Running head: A MEMOIR
A Memoir
Yun-Hui Tsai
University of New Mexico
Author Note
Yun-Hui Tsai, Language, Literacy & Sociocultural Studies, University of New Mexico
Correspondence concerning this article should be addressed to Yun-Hui Tsai,
Language, Literacy & Sociocultural Studies,
University of New Mexico, Albuquerque, NM 87131.
Contact: [email protected]
Abstract
In the world of globalization, being able to understand other culture comprehensively
and correctly is a must. Compare with mass media such as television shows or video
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games, which often focuses on the stereotypes, 5Fs (food, fashion, folklore, famous
people, and festivals), or even wars, literature, such as global and international
literature, provide us a good source to deepen our knowledge toward people different
from us. However, the current publishing market has a lack of literature of other
culture to better present the increasing immigrant population. Moreover, the
authenticity of a book is the social responsibility of all authors and illustrators,
regardless they are insiders or outsiders. I chose to write a memoir about my
childhood that was closely connected to Taiwanese religion, in hopes that it could let
more English readers know my country.
Keywords: globalization, culture, global literature, authenticity, memoir
Introduction
With the development of transportation and technology, communication and
connection between people around the world have increased rapidly. As Short (2011)
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stated, “our lives are going global” (p. 130). To be successful in this modern society
of globalization, knowledge and skills of the world were necessary (Short, 2011).
Culture
When speaking the issue of global knowledge, we should pay attention to the
important concept of culture. Ting-Toomey (1999) defined culture as “a diverse pool
of knowledge, shared realities, and clustered norms that constitute the learned systems
of meanings in a particular society” (as cited in Ford and Moore, 2004). Fennes and
Hapgood (1997), Hofstede (1991), and Allan (2003) used the term “interculturalism”
to refer to “understandings and relationships of diverse cultural groups that cross
outside the boundaries of countries” (as cited in Short, 2011). However, Short (2011)
argued that people usually learned other culture through television or video games,
which often consisted of stereotypes or superficial issues such as the 5Fs: food,
fashion, folklore, famous people, and festivals. Fennes and Hapgood (1997) adapted
the “iceberg concept” to illustrate that these aspects were just like the surface of
iceberg. We needed to explore the deep structure of the iceberg, which contained the
core value and beliefs, to better grasp the full picture of one culture (as cited in Short,
2011).
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Global Literature
Literature, as an important form of expression of a culture, could be a good
source. Short (2011) claimed the following:
Literature offers unique possibilities, in particular the opportunity for students to
go beyond a tourist perspective of surface-level information about another
culture. Literature invites readers to immerse themselves into story worlds to
gain insights about how people live, feel, and think around the world—to
develop emotional connections and empathy as well as knowledge. These
connections go beyond the surface knowledge of food, dance, clothing, folklore,
and facts about a country to the values and beliefs that lie at the core of each
culture. (p. 130)
Among all genres of literature, Short (2013) emphasized the “global literature”,
which referred to the books that set in international contexts and were written and
published in the United States, along with multicultural and international literature,
were valuable in variable dimensions such as addressing contemporary issues and
developing shared experiences. Lehman, Freeman and Scharer (2010) also agreed that
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these genres of literature were not only important sources of global knowledge, but
also very helpful for children’s cognitive, emotional, moral and social development.
However, there was still a marked shortage of books about other cultures
compared to the percentage of the population that these books represent (Short, 2013).
Lehman et al. (2010) further pointed out that there were less than 5% of literature that
was about global culture, and most of it was either picture books, folklore or travel
books. To improve our understanding across countries and cultures, we needed to
create, advocate and encourage more global literature.
