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My new favorite song, If You Love Me You'll Die, is in Taiwanese, and I can't quite understand it. I played it for someone who does understand.
This week's topics include: “prison internet commentators”, the single best move for street fights, the 35th anniversary of the Tiananmen Square massacre, and a death metal performance I saw in Melbourne.
This non-fiction story is part of a series documenting my ongoing (mis)adventures. You can find previous installments on my Substack homepage. To receive weekly updates in your inbox, consider subscribing.
Me at a Taipei mixed martial arts gym on June 6, 2024, by Lee Tsung-han, RFA.
Not a big reader? I got you. Listen to an audio version of this chapter here:
Content warning
This issue is sad :(
Previously
After Mark* left, Kai* and I spent the day together, and the following night, and the following day. He played me a song that he used to listen to on repeat in prison. A sweet female voice serenading trees and birds and flowers.
This chapter starts here
Me: So you were having a love affair with that voice.
Kai*: What? No.
Me: It’s okay if you were. I would too. That voice is beauty itself.
He thought about that. Yeah okay, you’re right, he said.
Me: It’s nice that Taiwanese prisons let people listen to their own music.
Me: I heard in China there are "prison internet commentators." It's a widely circulated rumor that hasn’t been confirmed by the media. (Mainstream international media that is. I plan to write about this soon.)
Me: I heard that prisoners in China, in exchange for reduced sentences, are organized by the prison system to post patriotic comments online. This may involve attacking the United States or Japan, or leaving hateful comments on social media accounts of public intellectuals who are found to be insufficiently "patriotic".
In today’s China, "public intellectuals" is a derogatory term. For example, on a website to do with lotteries: "Female public intellectual Xu Xiuzhong (my birth name) was beaten by Australian police, her wig was knocked off revealing a bald head, and she later claimed to find herself very humorous!"
This is an example from the future. As I was speaking with Kai*, I hadn’t been beaten by Australian police yet.
Me: I receive a new wave of threats from time to time. Sometimes hundreds, sometimes dozens of people posting online say they will kill or rape me. I wonder if the comments really came from prisoners.
Me: Would you send me threats and insults if you were imprisoned in China?
Kai*: Yes.
But you can see from everything written about me, and everything I have ever written, that I’m a decent person. I don’t deserve the hate.
Doesn’t matter.
I’m on your side, trying to stop forced labor.
If I have to do it for food, I’m going to curse at you.
Maybe you can pretend to curse at me while secretly encouraging me and sending me love and support?
I don’t think I’ll have time to in prison.
That is really cruel.
Prison is cruel.
*
I played him a song, too. It was in Taiwanese, so I couldn’t fully understand the lyrics, and he could.
One last cigarette, and then we part ways.
I’ll keep running until there’s nowhere left to flee.
What does happiness even taste like?
If you love me you’ll die…
I never had the chance to share the words hidden in my heart, nor the chance to explain.
I am but a heartless, unfeeling, tearless
Fugitive
I’ve seen society’s darkness; gang life is a treacherous road.
The fate of a fugitive is a gamble with life.
If you love me you’ll die…
If you love me you’ll die…
Once I’m used to your scent, I’ll see you off with a smile.
Perhaps someone else will remember our tale.
Late afternoon Kai* left for a job, and I went to the gym. At 1am while soaking in the bathtub I counseled my friend on the phone about her rapist, a former Jiu Jitsu coach. Kai* called five times during. I called him back. He asked if I wanted his company. Sure, I said. Twenty minutes later he showed up downstairs with a bag packed with several outfits, boxing gear, swimming trunks and goggles, a foam roller, and a massage gun. We went looking for food, holding hands. McDonald’s was closed. A small group of five or six teens were cursing at the air by the curb. Kai* said he could handle all of them on his own. I said if we did get into a fight with them, I’d pitch in too. You can take the girl, he said. I curbed the urge to give yet another lecture on feminism.
Kai* stopped in his tracks, cupping my head by the temple with one hand.
He said If you ever find yourself in a truly dangerous situation, go for the eye. That’s the single most effective move I know from all my street fighting experience.
His thumb brushed over my lashes. I blinked.
Like this, he said, just gauge. Forget about martial arts, you won’t have time for it. Just dig as deep as you can into the eye socket.
Okay, I said. Gauge the eye.
The next morning I worked at a cafe again. Chin’s profile on me was out. Most people didn’t read till the end, and posted to welcome me to Taiwan. Kai* came to find me when he woke up. At lunch he went on and on about how he’s a strictly monogamous man.
Are you asking me to stop fucking other people? I asked.
I can’t get into a relationship now, he said.
