One Fine Day 4

-How could she embarrass me in front of so many of my friends?

-Maybe she's not meant to be a concert pianist.

-She's meant to go to Harvard and she's meant to be a concert pianist.

-You can't just shape your daughter into a form that you've designated for her.

-It's not a matter of her free choice. If she had her free choice, she'd probably live like we used to live.

-What's wrong with that?

-It's never going to get into your head. There's no use talking to you.

-I care about her too.

-It's no use. We need to put more money into her.

How had my wife changed so much during the years. Was she right in thinking that her daughter had to be top of the class and best in everything? Could we really shape her into a form that we wanted her to be? At the end of it, she had concluded that her daughter needed more money put into her. I felt like the bank and I wondered what I was doing here, in front of her. I went to a bar and started to drink again. Reality weighed heavily on me. What was wrong with living for the moment and enjoying life? What problems did these elite people on top solve? I was so sick of listening to one of my wife's academic friend preach to me about social responsibility. More and more, I found myself drinking again and not caring about the life I was leading with my family. 

More and more and more. Life was beginning to look blurry again and I hadn't laughed in what seemed like ages. People named me the Silent Buddha, and took me to be a very serious person when, in reality, I could hardly make out wht they were saying.