Authenticity
To learn one culture in a more comprehensive and accurate way, just “any”
work won’t do. The content of it must be authentic. Bishop (2003) defined
authenticity as “the success with which a writer is able to reflect the cultural
perspectives of the people whom he or she is writing about, and make readers from
the inside group believe that he or she ‘knows what’s going on’” (as cited in Short &
Fox, 2003). Mo and Shen (2003) also accentuated that “cultural authenticity is not just
accuracy or the avoidance of stereotypes, but involves cultural values, facts, and
attitudes that members of the culture as a whole consider worthy of acceptance and
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belief” (as cited in Short & Fox, 2003). Although these ideas seemed to be subjective
for insiders and hard to recognize for outsiders, authors and illustrators still had the
social responsibility to create an authentic work (Short & Fox, 2003). Authenticity
was very important because insiders had the right to see themselves in a book with
true experiences instead of misrepresentations, and because outsiders could learn
about others from that book (Short & Fox, 2003).
As a Taiwanese, my aim in this paper was to write about my own story, to
address the deep structure of Taiwanese culture and belief that are lacking in the
current global literature, and most importantly, to strive for providing authentic
information. Being an insider as well, Woodson made a clear claim to this situation,
“we don’t want publishers to say, ‘Well, we already published a book about that,’ and
then find that it was a book that did not speak the truth about us but rather told
someone-on-the-outside’s idea of who we are” (Woodson, 2003, p. 45).
Non-Fiction
I chose to write a memoir to achieve my goal in this paper. Nonfiction, the
genre that the memoir belonged to, provides “definitions, terminology, and facts to
make the issues real; not just an interesting story, but something actually happening in
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the world” (Thomas & Short, 2009). Colman (2007) also pointed out that nonfiction
allowed its readers to “gain the knowledge and skills that enable them to reach sound
decisions in all arenas of life, avoid gullibility born of ignorance, and participate in an
informed and active citizenry” (p. 257).
The theme in my life story was the Taiwanese religion, Taoism. Short (2013)
explained that, “as the mainstream religious culture in the United States, Christianity
dominates children’s books. Books that portray other religious cultures, including
Buddhist, Hindu, Jewish, and Muslim cultures, are difficult to find” (p. 15). I think the
formation of memoir was appropriate for my story not only because I could write
what I do know, but also because it could “connect emotion and reason, the heart and
mind’ (Thomas & Short, 2009) with its literary plots and authentic information.
I really hoped that my country and my culture could be more visible through my
true story.
Memoir
Strangers came to my house at night.
We lived in a five-story apartment building. Each floor had two condos, with
their doors facing each other in just few steps away. It was not common in a mansion
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of five for us to have an elevator, but we were lucky to own one, especially when we
lived on the highest floor of it.
Because we owned the top-level suite, it was natural that we also owned the
rooftop of this building. Like all other top-floor owners usually did, my father built
another unit on the rooftop. Even though it was illegal to build an addition, it seemed
to be a custom to create more space up high, as a cheap rental, a small business, or a
home to sleep. If you looked down from the window of a skyscraper, it would be hard
to miss all those gable or flat roofs. Some additions were made of iron, some were
made of brick. Most of them had little insulation, extremes of temperature, fragile
structures, and mold covered on their walls. They were cheap but dangerous
constructions.
But not ours.
My father chose this building not just because of the elevator. When he heard
the builder was going to use steel that could hold seven floors on this five-story
mansion, he knew that this was the one for us. He decided to make the addition in
reinforced concrete. He utilized the best materials, adopted the hardest techniques,
and made it just like a part of the whole building. The perfect sixth floor.
This is where the strangers came.
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We didn’t sleep in this house. Neither did we rent it to a student or sell goods up
there. We made it someone else’s home: our Gods. In the religion of polytheistic
Taoism, deities originated from heaven and from hell, from ocean and from land,
from folklore and from actual personage. In this space, dozens of statues of different
Gods in various sizes were placed on a three-layer Chinese altar in order, from four
feet tall to eight inches short, the smaller in the front.