I’m not asking you for a relationship. I’m just confused why you keep bringing this up, and I thought if you’d be hurt by my entanglement with others, that’s something I want to take into consideration.
I’m almost [age redacted] now. This is my last chance to make something of myself. I can’t distract myself with yet another relationship.
I’m not in the way of you making something of yourself, I might even be able to help you, I thought.
Him: I’m sorry I can’t give you a title (such as girlfriend). You’re a good woman.
Me: Kai*, no. I’m not asking you for a title. I don’t need one, and I can’t have one. It’s been years since the vast majority of my relationships – family, friends, romantic interests – either died or went underground. I haven’t held anybody’s hand in public in years.
My voice began to break. For fuck’s sake, I thought.
Me: To be clear I’m not crying because you wouldn’t grant me some title. I’m crying at the fact that I’m a title-less person. I’m nobody’s daughter, nobody’s best friend, nobody’s wife. It’s a touchy topic. I’m feeling sorry for myself.
Vicky, he pleaded with his eyes. I’m really scared that I’d fall in love with you, he said.
You fucking idiot, I thought, that means you’ve already fallen in love with me. I poked at the salad leaves on my plate.
My love is overbearing, he said. I couldn’t be sure if he was trying to challenge, or dissuade me.
That afternoon I took a phone interview from a Tawanese journalist. The date was June 4th, 2024, the 35th anniversary of 1989 Tiananmen Square Massacre. The journalist wanted to know how I learned of the massacre after leaving China, and whether I was going to the vigil at Chiang Kai-shek Memorial Hall later that night. No, I’ll be packing, and training, I said. The journalist asked if the anniversary elicited any feelings in me. I said only fatigue, after years of reporting on the event and sharing my thoughts about it for the media. That was when Kai* wiped the key card and snuck in, all gingerly again. While he collected his things and zipped up his backpack, I commented on broader censorship issues in China, and the continuous crackdown on Tiananmen mothers, whose children died during the massacre.
Kai* sent me pages of texts that night. A summary: Sorry I’m not ready to go into a relationship that fast, but I’m willing to use my life to protect you. I hope you can feel this. When you’re in Taiwan, let me protect you, okay? If you’re ever in trouble, please let me know. In Taiwan I won’t let anyone have the chance to mistreat you. Please remember me, and that in Taiwan, there’s someone who’s willing to go against the government, and the police to protect you. I’m sorry I can’t make any promises, but I want to protect you. If anything bothers you, call me.
I begged him to stop messaging. I was very behind on packing, I said, and had an interview to record the next day. I didn’t want my eyes to be puffy on camera.
It was winter when I landed in Melbourne two days later. My friend Lewis picked me up at the airport. We saw a metal show in the evening. The girl on stage performed rage, poorly. Lewis fainted, probably out of boredom. I checked his pulse and breathing and he seemed fine. So I sat next to him waiting for him to wake up. A small circle of metal fans fussed around: Oh my god, that guy just suddenly fell down! I heard his head hit the ground, like, bam! How could this even happen? Is he okay? This is just unbelievable. How did he just fall like that? This is so crazy. Why did this happen? I rolled my eyes and thought wow for all the piercings and tattoos they wear, metal people are so very soft. I told them that it’s common for people to temporarily lose consciousness, and Lewis was fine and cared for, and they should mind their own business and stop bitching so loudly about a resting person. They glared at me like I was a talking goat.
Lewis woke up and went home. I took a car to Club Voltaire, a comedy club I performed at two years prior.
Stay tuned for more next week.
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Posts here are non-fiction and adhere to journalistic standards. A note on formatting: pseudonyms are marked with an asterisk* at each instance, quotes recalled are not placed inside quotation marks, and sensitive information will be redacted to ensure the safety of myself and others.
