3. Do you think any of this is real? / 你以為這一切都是真的嗎?
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Post-sex conversations are almost always interesting. In this instance, I spoke with two individuals from Taipei’s underworld about topics such as god, starting over, and mental resilience.
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.
Cover photo: Me at a Taipei cafe, May 2024. By Chou Pao-hsiang, Mirror Media.
Content warning: This work contains explicit language and references to substance use.
Not a big reader? I got you. Listen to an audio version of this chapter here:
I have to go and get my daughter soon, Mark* said.
I have to work, and pack, I said.
Kai*: I have to [do gang things, something to do with selling a car]. So annoying.
Someone must have mentioned a wish to start over. But we start over every day, I said. The boys looked stunned, clearly impressed by my wisdom.
Mark* got up to shower. I brought a clean towel into the bathroom, and lingered under the pretense of cleaning. I complained that I felt cold.
Go cuddle with Kai* for warmth, Mark* said.
You’re about to leave. I want to spend a little more time with you, I said.
As Mark* dressed, we found ourselves discussing religion. Kai* follows in Taoist deities. Mark* is a Christian. I said that I wish I wasn’t an atheist. There have been so many occasions where I had my back against the wall, when I had nothing and no one to count on, and I wished there was a church I could go to, or a god who’d listen to my prayers. Sadly I could never be convinced to believe.
Mark*: I don’t know how to explain it to you. But there is definitely something out there. It might not be God, but it’s there. I’ve felt it. It exists.
Me: How did you feel it? Why can’t I feel anything? Even if that something is out there, are you sure it wants to have anything to do with us?
Mark* paced in a circle in the middle of my room, around where my pole used to be, agitated.
Mark*: Do you think – do you think any of this is real? He spoke in English. A sharpness in his voice.
Me: What, you speak English?
Mark*: My English is better than my Chinese.
Me: How?
Mark*: I went to a posh international school.
Me: You don’t have the bratty personality.
Mark*: By choice.
Me: My English is better than my Chinese too.
Mark*: I gathered – in the first five minutes I met you.
Me: So, what, you think this is all just a simulation? I've heard of this one before. That was years ago now, I was hanging out with a source at a casino. I was trying to get him to leak dirt about his boss who was suspected to be a CCP proxy. We were chatting in front of the slot machines, which didn’t exactly look that “real”. He stared at the golden bells and lucky sevens on the screens, and told me that he believes everything we're experiencing, every moment and interaction, isn’t real but rather a complex, artificial construct designed to mimic reality. Our entire world, our lives, and everything we perceive is nothing more than a sophisticated virtual environment, with no true existence beyond the simulation itself.
Me: Most likely he was stalling because he didn’t want to give me anything useful to write about, or maybe he watched too much Matrix. He didn’t convince me, of course, but he did make me pause. I don’t know why. When he was talking about this he sounded very, very sincere. I’ve been to all kinds of churches, prayed along, and spoken to priests and monks and rabbis. None of the religious speak left as deep an impression.
Mark*: No. I’m not talking about simulation. I’m talking about illusions. I’m saying that none of the things – this chair, this table, this room, or us – none of it is real.
Me: Then what’s real?
Mark*: That’s my point! Nothing! Nothing is real.
Me: Dude you’re high.
Mark*: Of course I’m high. I wouldn’t be here, I wouldn’t be participating in this if I’m not. We’re all high.
Me: I’m not high.
They laughed.
Me: Seriously. I’m not high. I would be making the same decisions if I didn’t have a drop of alcohol or take any psychedelics. At no point tonight did I have hallucinations. My thought patterns are consistent with how they usually are. My senses are heightened – I’ll give you that. Sex felt great. Cold feels colder and hot feels hotter, but that doesn't count as being high.
Mark*: Do you know how much acid you took Vicky?
Me: What, I had acid?
Kai*: You’ve never taken acid before?
Me: I thought we took LSD. I’ve had that before, with a therapist.
Mark*: LSD is acid.
Me: Oh, I didn’t know that.
Kai*: How much did you take?
Me: Five tabs.
Mark*: You’re high.
Me: I am genuinely not. I am of sound mind and have been all night.
Kai*: We are all high.
Me: Not me.
Mark*: Impossible.