The biggest three in the back row against the wall were the main Goddess and
two auxiliary Gods of this house. In the middle was 媽祖, Mā Zǔ, the most common
Goddess of Taoism in Taiwan. She was originally the patron of fishermen and sailors,
but as time went by, she became the Holy Mother of Heaven to all the people in this
island state. Originated from the real person Lin Mo-Niang, she might be at a lower
level of the hierarchy than other Gods, but she was definitely the representative of the
Taoist deities. Our statue of Mā Zǔ was crafted in a sitting posture with a chair,
painted in golden color, covered in a dragon robe, and put on a phoenix coronet. Her
face was kindly, and when she was happy, you could even feel her smile.
On the right side was 關聖帝君, Guān Shèng Dì Jun, or Saintly Emperor Guan.
As a real life general back to Han Dynasty, there were three possible postures of this
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statue: riding a horse, standing, or sitting. Statues with a horse were very rare, because
it implied war. But it also implied being aggressive, therefore when he rode a horse he
became the patron of salesmen. Standing statues were often with the left hand holding
his beard and the right hand holding the green dragon crescent blade. This dignified
image implied justice and made the standing Saintly Emperor Guan the protector of
policemen. Interestingly, because he was also the symbol of bravery and loyalty, he
became the patron of gangsters as well. Our statue was sitting, with his right hand
holding his beard and the left hand on his knee. This posture was more general and
peaceful, but with his red face and serious expression we could still feel the
righteousness.
On the left side was 玄天上帝, Xuán Tiān Shàng Dì, or Supreme Emperor of
the Northern Heaven. He was the God of Polaris that originated from the ancient
Chinese mythology, hence had a higher level than other two main Gods in the Taoist
deity system. Our statue sat on a rock hilltop and symbolized the integral with Earth.
He held the Big Dipper sword on the right, meaning to cut off the three sins of desire,
anger and ignorance; on the left hand he adopted the Bebal Mudra, guiding people the
way to heaven; under his feet he step on a serpent and a tortoise, this not only
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symbolized that good triumphs over evil, but also meant that all these thought would
eventually under his control and became his support. He led us the way and protected
us throughout the road.
In front of them were some smaller statues. They might be the main Gods or the
auxiliary Gods at other places, but here in this house they were the guardians.
Different Gods were in charge of different duties. Mother Goddess was the deity of
childbirth, who held a pen in her right hand and the book of fertility in the left. Prince
Né Zhà, the youth protection deity of Taoism, rode on the Wind Fire Wheels, had the
Red Armillary Sash around his shoulders, and held the Fire-tipped Spear in his right
hand. Bodhisattva Guān Yīn, the Goddess of Mercy, and Gautama Buddha, the
founder of Buddhism, were the good examples that incarnated the blend of Buddhism
and Taoism exclusively in Taiwan. Lord Superior Wen Chang, God of literature and
test. Land Granny, the local guardian who had the lowest status but was closest to the
people…and so many more! There was even a Tiger General that was made just like a
real tiger in a smaller size and was put under the altar to be the helper of Land Granny
and to do the inspection.
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Seeing all these Gods in front of me, it was hard not to be stunned by this
colorful unity: golden bodies, red coronets, silver weapons, green robes. It was like at
a festival, where I could feel the passion and the solemnity, the joy and the peace, all
at the same time.
But the Gods didn’t just sit in this house. We wanted to make them be more
comfortable, feel more, like home.
When I walked in, right in front of me was a huge bronze censer, a bowl shaped
vessel made of copper, with ashes inside it to stick in the burning incense, and three
legs to hold it up. This was the censer only for 玉皇大帝, yù huáng dà dì, or Jade
Emperor, who was the only God in this house that didn’t have a statue but was “up in
heaven”. The incense we used for Jade Emperor and all other Gods were the nineteen-
inch-long joss sticks, with the bottom quarter painted in red and the rest covered with
the powder of sandalwood, aloeswood or Chinese herbs for different aromas. My
father always said the smoke of the burning incense was God’s food. Having more
smoke meant that Gods were served well. “We were proud to have this dark smoked
ceiling” he once pointed up and said.