我最近很喜歡聽一首我其實聽不懂的臺語歌,還把它放給我喜歡的男生聽。這首歌的名字叫做「愛我你會死」。
這禮拜的主題包括:監獄網評員,街頭打架時最好用的招式,天安門廣場屠殺35週年紀念日,和我在墨爾本看到的死亡金屬表演。
這篇非虛構寫作是我奇怪人生連載的章節之一。如果還沒讀過之前的章節,可以到我的Substack主頁查閱。如果想要第一時間收到更新,請考慮訂閱。
封面照片:2024年6月6日,我在台北某綜合格鬥道館,攝影:李宗翰,RFA。
不喜歡閱讀?沒關係。你也可以在這裡聽這篇文章的有聲版:
內容警示
這章有點難過:(
前情提要
馬克*離開後,我和凱*一起度過了一天,以及接下來的那個晚上,以及再接下來那一天。
凱*和我分享他在監獄裡反覆聽的歌曲,由一個甜甜的女聲演唱,歌詞裡充滿了樹木、鳥兒和花朵這些美好的意象。(點擊這裡閱讀上一期)
這一章從這裡開始
我:所以在監獄的時候,你是和那個女生的聲音談戀愛喔。
他:什麼?不要亂講。
我:如果有的話也沒關係啊。我要是你的話我也會。那聲音可以稱得上是美麗的化身。
他想了想,說:好吧,可能真的有。
我:在臺灣監獄還能聽自己選擇的音樂,真好。
我:中國有「監獄網評員」的說法,雖然被廣為流傳,但主流媒體尚未證實。據說,為了爭取減刑,犯人們會接受監獄組織的指派,在網路上發布愛國主義言論。這可能包括攻擊美國或日本,或者在一些被認為不夠「愛國」的公共知識分子社交媒體帳號下留言謾罵。
「公知」在中國是個髒字。例如,中國某彩票網站上的句子: 「女公知許秀中被澳洲警察打了,假髮被打掉,露出了光頭,事後表示自己很幽默!」
這是一個來自未來的例子。在我和凱*講話的當下,我被澳洲警察打這件事情還沒有發生。
我:我時不時會收到一波威脅,網路上一大群人說要殺掉我或強姦我。有時候我會想,這些人真的是監獄裡的囚犯嗎?
我問凱*:如果你是在中國被關,你會在網路上罵我嗎?
凱*:會啊。
我:但是你看得到啊,不管是我接受過的採訪,還是我自己寫的文字,都能說明我是個好人。憑什麼罵我?!
他:跟妳是不是好人又沒關係。
我:當然有關!我是站在你這邊的。我花那麼多力氣揭露強迫勞動的事情。
他:如果不罵人不給吃飯的話,那我一定會罵。
我:或許你可以假裝罵我,但其實偷偷支持我、傳鼓勵和關愛的訊息給我?
凱*:在監獄裡沒時間做這種事吧。
我:太殘酷了吧。
凱*:監獄就是殘酷啊。
我也和他分享了一首歌。臺語歌,所以我其實聽不懂歌詞,但凱**可以。
以下是從臺語翻譯到國語的版本:
最後一支煙,我就要離開了
我會一直逃,直到無處可逃
幸福是什麼滋味
愛我你會死
藏在我心底暗處的那句話
沒機會對你坦白,向你解釋
我就是一個無情無義,無血無淚
亡命的人
社會黑暗,兄弟無情,路不好走
逃亡者的命運,本來就是賭命
愛我你會死
愛我你會死
習慣了這個氣味,就要微笑著讓它離去
也許後來的人會記得我們的故事吧
傍晚的時候凱*出門去工作,我騎腳踏車去道館練到很晚。凌晨1點,我坐在浴缸裡,一邊泡澡一邊在電話上開導一位朋友。她曾被一名柔術教練性侵,我想在我離開臺北之前多幫她解開一些心結。我們通話期間,凱*打來五次。我撥回去問他有什麼事。
要我去陪妳嗎?他問。
好啊,我說。
二十分鐘後,他和一個大背包一起出現在樓下。包裡裝著幾套衣服、拳擊用具、游泳褲、護目鏡、按摩滾筒,按摩槍等等。
我們手牽手出去找東西吃。
麥當勞關門了。
五、六個高中生模樣的小孩在路邊不知道叫囂些什麼。凱*說如果和這些人發生衝突,他一個人就可以搞定這一群。
我:如果真的打起來,我也可以幫忙啊。
他:你可以解決那個女的。
我再次壓抑住向他灌輸女性/女權主義的衝動。
凱*停下腳步,用手掌托著我的太陽穴。
他:如果真的遇到危險狀況,記得要挖眼睛。在我所有的打架經驗中,這一招最有效。
他的拇指輕輕擦過我的睫毛,我忍不住眨一下眼睛。
他:就像這樣,狠狠挖進去。不要做我們平時學的那些東西,你沒有時間做。就挖眼睛。
我:好,挖眼睛。
第二天一早我又帶電腦去咖啡廳工作。虹瑾為《鏡傳媒》寫的專訪幾小時前發佈了。大部分讀者都沒看到結尾,留言歡迎我來臺灣。
凱*醒來後來咖啡廳找我。
午餐時,他幾次提到自己是一個絕對的「單一性伴侶」者。
我問:你是要我停止跟其他人發生關係嗎?
