MAY 30 — First, be very careful what you say to me. Use the word "comet" and I may probe you further about the forthcoming meteor apocalypse I know you were trying to tell me about.
Say "trigonometry" and I could feel in danger of being next to someone with a gun — why else would you use talk about a trigger if you didn’t intend to pull one?
Talk about "oyster sauce" and you could be guilty of conjuring up images of sorcery in my head. Don’t you know how evil witchcraft is? Are you not concerned about using black magic? Aren’t you afraid of hell and, most importantly, what are you planning to do with me?
I don’t need such stress.
I am already concerned about the occasional blaring of horns beneath my apartment. They are from truck drivers who — for reasons I can’t explain — have a message (if not an intention) for me.
Why are they using their horns if not to signal something to me? I have even gone down to the road to ask them what the problem is. Why are they horning at me, 10 floors above? Do they have something to say?
Secondly, your shirt colour looks almost exactly like the colour of a comb in my room. We don’t live together, so how could this be? Please do not tell me that this is merely a coincidence. You wore that to mock me, didn’t you? To cruelly indicate that you have been watching me, stalking my family. Why?
My life isn’t easy at all. I cannot concentrate on my work because I’m concerned about how so many of my colleagues look like my cousins, my personal acquaintances, etc. Who are these people? Do they all have twin siblings?
“Hi, you there. Did we work together eight years ago? Because you look just like the Indian lady sitting next to me. No? How remarkable!”
Now, please don’t say it. You believe I’m crazy, don’t you? You think I should see a doctor, take pills and basically be treated like a loony, don’t you? Never.
I.
Am.
Not.
"Crazy."
You haven’t seen what I’ve seen, heard what I’ve heard – how can you judge me?
And isn’t labelling people "mentally sick" a way of controlling them? Just leave me be. If you don’t wish to answer my questions, if you wish to continue hiding your devious plans from me, I cannot stop you.
And, yes, that includes my wife whom I’m certain either had an affair or is having one. I can’t explain it; I simply know she’s up to no good.
That’s the problem with spouses out to make money from their other halves. Money is a problem which is why I always take every email promising me US$3million as something to be investigated.
Isn’t it silly to ignore such "manna from heaven" when we are always struggling with cash? And, should these emails be lies, I demand to know how they found out my email address! Don’t these people know that telling lies is a very bad thing? Even worse, I take financial promises very seriously. It simply doesn’t make sense to me how one party can promise another party so much money and not honour it.
Sleep? That’s another tough one. My mind keeps running, it can’t shut off. The other day I downloaded a book from Google, something which I must insist – over and over again – was perfectly legal. I have never ever intended to break any copyright laws. Damn my colleagues for suggesting that I’m a law-breaker! Damn them!
In fact, I strongly suspect that the book I downloaded? It doesn’t exist. No, hear me out. I wrote to the publisher demanding to know if the book is real or not. Guess what, I got no reply. It’s bizarre, it’s just very weird. And, ok, I got a reply later but I’m not convinced. There’s something sinister going on.
So this is my plan. I will travel to England, go straight to Cambridge, walk straight up to the librarian and demand to see a physical copy of the book. Yes, that ought to sort things out.
I told my wife my plans. She freaked out on me, reprimanding me for even thinking of such a "stupid" proposal. She said that spending thousands of ringgit on such trips is a bad joke. But she doesn’t understand, does she? How else am I going to get a good night’s rest, when people are lying to me about the existence of this particular book? Do you see my dilemma?
And all this while the accusations and the spying continue. The other day my son scraped his finger in school – how dare these people target him?! How dare these wretched bastards hurt my children?!
My wife — being her usual uncaring self (and complicit with my enemies, I simply know it) – told me it was a simple playground wound. But she doesn’t understand, she just refuses to see my point. Oh, yes, she told me the teachers were there and helped my son. C’mon! Isn’t it obvious the teachers are part of the conspiracy?!
Let me explain again: People are out to get me. They’ve been out to get me for many years. They’ve been spying on our house and even during our family holidays. My recent trip to Singapore? The lady in the hotel lobby was talking about the Da Vinci Code. Seriously, how could she possibly know that I was reading that exact Dan Brown novel (which, honestly, has a lot of truth in it)? Now you see what I mean when I say that there are spies everywhere?
And no, no, no! I didn’t cheat anybody, I never took any money which wasn’t mine, all my documents are in order.
Please know what I’m saying to you – I am innocent. Which is why I cannot accept being monitored and accused and targeted.
What kind of world is this? What kind of people spy on and threaten others?
Why me. Why.
* Note: If you have a loved one of whom the above is even mildly descriptive, know that you are not at all alone and I hope you’ll be able to find the support you need. That phrase "special child"? It may help to think of such persons as "special" too.
** This is the personal opinion of the columnist.
