I want a child. But I don’t want to get married.

I don’t want to get married. But I want a child.

I am 27 and I should have been married. Unfortunately I don’t like women or girl. May be I am a little narcissistic. But I like kids more and more these years. How could I get a child of my own if I don’t want to hurt any woman?

  I want a child. He could be nine or ten years old. Standing aside me, it will be mistaken as my little brother. He is too young but never too young to live with me as my best companion. He is a naughty demon, and always makes my study cluttered and drives me crazy. He is a cute angel like Cupid, and always amuses me with varieties of tricks and funny appearance. Sometimes I am so annoyed that I pull this rascal and scold him severely and even slap his bottom, and then leave him weeping sadly to break my heart. More often I hold him high and whirl excitedly untile I am nearly staggering. He laughs in my hand and kisses me suddenly from his pure inner enthusiasm. I get drunk in such a sweet and honey award.

  I want a child. I won’t let him into school. I’d like to teach him myself. In the early morning, we go jogging along the Green Plaza. After breakfast, I will teach him literature adapted to influence his little simple mind. He has a super memory which occasionally make me feel short of knowledge. To conceal my embarrassment and reward his good working, I begin to teach him music from the vocality. He inherits a fantastic voice from his fabulous father, whose Edan a young genious is growing in. Anyway, I will never make him take incredibel efforts to enter the university. But that won’t appear, because ——

  I want a child. I don’t expect to grow up. He’ll stay in his teenage, with me, ever. I will take him out for a week of month trip to broaden his mind. However, I won’t choose the famous  but distorted sites. Anonymous but scenic hills or lakes will always attract us. He could sing and dance all over these nameless places to release his eager but need not to worry about being restrained by rules uttered by police or glower speared from civilized persons. We’ll explore a high mountain without the shade of modernizing paw, where I will perform an opera with him. We’ll visit the distant poor village and play with the simple kids there. My child is unpolluted so he should play in the unpolluted world.

  I want a child. I won’t turn to the modern technology for help. And what I want can only be achieved in my dream and in my sincere love shed into other simple children in the world. Can’t that be as well cheerful?