他愣住,然後回答:我還沒準備好進入下一段relationship (戀愛關係)。
我:我沒有要你和我談戀愛啊。我只是搞不懂你為什麼總是提這件事。所以我才想了解,如果我和其他人發生什麼糾葛,你是不是會覺得受傷。如果會的話,那我是不是應該照顧你的情緒、去調整未來一些相關的選擇。
他:我現在快[年齡隱去]歲了。我如果再不為自己拚一次,就沒機會了。我不能再為感情分心。
我心裡想:我又不會阻礙你的事業發展,搞不好還能幫到你。
凱*:對不起,不能給你一個名份。你是個好女孩。
我:凱*,你這樣講話不對。我沒有跟你要名份。我不需要一個名份,我也知道自己得不到名份。過去這幾年我所有的親情、友情,或者戀情——就算沒被毀掉也被迫變成地下狀態。我已經好幾年沒有在公共場合牽過任何人的手了。
我聲音開始顫抖,腦中浮現出成段的髒話罵自己怎麼這麼不爭氣,在這個當下哭起來。
我:我哭不是因為你不願意給我名份。我哭是因為我不是任何人的女兒,不是任何人的摯友,也不是任何人的妻子。我是一個沒有名份的人,這很讓人難過。
Vicky,他一邊叫我的名字,一邊用眼神懇求我。
我真的很怕我會愛上你,他說。
我一邊用叉子戳盤子裡的沙拉葉,一邊在心裡罵他:你這個大傻逼,會怕就代表你已經愛上我了啊。
我的愛很霸道,他說。
我沒辦法確定這算是挑戰,還是勸阻。
回到飯店房間後,我接受了一位台灣記者的電話訪問。那天恰好是2024年6月4日,1989年天安門事件的三十五週年紀念日。記者想知道我在離開中國後如何得知這件事,以及我晚上會不會去中正紀念堂參加燭光集會。我說不會,我要打包行李和訓練。記者問這個周年紀念是否引發了我的任何感觸。我說只是感到疲憊,因為多年來一直報導這件事並向媒體分享我的想法。我講這句話的時候,凱*剛好刷門卡進來,步伐像他之前牽著小女孩下樓梯一樣輕、一樣小心。我一邊用眼睛的餘光看著他把衣服、拳擊手套和按摩滾輪一樣一樣放回包裡,一邊繼續和記者解釋中國的言論審查問題。凱*把背包拉鍊拉好,關好房門離開時,我正好談起中國政府對「天安門母親」的持續打壓。這些母親的孩子三十五年前在天安門事件中喪生。
那天晚上凱*傳了一長串訊息給我,大意是:對不起,我還沒準備好那麼快進入一段關係,但我願意用我的生命來保護你。我希望你能感受到這一點。當你在台灣的時候,讓我來保護你,好嗎?如果你有任何困難,請告訴我。在台灣,我不會讓任何人有機會對你不好。請記得我,在台灣有一個願意為了保護你和警政對抗的人。我很抱歉不能給你任何承諾,但我真的想保護你。如果有任何困擾你的事情,請打電話給我。
我請他不要再傳訊息給我了,因為行李已經快要收不完,隔天早上還要為一個採訪拍攝。我不想腫著泡泡眼上鏡。
兩天之後,我飛回冬天的墨爾本。老朋友Lewis來機場接我,晚上我們去看死亡金屬演唱會。主唱的女生似乎想表達憤怒,但那憤怒有形無實,連形都造得牽強。演出進行到一半,也許是實在太無聊了,Lewis突然倒了下去,昏在地上。我檢查了他的脈搏和呼吸,兩項都很平穩。我坐在Lewis身邊等他醒來,一小群金屬樂迷把我們團團圍住。
他們大聲評論:天啊,那個人突然就昏倒了!我聽到他的頭撞到地上,「砰」的一聲!怎麼會這樣?!他還好嗎?真是難以置信。他怎麼就這樣倒了?太可怕了。怎麼會發生這種事?
我翻了翻白眼,心想這些金屬樂迷身上滿是刺青和穿孔,裝得一副很酷的樣子,其實根本沒見過世面。我告訴他們,暫時失去意識的情況很常見,我朋友沒事,我也在照顧他。希望他們能關心自己的事,不要公開吵鬧、談論一個需要休息的人。他們瞪大了眼睛看著我,彷彿我是一隻會說話的山羊。
Lewis醒來以後就回家了。我搭車去了伏爾泰俱樂部(Club Voltaire)。兩年前,我在那裡表演過一次單口喜劇。
未完待續,下週見。
如欲第一時間獲取每週更新,請點擊下方按鈕成為訂閱者。
Vicky, this is the second chapter for me. Marvelously entertaining with a nice flow. Now I'm really looking forward to more, more. I think that you're my favorite character in these tales. Easy to see why Kai may be falling (or have already fallen) in love with you. I could develop a crush myself, but I'm smart enough to realize that if I love you I'll die...... Take care for now.
The audio version is wonderful! Don't stop!