Village Motorbike

When I drove back my hometown last two weeks, there was a motorbike that didn’t want to move aside even though the road was wide enough for it to let me pass by, and it was moving so slow as if the rider, a middle-aged man with a sarong and no helmet, just wanted to test me.

I feel like I just want to hit and crash over the bike, then probably let him die under my car. (Of course, I didn’t.)

I wrote that using dictation as driving slow made it possible for me to hold my phone and asked Siri to take notes of how I was feeling, like the reporter with the audio recorder – interviewing myself.

Rereading it today made me realise how ugly anger and annoyance can be. Sometimes, we aren’t just aware. Writing things down gives me the context of my situations when I couldn’t decipher them myself.

Self-awareness is scary. Being honest to yourself, too, is.

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