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Between the censer and Gods there was another altar. On the middle of it was
another smaller censer for all other Gods (except Tiger General who had his own tiny
censer in front of him underneath the altar), and three small bronze cups of the holy
water. We made it by circling the water three times around the burning incense and
drank it when we felt sick or needed more strength. On the two end of the altar there
were a pair of vases for flowers on big days; a pair of lotus table lamps that were
always light up; and a pair of candlesticks for holding the red candle.
Far back to sixth century B.C., one famous Chinese philosopher, 老子 Lǎo Zǐ,
had advocated that human being should all seek the ultimate harmony and balance.
Our behavior should not damage the law of the nature and the simplicity and
cleanliness of our mind. To follow the natural flow of consonance, and to act the
inactivity, were the goal of spiritual practice.
In this house, water represented cleanliness; incense represented the inactivity;
flower represented nature; and candle represented consonance. These four items were
the most important tributes for worshiping the Gods, and these four concepts were the
most important doctrines for believing and pursuing the Taoism, not only
philosophical, but more importantly, religious.
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Yes, this illegally built sixth floor was not just a simple house. It was a temple.
My family owned a temple. Our Mā Zǔ named it 恩義宮 En Yì Gōng, the temple of
grace and righteousness.
At days, 信眾 xìn zhòng, believers came to worship. Unlike going to other
temples which had their own buildings, they had to push the elevator button, take it to
the fifth floor, pass by our condominium door, and walk the stairs to the rooftop.
Entering the temple, there was a little stand on the right hand side near the gate, with a
shelf with bundles of paper money, a vessel with bunches of incense, and a 功德箱 gōng dé xiāng, a merit box for the believers to put any amount they like for the paper
money and the incense they bought. They then put the paper money on the front altar
along with the offerings they brought, usually some fruits or snacks. They lit up nine
sticks of the incense, used two hands to hold the red part of them in front of their
body, and started the worship.
First they faced outside, bowed, and stuck three sticks of incense to greet Jade
Emperor.
Then they turned around, stood or knelt in front of the altar, and prayed.
“Dear Mā Zǔ, Guān Shèng Dì Jun, Xuán Tiān Shàng Dì, and all other Gods,”
they began to talk in silence, “my name is XXX, and I live at OOO place. Today I
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bring some fruits and snacks to worship you and serve you, ” they continued. And
they started detailing their problems, concerns, worries or even complaints: being
sick, suffering from poverty, parenting a difficult child, dealing with a bad boss,
having problems finding a life companion, taking an exam and praying for good
luck…they sometimes talked to the Gods about all these issues like they chatted with
their close friends to disguise their fear, other times they begged to Gods for solutions,
help and mercy. If they asked for specific favors, they made an offer by telling Gods
that they would buy them new coronets, cast them golden medals or make donations.
But still, there were also many believers who came worshipping as a matter of routine
and simply prayed for safety, calm and peace.
After the praying practice, they stuck another three stick of the incense into the
censer on the altar, put their palms together, and bowed. Last they crouched down to
reach the Tiger General, greeted him and stuck the last three sticks of incense into his
own small censer.
It took about an hour to burn up a joss stick. In ancient China people used this to
measure time. They had to wait about “half joss stick” for Gods to enjoy their
offerings. They chatted with each other or wandered around the temple until the
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incense was short enough to do the last rite: burning the paper money. They took up
the paper money using two hands, bowed to the Gods, and took them outside the
house to burn it in the 金桶 jīn tong, the golden barrel. The barrel was made of
stainless steel and usually painted in red. The reason it was called “golden” was
because the paper money, also called the golden money, was made from bamboo pulp
with gold leaves pasted on it. The gold was the actual money Gods received from
burning the paper. Basic money for Gods was a set of five kinds of paper, like
different banknotes of the United States dollar. A stack of money contained about one
hundred pieces of paper. You could buy as many stacks as you want for each kind of
money, but believers usually avoided the number 四 sì, four, because in Chinese it
had a homophone which meant death. After burning the paper money, believers could
finally take the fruits and snacks which were blessed by the Gods, bowed the last time
and go home.
