So I got into an intellectual conversation with my uncle from Bangladesh and to be honest it was quite stimulating. I feel bad for swearing at him and calling him a pervert because he prays and he is genuinely a nice person, well seems so anyway. The problem with me is that I can forever keep a grudge against people, I have a good memory but only of the bad memories. I still remember the time I was around 7 and my cousin got a new bike, I was really excited as it had a passenger seat which I assumed I would occupy, for the first ride anyway. What happened was my cousin got talked into letting our second cousin and his sister on the bike and I was left standing alone in the sitting room while they wheezed around. At this moment that incident seems entirely insignificant but as a child I experienced betrayal, hurt and most indubitably anger. And I still remember that incident and all the incidents that transpired during my life. They have made me who I am, arguably sensitive and easily offended, but still a part of me. One time when we went to visit back home, my uncle told us that his computer wasn’t working. We asked him what was wrong but all he said was it just didn’t work. The suspicious know it all children that we were; we or more specifically I got all detective-like and put some plugs into place. I was about 14 or 15 but it really irritated me that my uncle perceived us as ignorant and naive idiots who were gullible enough to fall for his lies; the computer was perfectly well and operating with ease and he had merely unplugged the machine to stop us from using it. So I guess my obsessive mannerisms could be blamed on that but I read between the lines of everything and anything .. anyway I just wanted to explain my somewhat distorted interpretations. I believe initially I wanted to refer this post back to the fore mentioned uncle but I guess its too late now, I've long since lost that trail of thought.
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