and there you stood

Once upon a time I was lonely
I lock myself inside and sat in darkness
Nobody knew I was there
because I was just a shadow

There was knockings on the door
thought that was just the wind
Nobody knew I was there
that must have been the wind

but the wind kept knocking
it kept knocking
it kept knocking
and it kept knocking

I finally got up and opened the door

and there you stood.

when death comes, you die

I often had dreams where I was alone in an empty room, and I heard someone or myself talking. Sometimes they are songs  that I've never heard before. Sometimes they're more like poems. I usually woke up with last pieces of songs or words still hang around my head.

Yesterday I had this kind of dream while I slept in the bus from Kamikitadai to home. In the dream, I was talking outloud, but instead of sounds, the words that came out of my mouth turned into black letters painted on a white wall. It goes something like this:

"tick tock tick tock

die die you will die

you cannot choose when or why

if you die in your sleep, you might consider yourself lucky
if you die instantly, that might even be better
and if you die in pain, that is just bad luck

because when death comes, you die."

The transformation of a certain lump of black stone

It's Valentine's Day today, so you decided to go all cheesy and wrote about love. But what do you know about love anyway? You spent all your life feeling like a lump of black stone, that's if a lump of black stone had any feeling at all. Most of the time, you didn't feel anything. Other times, you found yourself being kicked around.

But when being asked about love, you had these images happening all over again before your eyes.

A tiny baby wrapped in green cloth. His eyes closed and his face was all red. You wanted to count the tiny white spots across his nose and you thought that he must have been the most beautiful thing you've ever seen in your whole life. Something new flickered in your heart, a new kind of thing you had never known before. Then suddenly it bursted open, and you could almost literally feel it flowing inside you. You were drowning happily in pink clouds sweeter than any cotton candy in the world. Something was flowing out of you, and flowing into you at the same time.

You suddenly realized that was how love should have felt like.

A smile on a certain face. You were looking up at the face and waiting for it to come down to you. Al it need was only 3 seconds to reach you, but it felt so long yet so soon. You remember every details. The cheeks were a bit pinkish, and you thought that was oh so cute. The corners of his eyes moved as he was smiling, as if his eyes were smiling too. No, not only his eyes, but his face, his body, his whole being were smiling to you. Only to you.

Everything around you receded to a distance as if they were making space for the two of you. You waited happily on the feet of the stairs in what felt like forever. If you'd had a tail, you'd be wagging it excitedly. The feeling was so strangely familiar that you were amazed you had never felt it before. Suddenly all your hatred and miseries just dissolved like they were never important and you felt so light, so light. It was dizzying and comfortable at the same time. You wanted to share that feeling with everybody in the whole world, even the ones you thought had hurt you and made you sad.

Then you knew, things that have happened before were just drills to prepare you for that one time. Without them all, you'd be just too ignorant to notice those tiny wings fluttering before your eyes.

You see, when placed under right circumstances, even a lump of black stone can turn into something else.

The mirror

You looked at the mirror long enough until it started to change. Into her. Oh no, not her again. She sat there motionless and you could sense that she was staring at you. You were looking at the folds of clothes on her chest. Faded red and grey.  They were moving silently, the chest under it breathing. But you didn't dare to look up to her eyes. Afraid of what? The furthest you could go was her neck, There were faint lines of darker colors on her neck and rings of brown hairs curling around it. You looked and looked and looked until you could almost see the bones that formed those darker lines. But of course, you couldn't. The lines were also moving slowly, in rhythm with the breath.

'Move,' you thought. You wanted to say it but you couldn't. She wouldn't move. 'Move!' you said in your mind, as if it was louder than before. She stayed still. You looked down at her fingers, folded together on her lap. They were thin and sad. The skin around the nails were chapped a bit. 'Move,' you said again in your mind. The right ring finger twitched a bit and a hope flickered. But that was it. She just wouldn't move. You were beginning to worry. How long has it been going on? Minutes went so fast and you were afraid it would be hours.

'Move!' you shouted in your mind. Damn bitch still wouldn't move. 'Move! Move! Move, bitch!' you shouted and shouted in desperation. Suddenly you snapped and looked up into her eyes. She was looking at you desperately. You couldn't stand her. You walked away.

She has moved away.

Nobody. Can't. Be. Trusted.

Thank you.

I told my son to say thank you whenever people do something for him. Every single thing. He would say thank you to me whenever I bring him a bowl of cereal or a glass of water, he'd say thank you to the waiter when they bring him his order, and he'd say thank you to the supermarket cashier when they hand him the candy I bought for him. He'd say thank you hundreds of times a day for every things, big and little, that people do for him.

I used to grow up without knowing the words 'thank you'. I was led to believe that everything was supposed to be the way that it was. There were people who'd do things for you. Everything was to be taken for granted. I took everything around me for granted and I was taken for granted.

But then I found out that nobody has the obligation to do things for you. Most of the time, whenever someone do something for other people, it's an option. No mothers have the obligation to care for their children, no children have the obligation to respect their parents, no waiters have the obligation to bring food to their customers. It's all their options, they choose to do it, whatever the reason is. Nobody has to do anything for anybody. You are actually alone.

So I say thank you when my son gives me a bite from his biscuits. I say thank you to the cashiers when they hand me my bought goods, and thank you to my husband when he reads me letters from school that are written in foreign letters. I used to say thank you to my son's nanny every night when she was through with her daily duties, to my office drivers when they dropped me at home everyday, and to my first husband whenever he made me a cup of coffee after work. I say thank you a hundred times a day. Not to any gods, not for my fucking life, not out of gratefulness for the whole world, but I say thank you to people because they have chosen to do things for me. Because they have made my unbearable life somewhat easier to go through.