I couldn’t be more familiar with all these rituals. I watched people do it
everyday, and I do it myself many, many times.
But things were different at night. When believers worshiped, they wanted Gods
to help them or bless them. Sometimes, however, they were eager to know the
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directions. They were more worried, like patients, or greedier, like gamblers. But they
were all lost. They need the immediate answer from God, and they need God to “tell”
them.
So here came my grandfather, 廟公 miào gong, the temple host; my
grandmother, 乩身 jī shēn, the psychics; my father, 筆身 bǐ shēn, the explainer, and
my mother, the recorder.
They called this 問事 wèn shì, inquiring.
Every Saturday night around eight pm, strangers started gathering in our temple.
My mother took their registration by writing down their names and questions. My
grandmother lit up the incense and worshipped the Gods. My father put some
sandalwood powder in a tiny censer, ignited it, held the censer in his hands and started
sweeping it around my grandmother’s body in front of the altar. This was called 淨身 jìng shēn, using the smoke of sandalwood to clean and purify the psychic. Then my
grandmother rested her head on the altar, with her hands grabbed the feet of 手轎 shǒu jiào, a tiny chair that was made of wood or stainless steel about the size of a
child chair. It was one of the tools for the communication between Gods and us. Then
she became absolutely motionless, waiting.
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None of us knew how long we had to wait. My grandfather made some tea,
prepared some melon seeds and took out some stools. People would sit down and chat
with each other, waiting.
It was maybe ten minutes, maybe half hour or sometimes even an hour. But all
of a sudden, my grandmother started shaking and retching. The signal of the
beginning of the inquiring. My father, who sat close to my grandmother the whole
time, jumped up immediately and got closer to her in case she fell. My grandfather
and my mother then led the guests went towards the altar.
The shaking and retching lasted for just three to five minutes. It was because the
God was forcing my grandmother’s soul to leave her body. If the psychic didn’t have
enough attainments from his or her Taoist practice, he or she would even had serious
stomachache, like somebody was pulling their intestine. Suddenly once again, my
grandmother stopped acting like she was sick, but started acting like she was
“somebody else”. The God was coming.
My grandmother became the God.
People surrounded the altar and my grandmother. “May I ask who is this
coming to help us?” my father usually started the inquiring with a respectful manner.
But my grandmother was just like an award-winning actress, who played every
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character so well that we didn’t even have to ask her to recognize them. If it was Guān
Shèng Dì Jun, my grandmother would walk in the Big Dipper Step and wave her hand
under her chin like soothing the beards. If it was Guān Yīn, she would walk in the
Lotus Step, adopted the Lotus Mudra and talked like an ancient lady. If it was Né Zhà,
she would jump up and down, giggle in a high tone, and even ask for lollipops!
There were indeed some fake psychics outside. They dressed up and acted like
Gods, cheated believers and asked for at least several thousand Taiwan dollars for the
inquiring.
We never asked them for a fee, though. “A true inquiring doesn’t aim for
making money. It’s a special way to help people.” My father reminded us again and
again. If believers really felt they need to thank our Gods, they put donation into the
merit box, which we collected the money once a while to purchase worshipping stuffs
or maintain the building. But it was never enough. We always had to pay it out of our
own pocket. “If we helped people, our Gods will help us in other ways”. My family
had the faith.
I was not sure if we earned more money elsewhere. But we did help many
believers.
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After my grandmother told people who she or he was, the inquiring officially
began. My father added more powder into the tiny censer. The sandalwood must be
burned and smoke all time to keep the temple absolutely clean. Seeing the smoke
curling from the censer, wreathing the whole space with its rich, deep, powerful and
meditative aroma that permeated our temple and occupied our mind, the atmosphere
became more mysterious.
As every believers asked their questions one by one, our God turned into a
physician who cured illness that doctors had no remedy for; a counselor who provided
life advices for the most complicated situation; or a judge who assured we made the
right decision for ourselves.
