My first thought when I saw his tweet was the number of likes it had compared to mine. My reflexive feeling was meh it’s a simple, unsophisticated, low-effort tweet yet it got 30+ likes. My thread about my fight with my brother was much more interesting but it hardly had any likes. It must be pretty disconcerting and depressing to pour your heart out (confess) on twitter only for nobody to respond to it. Sometimes I feel like other people's works are only meh but it gets so much more attention than my work.

On second thought, whether a tweet gets surfaced on someone’s timeline depends on the time, algorithm or “some magic box” as Saurya said. That’s not including my rate of tweeting etc; in fact, a lot of it is out of one’s control. It’s good to have confidence in my own work, but the consistency of my work shouldn’t be reliant on other people’s feedback. I will still do me.

I guessed what happened when I felt that was because I wanted to gain followers. That sort of created pressure for me to put out work, thus I felt that way. It’s the same during my bootcamp. I wanted other people to acknowledge my competence and perhaps even superiority in a certain field. I wanted respect but my behaviour was in no way like a leader's, it doesn't inspire confidence.

I despise weakness maybe it’s because my dad is soft. When I heard stories about how my dad had been bullied at work, I was filled with rage. I wanted to teach all those people a lesson, even though it’s been years or decades since it happened. This reminds me of the Chinese idiom sleep on brushwood and taste gall or 卧薪尝胆. The prince, Goujian, slept on firewood and ate gall bladder every night to remind himself of his three years of captivity. I don’t mean to say I am special or anything, I simply have a lot of patience. If patience is half of faith, it is half of vengeance too.

I don’t forget who was nice to me and who wasn’t. My motto in life is to forgive but don’t forget. I still remember the Christian dude from my school who kicked me when I was down. I still remember the narcissist. I still remember the popular guy. I still remember what happened; it’s a source of pain and surprisingly strength too. It serves as a constant reminder.

Here’s something funny that happened recently to my dad. My dad is semi-retired and drives night shift taxi for some income. He rents the taxi from a full-time morning shift driver. Recently due to the closure of night clubs and entertainment venues, his income has fallen to the point of losing money from the rental every day. He was poised to lose a few hundred until phase 2 of reopening. Therefore, he decided not driving anymore until further reopening of the economy. That’s when the quarrel with the driver started, it devolved into him insulting my dad:

Him: “You are not a man, but a girl.”

Him: “You touch your hand and tell me how much you need to pay me”

Me typing for my dad: “My heart says one dollar”

My point is you don’t have to take insults seriously. Most of them are meant to provoke some kind of reaction from you.

Last updated: 25 July 2021