I can’t watch TV, even the English ones, because she can’t understand what they are talking about. I can’t chat with friends, even if I was asking about homework, because that is another waste of time. No matter what I do in hongen, post articles or replying messages, they called that chatting. It doesn’t matter if I use Chinese or English, those are not allowed.
Some people say I am very cruel, as I would use any kind of proper ways to have my revenge done, but they don’t know what kind of things had made me into the me they saw today. The first time I returned to china after I had went overseas, I found my best friend, and my boyfriend together. My best friend had hurt me before, but I had forgiven her and now she had betrayed me again. The boy I like the most, and the girl I trust the most had betrayed me together, and had tried to keep their relationship away from me. Do you know how hurt I was? Can you imagine how devastated I was? After I returned to Singapore, a lot of people had looked down on me just because I am a foreigner. I had listened to all those unbearable sentences. Prostitute, was used to describe a pure, open, easy-going, and hardworking twelve years old girl, do you know how angry I was when I heard some boys called me that? People can not remained the same after he(she) had gone through all those. I had changed, I transformed into some stranger. I changed, I grew so cruel, yet so friendly. To enemies, I am cruel to the bottom; to friends, I greet them with a smile.
My mother said she know me, everyday she would say she know exactly what I am thinking. But does she really know? Does she know how much happiness being in a foreign country brings me, and how much pain it brings me? Does she know how other people make fun of me in school? Does she know how it feels to be threatened, to be pushed aside by others, to be ignored? Does she know how I fight my sky with my blood and tears? Does she know how much efforts I had to put in order to be not bullied by others, in order to let others notice me, notice my talents? She knows that I am a stubborn person, if I made a decision, I would achieve it. She knows that I am a very determined person. She knows that how nice, how smart, how brilliant, how matured, how understanding I am in other’s eyes, but she doesn’t know how much I had to suffer, in order to have that one moment of glory.
My mother never knew what happened in school, as I believe I could handle those alone. Even if I told her, she would just tell me not to think about it. She never knew about my blood, and never knew about my tears. The only thing she knows is to tell me to study everyday. She only knows she wants me to be as outstanding as I was before, she only knows that I should have a sky to my own, just like I did when I was in China and in Singapore.
I can’t help but being sad. My own mother doesn’t even know how I feel. My mother, who said she knows me, but the one thing she doesn’t know about at all, is my heart. And now, she tried to steal away my happiness. She thinks that the place, which has brought me so much joy, so much happiness, is a totally useless place.
