My Soliloquy

My Memory Lane

There are some nightmares you don’t have to fall asleep to fall into. Some of us are born into one. Childhood is where we started. The problem is that some of us do not have one. If you have lived like street dogs, you know it’s hard to be a master of your own fate. We don’t get warm beds, warm food, smiles and hugs of assurance from our parents most of the time. Getting a spit on the face by a parent was a common childhood memory for some of us.

So where did my story start? Was it when my grandfather left the family when he was on the run or was it that day my father staggered out from the battlefield? Or was it just a subtle series of unfortunate events one after another inherited through the generations which I had been struggling to break that curse?

My father had a very low opinion of people, however, I believe he harbored some hope in humanity. It would be harder for him as his father had abandoned him to the battlefields in his teens. For years, I struggled to reconcile how anyone could do that to their own children.

I know he still harbors hope, else he wouldn’t have named me “benevolence”.

In our family doctorine, there were 2 constradicting lines:
1. 以仁治天下者, 为亡者 (yǐ rén zhì tiān xià zhě, wèi wáng zhě, The one who rules with benevolence - will perish.)
2. 以仁治天下者, 为王者 (yǐ rén zhì tiān…