Chapter II: A New Beginning

A. My highly sensitive
I got a job offer yesterday. It is a construction company headquartered in Ho Chi Minh City, a major city in the south of my country. They have a project through my province. So now I am in a rented room in another town to facilitate the new job. This job means a lot to me. You will know why later. That is not a very happy story. The issue I want to raise in this book has caused me and my people so much trouble, I personally feel it is unnecessary to tell a non-fiction story that is not finished and will probably have a lasting impact starting with sad stories, so I will tell you that story later.
The room is about 20m2, cleaned before I come. The house owner is an old couple. They say they ran a karaoke bar but a few months ago, they started to use the rooms for rent. No wonder I see an A4 piece of paper paste on the wall in the bathroom: "Please do not throw trash in the toilet". And a wash basin and a table placed outside the bathroom must have been added later, for cooking, as they say. I bought a mattress, pillow, blanket, a small table, a small clothes rack for the room, and some essential items for the bathroom.
After arranging those things, I went out to take a look around this place. I live in the center of town, next to the market. As my house owner said, the market was on this side, it was moved to the other side of the street one year ago. A few remaining stores are eating houses and barber shops. They look old but there are more customers coming to those stores than the restaurants and salons newly built. I do not want to eat or cut my hair, so I walk back and cross the street. The market closed. I see only a few fruit stalls and clothing stores still open. I do not want to buy clothes either, so I skip those stores, continue walking. Around the market is more bustling. There are many eateries: coffee bars, snack bars,… Here and there are a few lots under construction.
I stop in front of a bright yellow milk tea cart. Looking at the decoration and the bartender, I think the taste will not be bad. I ordered a cup of traditional milk tea with flan and black sugar boba. While waiting, I see a young couple comes over. Almost everyone turns their attention to them. The girl has a beautiful body and dresses quite coolly, while the boy is holding her hand very proudly.
- What does this young lady want to buy? – An employee asks the girl.
- Yes, a cup of green tea with a full topping.
- Just wait a minute.
- Yes.
A carefully made cup of green tea rapidly is quickly given to the girl.
- Madam, yours is 30,000. – Another employee says.
I stand there, and see the surrounding air changes instantly. The girl receives the milk tea with shame. She awkwardly pays. The boy shyly avoids the gazes of the others, who their jealousy was satisfied and are enjoying the despicable pleasure of bringing down the couple. Some others quickly turn away, as if they are afraid that someone will point out and criticize their ability to evaluate beauty and ugliness. And two employees exchange their glances and smile with each other, I know this has probably happened many times before.
A lot of questions appear in my mind: Why are those two employees so mean? Why is the girl shameful? Why does the boy shyly avoice others? Why does he not hold his girl hand tighter? Why do the others have that despicable pleasure? Why do some others have to turn away? And why do I realize things others cannot realize? Why cannot I just think like them? What good are these thoughts of mine?
But I just keep silent. I say to myself: “I am just a common person, my different thinking is useless” every time I encounter situations like this. I still do not understand why but it seems that in fact, people do not often think rationally nor do they want to think rationally. There was a time when I thought that if I saw something absurd, I would just say it and everything would be fine. But it is not like that. I know there is a high probability that if I say my thoughts now, all those people, will not be able to accept the shame of having their dark sides exposed and will rely on the crowd to laugh at me, including the girl, she will not feel grateful but feels relieved, because the shame is transferred from her to me, and very willing to turn her back on me.
In reality, there are even more extreme cases, when passersby dare not to stop to help people in accidents, because they themselves become the target of being cursed, beaten and forced to compensate the accident victim. Humans are so funny.
The employee gives me the milk tea cup with both hands, big smiles and speaks warmly:
- Thank you for your support. If you find it delicious, please come back and support us next time.
I do not like this. That is really sarcastic when she neglected her role as an employee by behaving so shamefully towards her customer, and then she uses the employee role to enjoy the results of that behavior. She was enthusiastic towards me to pretend not to know what was going on and show to everyone that she is just a very exemplary employee, making her shameful behavior look like she was just casually stating the truth. This also helps those who felt gloating are relieved, thinking that their support on the good side saves them from unpleasant feelings. They actually felt a sense of shame in their hearts for the joy they had, so they have a urge to erase that feeling to rebalance. She gave them a reason for them to think that they are still good people.
I do not want to become indifferent. I do not want to turn a blind eye either. But I also do not want to bring trouble upon myself. I look deep into her eyes, keep it so long and she understands. She feels uneasy, blinks and diffidently looks away. I hope If she knows somebody may see her malice, she will stop doing such behaviors.
I keep walking and in a corner, I see a karaoke bar. I am more interested in it than other shops, so I step inside.
- How many people are going? – The receptionist stands up and asks me.
- I go alone.
- Just you?
- Have you never seen anyone sing karaoke alone?
- Not yet.
- Now you see. Just get me a plate of fruit. And can I bring this milk tea cup?
- Yes. Do you have any other requests?
- No.
He leads me into the first room, right behind the reception desk.
I ask for the light to be as bright as possible, no flashing lights, no air conditioning, just fan and sit down near the song selection board. It is a small room, with a U-shaped sofa running along three walls, a stone table in the middle, and a stereo system on the opposite side. There are no pictures or other decorations.
It has been a few months since I last sang. “Hoping I do not sit here crying” – I say and laugh at myself. I smile at my own foolishness when I realize I am wondering which song to sing first. “You are just singing karaoke alone now” – I remind myself and press “ARTR”, then choose the first line “A Realm to Return” and grab the mic. Thinking back to the past, I am afraid that I will sing heavily. But it turns out that when I sit here and sing to myself, I find myself singing very calmly, without any bitterness or sadness.
I have sung for two hours, singing all kinds of songs: western and eastern, old and new, happy and sad, love and broken hearts… Letting all my emotions rise up, and pour them all out.
If I have been deliberately peeling off layers of my thoughts through posts for so long but still never felt like I was fully myself, then I accidentally found that in my voice. It is not because it is good like people say. Others may not know, but I know my voice has defects. This is okay with me, actually. I am not a singer. So instead of spending time and effort to overcome those defects by others standards, I try to sing as I really want.
The receptionist said with admiration: “You sing so well” when I pay the bill. I smile at him. My voice seems to be the only thing that harmonizes between me and this world. I can be myself and others still like it. Left, I have to hear things like: You need to be like this when you go to school, like that when you go to work, you have to behave like this in this situation, you have to feel like that in that situation... I am so sick of these stereotypes, I do not fit into any of them.

While surfing Facebook, I see a video sharing an office staff’s thoughts in a day, both real and satirical. “Yes, work has its unpleasant situations, but somehow it is fun.” - I say to myself, remembering the happy times at my old company.
For more than two years since I created Lac Lac, Facebook has given me the feeling that it understands me more and more, as if it has followed me everywhere, was happy with me, sad with me, even guided me when I was confused, gave me suggestions when I had problems.
I see another post with the caption “After the darkest night, the sun will rise every morning”, I think it is talking to me, I am almost sure it knows I will have a new start tomorrow.
Scrolling down a bit more, the chorus of the song “A Flowery Path” ring out loudly:
“…I silently pray that youth with many wishes will bloom everywhere
Bringing you under that roof in the storm
Hope that time will erase all lies and vanity…”
“What a great song for today!” I copy the link and open Lac Lac to post it, with the caption above.