Life is sure full of ironies, isn’t it? For while it seems one doesn’t have to speak Mandarin very well (or not at all) in order to live in T'áiwān 台灣 (yours truly being a case in point), it’s looking like I’ll have to be proficient in the language if I’m ever going to get off this island. Unfortunately, the way things are going, the Exit door is closing fast, and I’m still too far away to reach it before it shuts. I thought I’d paid the price (several times over by now) for the mistake I made so many years ago, but I guess the gods feel that I still haven’t atoned for past sins. Either that or it’s been determined that my purpose in life is to be an endless source of entertainment for immature, retarded natives. Jizō-sama 地蔵菩薩, take me and my family away from here, please! What do more do I need to do?
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