Me: I have a theory, and you’re not going to like it. Things like drugs, or imprisonment, or severe trauma – they are external forces that attack our psyche. Being high, or becoming “insane”, means the psyche has been impaired. Conversely if the mind is strong and resilient, then it stays intact. For years the Chinese government has been trying to attack my mind, by putting pressure on my family and friends, by hitting me with propaganda campaigns – the dubious people who stood in front of my apartment gate were probably sent by the Chinese government too. Granted, they have sent me spiral before, but over time I have strengthened my mind to the point that now I have a Great fucking Wall guarding my sanity. I have built fortresses. What can five tabs of LSD affect if a government can’t do shit to my precious brain?
The boys called my theory bullshit. Shortly after, Mark* put on his shoes, and got ready to leave. I lent him 200 bucks for a taxi.
Me: Will I ever see you again?
Mark*: You’re leaving Taipei in six days right? I’d say unlikely.
Me: And you’re just going to leave like that? Without saying a proper goodbye?
Mark* scratched his head and walked over. As we leaned in to hug, a wave of sorrow washed over me. Take care of yourself, Mark*, I said, then began sobbing again. My sadness was infectious. He peered at me, brow furrowed, on the verge of tears too. I’m so sorry, I said, you don’t have to stay here and console me. You should go. I’m just having an emotional day.
I know what it’s like to be betrayed by your country, Kai* said, after Mark* left.
Kai*: I was caught at the [location redated] airport with…
That’s it for this issue. As this blog is new, I am still experimenting with things like translated versions, and how much content I release each week. My experiment for this week is that I’ll release two chapters, with the longer one being behind the paywall. The title of the next chapter is “I’ll Watch Your Back”. If you’d like to read or listen to it, I’d be flattered, and I’d be so happy to have you onboard as a paid subscriber.
If not, no pressure, I’ll give you a brief summary of that chapter next week. See you then!
Here’s a link to the next chapter (behind paywall).
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.
生活這麼艱難,是不是可以重新開始?這世界有神嗎?被鐵拳砸過的後遺症之一是精神藥物免疫——這可能嗎?三人行(3p這個詞怎麼就是有一種不雅的感覺)之後要怎麼說再見?
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5月,我在台北某咖啡廳,攝影:鄒保祥,鏡傳媒。
內容警示:本作品包含露骨語言,也提及了藥物濫用。
不喜歡閱讀?沒關係。你也可以在這裡聽這篇文章的有聲版:
我得去接我女兒了,馬克*說。
我:我有東西要寫,還要收拾行李。
凱*:我也要[做一些跟幫派有關的事情]。好討厭。
我不記得是凱*還是馬克*說想要從頭開始。我答說,但我們每天都從頭開始啊。兩位男生一臉震驚,好像很佩服我的智慧。
馬克*起身去洗澡。我拿浴巾給他,藉機留在浴室跟他聊天。我抱怨說好冷。
你去跟凱*取暖啊,馬克*說。
但你快走了,我想跟你多相處一下,我說。
馬克*穿衣服的時候我們聊起了宗教。凱*信道教,馬克*信耶穌。我說如果我不是無神論者就好了。我人生中很多次覺得無路可走、無人能倚靠。那些時刻我會羨慕那些有教堂可去,有神靈可以膜拜禱告的人。可惜沒有一個教堂或神教我信服。
馬克*:我不知道要怎麼和你解釋。在我們之外一定有這樣的存在。它可能不是上帝,但它絕對存在。我感受到到過它的存在。
我:你怎麼感受到的?為什麼我什麼也感受不到?就算那個東西真的存在,你確定它想跟我們人類扯上任何關係嗎?
馬克*在房間中間焦慮地徘徊,正好圍繞著我以前鋪設鋼管的那個位置。
馬克*突然開始講英文,語調尖銳:你以為——你以為這一切都是真的嗎?
我:你講英文啊?
馬克*:我英文比中文好。
我:怎麼會?
