Xiao Brin Brin

Name is such a unique thing. We dun get to choose it, yet we hate it when someone forgets it. we have no say in choosing it, yet we live with it as if it is part of our own self-identity. We know that it is just a string of few words with no real dictionary meaning, yet we took effort to protect and sanctify it from smears and criticisms.

For me I have so many countless permutations in my name.... Febrin, Furby, Fairy Mcfurry, Xiao brin brin, Brinz, Frinz, Feb, FebZ, feebin, feibulinghuo, frinz, febreeze, flabby, uncle feb, walking joke, uncle joke, febrin the fabulous, febrin the joke. Every single permutations are shared memories. None of it was ever my creation, but rather a creation of many shared experiences and memories with so many different people that crosses my path. It is a single free gift that price cannot dictate. it is a small gesture, yet it compasses and epitomizes everything that the person imagined me to be. Sometimes just thinking about my nicknames remind me all of memories and experience that I shared with my friends and family in my path. So my question is if it is my name unique or are my memories elusive or is it simply an issue of diffidence?