One day, our Mā Zǔ came down for the inquiring.
“Dear Mā Zǔ, my left arm hurt so much but the doctor said everything is
normal.” A woman came with her concern.
“You are taking birth control pills right?” Mā Zǔ replied her with marked poise.
Hearing this unexpected query, the woman was too shocked to utter any word but
“yes…?”
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“Prince Né Zhà wants to be your son, but you don't let him. He is angry and
bites you in the arm. Take a closer look at your arm, you will see the bite mark.” Mā
Zǔ disclosed the reason without hesitation.
All the people urgently circled the woman, checked her arm carefully, and
surprisingly discovered three light, little teeth marks on where her pain was. The
woman was stunned.
“But we already have two daughters. That’s why we use contraception for four
years. If this third child would really be a boy, then we will seriously consider it.” The
woman’s accompanying husband confided.
“It will. Just stop the pill and you will conceive a child on the beginning of
spring. As for your pain, I am prescribing three incantations for you,” Mā Zǔ held the
feet of the tiny chair, dipped one of its armrests into the vermilion pigment, and wrote
down some magic spells on three strips of yellow paper. “Burn the first incantation
into a glass of water and drink it; the second one into a washbowl of water and wipe
your arm; and the last one with golden money when you worship.” Mā Zǔ demanded.
The couple came back home, followed the order and the pain dissolved right
away. The woman stopped the pill, but they were too busy to count the date. Few
months had passed and they forgot the inquiring thing.
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One day when they were on the street, they amazingly saw that the obstetrician
who delivered their two daughters when they lived far away years ago, moved to this
town and opened his own clinic. This coincidence reminded them of what Mā Zǔ had
said. Several days later, when the woman encountered her long-lost morning sickness,
they came to the physician and found out that she was really pregnant.
This was not the only magic. The doctor later told them that their conception
day was very likely to be February fifth of the Lunar calendar, which was one of the
24 solar terms: the beginning of spring. The baby was finally born three days after
Prince Né Zhà’s birthday when I was seven years old and my sister was four.
These blessed husband and wife were my father and mother. The little boy was
my dearest brother. This miracle was the most precious treasure to our whole family.
The inquiring continued every Saturday night. So did miracles. Our efficacious
inquiring earned us very good reputation that we usually had around ten believers
came to ask for our Gods’ help every time. My parents and my grandparents hence
had to serve in the temple until one or two A.M.. Sometimes I was allowed to watch,
but most of the times I couldn’t join the rites because it was too late. They had no
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choice but to leave me and my two siblings in our condo. Even I knew my parents
were just upstairs, when my little sister and baby brother were asleep, I felt all along.
Several nights I couldn’t sleep, because the sound from the tiny chair right
above my head was too loud. They used the chair not only to draw incantations, but
also to write down indications on the altar with spreading sandalwood powder, if the
language that Gods spoke was too difficult to understand. The drawing and writing
when using the chair, however, was more like knocking and smacking. In particular,
if the psychics had sexual intercourse the night before the inquiring, they would be
considered not clean. The chair, then, instead of the psychics, would be possessed by
the God. In this case, my grandmother and my father would each hold two feet of it
loosely, and let it move by its own will. It would answer the question by writing on
the altar the whole time.
And this knocking sound kept reminding me “Gods were there”.
When I heard it, the image up there came into my mind at once: the chair
shaking like crazy, my grandmother talking fiercely, or strangers sobbing. Part of me
was relieved because I didn’t need to be there and witness all these scenes. But maybe
it was also because that, deep in my heart, I was afraid that I would lose my
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consciousness under the dense smoke and the heavy smell of the burning sandalwood
powder, like my grandmother lost hers. Yet another part of me was anxious. If I didn’t
stay with my family, would I be left down here when they were in “another world”?
When these thoughts came to my mind, I took out the Walkman my mom
bought me as a birthday gift, put on the earphone, played the pop songs from my most
favorite idol, and listened to sleep.
I was awed by my own God.
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