馬克*:我之前上過[某國際學校]。
我:但你的性格一點不像那些跋扈的富家子弟。
馬克*:就是不想和他們一樣啊。
我:我的英文也比中文好。
馬克*:我認識妳不到五分鐘就猜到了。
我:所以,怎樣,你覺得這一切都是假的,我們生活在一個虛擬世界裡嗎?上次有人這樣跟我講是好幾年前,我和一位線人在賭場聊天。我那天跟他見面,是想聽他透露關於他老闆的內幕。當時我們報社、或者說整個澳洲媒體界都認為他老闆是中共的代理人。我們坐在花花綠綠、閃來閃去,亦真亦幻的角子機前聊天。他盯著螢幕上的金鈴鐺和幸運七說,他認為我們所經歷、能感知到的一切,都不是真的。我們都被困在一個被製造出來的虛擬世界。這個虛擬世界長得很像是真正的現實,但它不是現實。我們都不是真的存在,因為這個虛擬世界就不是真實的存在。
我:他大概只是拖延時間,不想給我任何有用的資訊,又或者他「駭客任務」(中國譯作「黑客帝國」)看太多遍。我當然不信他的理論,但聽他講的當下,有那麼一瞬間,我確實有些動搖。我也不知道為什麼,角子機前的線人聽起來非常、非常真誠。我去過各種教堂,跟著各派信徒一起念過經,和神父、僧侶、拉比們也交流過。沒有任何宗教言論讓我印象如此深刻。
馬克*:我沒有在跟妳探討虛擬世界。我在講的是⋯⋯幻象。我講的是這些妳以為妳能看到的東西——桌子,椅子,這個房間,或者我和凱*——這一切都不是真的。
我:那什麼是真的?
馬克*:對!好問題!沒有任何東西是真的。
我:大哥你抽東西抽high了吧。
馬克*:我當然high啊,我要是不high我都不可能在這裡。我要是不high我怎麼會參與⋯⋯我們都high啊。
我:我沒high啊。
他們兩個笑了。
我:真的,我沒high。即使我沒有喝酒或吃任何藥,我也會做我今晚做過的所有決定。整晚我沒有經歷任何幻覺,我的思考方式與平時完全一致。我的感官變得更敏銳,這點我承認。性的感覺很棒,冷感覺更冷,熱感覺更熱,但這不算high啊。
馬克*:Vicky你知道你吃了多少acid嗎?
我:什麼?我吃了acid嗎?
凱*:你以前沒吃過acid嗎?
我:我以為我們吃的是LSD,我之前在心理治療師那裏吃過。
馬克*:LSD就是acid。
我:喔,原來如此。
凱*:你吃了多少?
我:五片。
馬克*:你肯定是high的啊。
我:我真的不是。我頭腦清醒,我一整晚都頭腦清醒。
凱*:我們都是high的。
我:我不是。
馬克*:不可能。
我:我有一個理論,你們不會喜歡聽,但我還是要講。我認為藥物、囚禁或嚴重創傷——這些東西都是攻擊我們心理的外部力量。變得high,或者「瘋掉」,意味著心理受到了影響或損害。反之,如果心智堅強且有韌性,那它就會保持穩定,不受影響。這些年來,中國政府一直試圖攻擊我的心智:對我的家人和朋友施壓,在媒體和網路上往我身上潑髒水,那些在我家門口站崗的奇怪的人多半也是中共派來的。這些攻擊一度讓我思緒失序,但隨著時間的推移,我已經把自己的心智強化到一個程度。我在我的內心世界修了一整座鋼鐵長城,一點一點地蓋起了守護我理智的堡壘。如果一個政府都對我的寶貴大腦無能為力,五片LSD又能有什麼影響呢?
兩位男生異口同聲地說我的理論是狗屁。不久之後,馬克*把鞋子穿起來準備離開。我借給他200元叫計程車。
我:還會再見到你嗎?
馬克*:你不是還有六天就要離開臺北?那,應該不會吧。
我:那你真的準備就這樣離開,連道別都不好好做?
馬克*撓了撓頭,朝我和凱*走過來。我抬起手臂要擁抱他,突然覺得好難過。照顧好自己,馬克*,我一邊說一邊哭了起來。他被我的難過傳染,眉毛緊皺,眼睛緊盯著我,也快要哭出來。我和他道歉:對不起,你不用待在這裡哄我。你有事就快走吧。我今天超級多愁善感,一定是因為快離開了。
馬克*走了以後,凱*和我繼續聊天。我知道被自己的國家背叛是什麼感覺,凱*說。
凱*:我之前在[地點隱去]被抓⋯⋯
這一章就到這裡。因為博客剛開,所以在內容發布的方面我還在做新的嘗試。這禮拜的嘗試就是我會放出兩章,其中較長的一章放在付費牆後面。下一章的題目叫做「我可以確保妳的安全」。
如果暫時沒辦法訂閱,那也沒關係,我會在下禮拜的章節中包括對付費內容的快速小結。下期見!
閱讀下一章的連結在這裡。