I Don’t Know That I Don’t Know
I know my father was lying that he didn’t have money to bought me a new bike when I was a boy. I know my mother didn’t know that I drank and smoked when I was a teenager. I know my sister ate my apple that I put in the refrigerator while I was not at home. I knew my ex-girl was my soul mate, but I was wrong. I don’t have any evidence, witnesses, or anything else that can prove them all. I just act as if I have a sixth sense. I just follow the demon that whisper in my ear.
“He is lying!”
“Just do it! No one knows. No one cares.”
“She is the scapegoat!”
“She is your soul mate. Give her your life and your everything!”
I know actually don’t know
A while back, I had a microteaching class at 3.00 pm, but my nine friends and I had been in the classroom since 2.15 pm to prepare our teaching materials in our last minutes before we really teach in front of the teacher. We still got nervous speaking in front of the class, even whom we taught were our classmates. They asked each other what to ask later, they were too afraid of unexpected questions, they were too anxious to be ignored. To me, it was just a microteaching, training; the real task is when I teach in the high school, later. Before the microteaching class began, I usually dare my friends to be bad students.
A friend asked me, I would call her Julia, about an equation that she would explain, but I had no idea. Then she chose the shortcut and asked me not to ask it later.
“Don’t ask this, Ok? Or we will never talk again.” She threatened me.
“Hum. Sorry. I want to know.” I joked to her. “Just prepare the answer.”
She hit and pinched me; it was really pain, but I just acted as a cool man — I am not a boy, and I didn’t cry.
“Look, you left the scars on my arm,” I showed her my arm, “This is fifteen centimeters from my heart, you almost killed me.”
In every microteaching, I always take the first turn because the teacher usually gives more feedbacks, and I love them. However, some students, including her, were too afraid and too bashful to get feedbacks that would shape them. After I got my turn, I feel quiet — all the burden had been lost — then I just need to sit quietly as a student of my friends.
After I got to my boarding house, I visited my e-house, Facebook, to see how many likes my latest update got: No one. Instead of likes, I got a long, surprising message from her.
“If you want to revenge, it’s not fair. My laptop should not be targeted. …”
“What happens to your laptop?”
“I know you have scratched it.”
However, the truth was she didn’t know that I didn’t do it. She just associated her guilt with her problem. She also blamed a friend, who sat beside her and previously told her that I was the culprit but then said that he didn’t know and just guessed me. A friend told me that she had an accident on the highway previously but not sure whether her laptop was in her bag or not — and may scratched it. Since then, she didn’t talk to me for a week because of her I-don’t-know-that-I-don’t-know.
I know you won’t hit the Recommend button. Prove me wrong!