On the way to the station

I could see his back in front of me. His body leaning to the front, his bag on left shoulder. When we went faster, the underneath of his jacket went flapping on both sides of his body. It looked like he was flying, and I was flying behind him. Following him.

He glanced behind from time to time, making sure that I was still there. His face consistently bear some kind of worried expression, as if he was afraid that I might just disappear. Sometimes I got caught behind, some vehicles were blocking down the traffic, or I just had to stop to catch my breath (it's not easy biking with a 18kgs kid sitting behind). I shouted, intended to stop him, but my voice was always too low, muffled by too much noises in the street. He didn't hear me and kept flapping ahead. He became smaller and smaller, and then vanished in the corner of the street.

He has gone.

But that wouldn't be long. Soon enough I'd see him coursing back, his eyes went everywhere looking for me. That same worried look, sometimes a bit more intense. When our eyes met, he looked relieved. As he came approaching, he asked if everything was alright. I said everything was alright and then we flew again.

I want to be in that street forever. Flying forever. Following you.

Quote of the day

Good friends stay when you're in bad times, but better friends stay even when you're in good times.

Excuse me for being boring

My husband bought me a sewing machine on July 5, 2008.
Since then, I have used it to make: 5 dresses, 1 tote bag, 5 child's clothes, 1 men's shirt, 3 denim hats, a pair of mittens, 1 child's messenger bag.
That's about 1 item in every 2.8 day.

Maybe I need some kind of AA meeting for sewing addiction.

Becoming Sidora-chan

Today is his first day in the new kindergarten. The backpack, little bag for inside shoes, coat, and hat are provided by the school. We've bought him canvas inside shoes from a shoe store nearby and some colourful eating utensils from Ikea. Every single things, down to his toothbrush, has to be labelled with his name and class. So I learnt how to write his name and class in Japanese.

To my surprise, he didn't shed a single tear when I left him in school this morning. Just a little clutch on my sleeves, a bit of sweet talk from the teacher (in Japanese, which neither of us could understand anyway), and off he went to play with other kids. I thought I almost burst out with pride.

I walked home by myself, and suddenly realized that it was the first time I walked alone in Japan.

You are what you are what you are

- Enough with the birds' chirpings, I need my purple-tinted glasses back.

- So I'm beginning to have some sort of split personality syndrome here. Fuck the audience.

No, thanks.

I don't mean to be polite, I just sincerely don't want it.
So stop treating me like I'm a shy little girl.

No reason.

You do it just because you can, don't you?

Why are you so quiet.

Because speaking can actually cause me too much pain.

The Stranger

Then I suddenly realize that if one of them dies, I won't be feeling any sadness. I don't mean to sound so heartless. In fact, I don't mean to sound like anything. Of course I've known them all my life, but somehow they just don't... register in my heart.

Maybe that explains why I love the first sentence of Albert Camus' Stranger. 'Maman died today. Or yesterday maybe, I don't know.' No, it's not a wish. It's not anything. It's just a fact. Were it a fact for me too today, I think I'd be feeling the same thing.

I keep thinking that there must be a point somewhere along the line when it all started. But as hard as I try to remember it, I just can't. If that point did exist, the times that had passed before it must have been just a series of blanks.

Do I want to feel anything? I don't really know. I mean, do I? How am I supposed to want something I've never had anyway? I don't even know if that's a bad thing or not. At least, I'm free from any attachment. Is that a good thing? Well, I don't know either.

It's not even hatred. I don't want to erase them from my life or anything. They just don't matter that much. And I can't remember why.

If there's anything sad here, it's the fact that I don't feel any sadness.

Did you really say that?

Did you really say that it is my fault you're now miserable?

Happiness comes in yellow envelope.

They say,

"Home is where your heart is."

Feeling Nerdy

I believe
that
you are v2.0

the others were just betas.

Pretty Suspicion

I am
pretty suspicious
pretty pretty
suspicious

about
all love songs
in the world

I think
they
have been created
merely for
and
just about

you and me.

Say it a hundred times

I'm not allowed to be tired because nobody can help me but me. I'm not allowed to be tired because nobody can help me but me. I'm not allowed to be tired because nobody can help me but me. I'm not allowed to be tired because nobody can help me but me. I'm not allowed to be tired because nobody can help me but me. I'm not allowed to be tired because nobody can help me but me. I'm not allowed to be tired because nobody can help me but me. I'm not allowed to be tired because nobody can help me but me. I'm not allowed to be tired because nobody can help me but me. I'm not allowed to be tired because nobody can help me but me. I'm not allowed to be tired because nobody can help me but me. I'm not allowed to be tired because nobody can help me but me. I'm not allowed to be tired because nobody can help me but me. I'm not allowed to be tired because nobody can help me but me. I'm not allowed to be tired because nobody can help me but me. I'm not allowed to be tired because nobody can help me but me. I'm not allowed to be tired because nobody can help me but me. I'm not allowed to be tired because nobody can help me but me. I'm not allowed to be tired because nobody can help me but me. I'm not allowed to be tired because nobody can help me but me. I'm not allowed to be tired because nobody can help me but me. I'm not allowed I'm not allowed I'm not allowed I'm not allowed I'm not allowed I'm not allowed I'm not allowed
to be tired
because
nobody
nobody
nobody

can help me

but me.
but me.
but me.

but

me.