y.de.chu’s

Last Wednesday, I got knocked down by a motorcycle while getting down from a bus.

It was a morning with very heavy traffic, a route that would usually take up 45 minutes in a car took up 2 hours that day. The bus stopped a bit in front instead of exactly at the bus stop. I was talking on the phone… AND… I didn’t check if there’s anything (a ghost maybe?) from the left before getting down. And “AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH……….!!!” ycfoo screamed and landed on the tar road. The next minute when I was conscious, I was already squatting on the walking path beside the road. I tried to stand up but found myself unable to support myself hence squatted down again. The motorcyclist actually scolded me and then sped off. A malay.

Responses from people when I narrated this accident were, “Didn’t you scold back?” “Didn’t you ask for money for medical checkup?” Huhu… I couldn’t even raise my head to look at that motorcyclist how could I raise my voice to fight for my right or to scold?

But then… that’s not the point of this entry. I think I’ve already given up on this country. I never expected the motorcyclist or anyone witnessing the accident to give a hand. Typical lar, Malaysians. And YES, I’m VERY AWARE that I’m also a Malaysian and that I’m one of the many products of our nation’s FAILED education.

Again… that’s not the point of this entry HAHA. I got bruises, some small external wounds and scratches over my body. And I got muscle pain, especial on my left arm that got knocked by the motorcycle and the right butt that landed on the tar (=.=). Yeah, they are painful. But, what are them compared to what people I know say and do to me? These wounds leave scars on my skin; words and actions of people I know leave scars on my heart. I know how to get rid of the scars on skin, and I can make it as long as I have plenty of money. But, does anyone know… how to get rid of the scars on the heart? Do you know?

p/s: ok, this world is not so dark lar. A guy in the workshop right in front of the scene was looking at me when I stood up later on. I asked to borrow the toilet. He was standing right outside of the toilet when I got out and asked with concern if I was alright and if I got any wounds. I could tell that he was worried. He was a Chinese.

Yes, I’m racist. Judge me and sue me!

Filed under: Uncategorized on October 4th, 2009