I can't say I've ever felt myself victimized by these microaggression thingies in Taiwan. But I have been most egregiously victimized, unbearably taunted and emotionally scarred by the prevalence of microskirts and microshorts flaunted in my vision whenever I go out and about.
For heaven's sake, they're absolutely every-bloody-where, especially now that the weather's smouldering up. Slender, shapely, silky-smooth legs, naked from ankle to upper thigh, exposed to within mere millimeters of pert posteriors, brazenly showcasing their heavenly junction at the cloven mound of amour. They suck at my attention, work me up into a frenzy of lust, and tease me with their irresistible allure.
But I, as a man enchained in marriage, am precluded from attaining enjoyment of them except with my eyes. All I can do is leer, salivate, pant, fantasize, and empty my excitement into a tissue.
Why do they need to torture me so cruelly? What have they got against me? Is it because I’m a man? Are they deliberately flinging my maleness into my face as a way to assert their feminine identity, their pride in belonging to a sisterhood on the better side of an untraversable divide?
Why, oh wailingly and plaintively why, must I have to suffer as a victim of this inhumane discrimination, this soul-asphyxiating display of their themness pitted so rawly and aggressively against my otherness?
If I prioritized the acquisition of wealth above other purposes in life, I might still have come to Taiwan to study Chinese, but I doubt I would have remained here.