貧窮。暴力。有毒的男性主義。喝大了在路上露體直到把臉摔破把半個身體摔盲為止的叔叔。為了不想坐牢更努力犯罪的表哥。供出小屋裡性愛遊戲的表哥。努力變成不是自己的人。被揍和吐口水不止的幾年，都能認出施暴者的悲傷和早餐了。勉強自己忍住噁心去親吻女性。Laura。Sabrina。還是不行。窮是所有暴力的源頭。窮到離火車站都很遠。窮到沒有想像力只剩恐懼。窮到要將恐懼化為暴力對身邊所有能施暴的物品、原則、人施暴。窮到沒有選擇。只有早婚、生育、工廠、酒、壞掉的身體。
喚回不怎麼想起的青春記憶，青春真不是什麼好事情。身邊都是莫名其妙的人，就連你只是那個年紀都知道他們莫名其妙。想起你可悲的父親。因為太多事情掌握不了於是要糟蹋你與母親。還要玩那些無聊的遊戲。在外面連話也說不好。你覺得很累。很早就看破他的手腳。你不恨他，也不到那個地步，但他的眼界和小氣會讓你非常憤怒。
然而總是要折磨他為樂的父親送他到了車站，一口氣給了他20塊。要他一口氣用完。如果被搶就要命不要錢。然而他到了學校發覺所有人都和他一樣講話。他們不會握手會碰臉蛋。他突然無比正常。他突然發現或許他不是變態，他只是生來就有中產階級的姿態。到了大學更是這樣。
他學會吃學會穿。他終於不用裝作一個不是自己的人。
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kind of sexual behaviour she didn't approve of. She was often angry. She'd take any occasion to voice her indignation, railing, day in , day out, against the politicians, against the new regulations reducing benefits, against the powers that be, which she hated from the deepest fibres of her being. And yet she would not hesitate to invoke those same powers she otherwise so hated when she felt ruthlessness was called for: ruthlessness in dealing with Arabs, with alcohol, with drugs, with any kind of sexual behaviour she didn't approve of. She would often remark that What we need is some law and order in this country.
Years later, while reading the biography of Marie-Antoinette by Stefan Zweig, I will remember the people who lived in the village where I grew up, my mother in particular, when Zweig speaks of all the furious women, worn out by hunger and poverty, who, in 1789, descended upon Versailles to protest and who, at the sight of the monarch, spontaneously cried out Long Live the King!: their bodies - which had spoken for them - torn between absolute submission to power and an enduring sense of revolt.
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To keep us from seeing it as shameful, my mother would turn it into a game. We knew it was because we were poor and had no money; children understand that faster than people think. My mother would say Let's go collect some firewood, we could use a walk and it'll be fun.
We pretended to believe her and she pretended to believe that we believed her.
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Sabrina's wish to study medicine provoked reactions of both amusement and scorn.
Listen to the stories that bimbo Sabrina tells about herself, thinking she's all special and better than the rest of us. Over time she gradually lowered her sights, just as my sister had done, from wanting to be a surgeon, to a general practitioner, then a nurse, then a nurse's aide, and then finally and in-home helper (making sure people took their medicine and wiping old people's arse, my mother's job).
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