Magazines, Connaught Place

Magazines, Connaught Place (Photo credit: prolix6x)

When I was a teenager pupil in my junior high school, the school teachers told us that in the central library at Taipei City, the researching savants were always forgetting their biological timing. Oh, they forgot to be engaging with someone else, getting married, having children and consisting a family. My art teacher Mr Huang was just forty year old and looked like a single male when we were fourteen, and the young female teachers were making fun of him, saying that he was the one as depicted. But later we found his son Huang was in our class. The dude who was in politics at that time as an English secretary or something, he was complaining that his old friends were only making a living but without marriages. And he cannot forgive them with this. Nobody listened to him, you know. One of my rich-father elementary school senior classmate when I went to the elementary several years earlier out of the reason being driving out the urban kindergarten by that so called “child malign abuse” misdeeds, he was leading an information trying to reveal us as an eleven-year-old child to come to that library. And he discovered another such time-forgetting savant Mr Lin in that library, with kind of savant syndrome. He was trying to conclude that savant was to read all those newspapers in the central library but without paying subscription fees to the publishers, and so forth that was resulting to his memory, time deficiency to forget his marriage in his early forties. However, we still found that one of my junior high school classmate Lin was that savant’s young son. And that library savant Mr Lin seemed to hear about this, coming to our junior high school to send his son a lunch box, also clear the air. That’s sarcastic, I might say, as I was beyond my forty years old without their good fortune of biological time essence.

Nevertheless, I paid the newspaper and magazines subscription fees. Recently I found a picture in the Psychology Today magazine. Ouch, there was photo of a local female popular singer in this month’s PT, and the message in-library coming to my sense it was hinted ambiguously that she was dead! One of that privy from local law establishment of my classmate lured me to write that intangible message down. “How would the photo of a local singer being posted on that PT magazine without anything happened?” But as to me, my subscription to magazine PT was just due last month. I did not have this issue. Therefore, I did not write this down. Later some earlier incoming message getting back to reveal one word or another about this singer, saying that my classmate of the law establishment had met her in the states. But something my classmate hadn’t revealed to anybody, was that she explained to him that because she was disliked by everybody and she did not want to stay here anymore. That’s all. That female singer could be alive in her second life in the states, but for some reasons they were making an investigating alike survey, because although she was alive she had been getting through some kind of death experience. The picture prompted up without sincerely revealing the fact at first hand. So lucky I have subscribed to that magazine without following the advice of that library in 2006. Because my subversion case against local rich business family and government criminal police department still on-going in law court and I was undergoing a hospital mental evaluating order from the district court. This was of crucial importance because it would definitely affect my case in the law court. That’s all. How lucky I am, thank God.

DB, November 5, 2012

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s