Onii-san, odaiji ni :)
Sunday, August 22, 2010
I felt like crying when I was watching my foster brother eating. He injured his right hand yesterday while playing soccer. And he injured it real badly.
His right wrist bone broke/dislocated(?) and needs an operation since casting won’t do. According to my foster mother, the place of injury was quite difficult and an operation is needed.
My onii-san does a lot of things like soccer, baseball, part-time jobs (yeah, plural. jobS.), and a whole lot of things that I’m sure I do not know of. That’s why we barely talk nor even see each other much. It’s either he’s out working, studying, or training, or he’s in his room, resting while he has the time. With these tons of activities he has on hand, I’m sure his injury is a jama(hindrance).
I watched him eat using his left hand while we were eating lunch. He tried using chopsticks at first, but asked for a fork afterwards. With a fork, it seemed a bit easier, but he still took time. Eating the basil sauced- spaghetti looked difficult too. I really did pity him. He is someone who I looked up to, and I know he has a lot of things to do. I wanted to tell him that I was worried, too. But, I can’t speak, maybe it won’t be right.
I made a promise with myself, though, that I’d help him. I’d offer him help even though he might refuse. I’d pray for his quick recovery (because he has plans to go to Disneyland with his friends this September; he really, really, REALLY wants to go) and I’ll be on a look out for him, in case he needs help.
It’s my chance to build my brother-sister relationship with him. I want him to see the little sister that my real brother sees.
Onii-san, get well soon. Ganbatte.
His right wrist bone broke/dislocated(?) and needs an operation since casting won’t do. According to my foster mother, the place of injury was quite difficult and an operation is needed.
My onii-san does a lot of things like soccer, baseball, part-time jobs (yeah, plural. jobS.), and a whole lot of things that I’m sure I do not know of. That’s why we barely talk nor even see each other much. It’s either he’s out working, studying, or training, or he’s in his room, resting while he has the time. With these tons of activities he has on hand, I’m sure his injury is a jama(hindrance).
I watched him eat using his left hand while we were eating lunch. He tried using chopsticks at first, but asked for a fork afterwards. With a fork, it seemed a bit easier, but he still took time. Eating the basil sauced- spaghetti looked difficult too. I really did pity him. He is someone who I looked up to, and I know he has a lot of things to do. I wanted to tell him that I was worried, too. But, I can’t speak, maybe it won’t be right.
I made a promise with myself, though, that I’d help him. I’d offer him help even though he might refuse. I’d pray for his quick recovery (because he has plans to go to Disneyland with his friends this September; he really, really, REALLY wants to go) and I’ll be on a look out for him, in case he needs help.
It’s my chance to build my brother-sister relationship with him. I want him to see the little sister that my real brother sees.
Onii-san, get well soon. Ganbatte.
And then my best friend, what-if's, came along D:
Thursday, August 19, 2010
What-if's followed me to Japan. He said my life would be better with him. I thought otherwise though. But, he's already here. So, I let him join me around for a bit.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I kept thinking, what if I was the one left. What if I was the one with shattered dreams. What could've been between me and people that used to be around me?
What if I were there, feeling what other people feel. Seeing what they see. Breathing the same air they breathe. What if I was still stuck with the same routine? Waking early, eating breakfast, taking a jeep to school?
Would my presence make a difference? Would my presence lighten someone's world? Or would my presence turn someone's wonderful world into something full of hatred?
What would I be if I were there? What would I be doing if I were left?
Right now, I'm hating photos. I'm hating Facebook.Because I don't really want to look back. I really don't want to look at everyone right now. I want to shut every connection for this time. But, I can't. I won't. My life would be in a mess if I did.
What do I need to do? Should I just live right now? No looking back. No what-if's and what-would's? Should I believe that God sent me here for a reason, for the best reason we could never know? Should I believe that He didn't just give this blessing because I wanted it, instead He gave it because He knew it was for my improvement? Even if the sacrifice would be leaving everything behind?
Yes, I think so. I think that's what I should do.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I kept thinking, what if I was the one left. What if I was the one with shattered dreams. What could've been between me and people that used to be around me?
What if I were there, feeling what other people feel. Seeing what they see. Breathing the same air they breathe. What if I was still stuck with the same routine? Waking early, eating breakfast, taking a jeep to school?
Would my presence make a difference? Would my presence lighten someone's world? Or would my presence turn someone's wonderful world into something full of hatred?
What would I be if I were there? What would I be doing if I were left?
Right now, I'm hating photos. I'm hating Facebook.Because I don't really want to look back. I really don't want to look at everyone right now. I want to shut every connection for this time. But, I can't. I won't. My life would be in a mess if I did.
What do I need to do? Should I just live right now? No looking back. No what-if's and what-would's? Should I believe that God sent me here for a reason, for the best reason we could never know? Should I believe that He didn't just give this blessing because I wanted it, instead He gave it because He knew it was for my improvement? Even if the sacrifice would be leaving everything behind?
Yes, I think so. I think that's what I should do.
To you, lucky girl :)
Saturday, August 14, 2010
Hey, lucky girl, I hate you.
You’ve been too selfish. Too greedy.
You’ve had the good times. You even made a name by just being yourself. You weren’t that famous, but you didn’t mind because you realized there were a lot more things worth than fame. You were the girl who often had mood swings; the girl who would laugh out loud and wouldn’t care if all eyes would turn to you. You even fell in love with the wrong boy, and even forgave him for breaking your heart on a very special day. You’re too kind. To everyone. To everything. You seem to love everyone and everything around you more than yourself. Though you may be rude and intimidating at times, you make sure it’s at the right time. You aren’t perfect, and you know that much. You can’t do things others can do. But, you want to excel on your own. And be known for what you have done.
You’re not perfect, lucky girl. You really are not. There are a hundred million people better than you.
And yet, you’re so lucky. For that, you don’t know how much I hate you.
Going back to the past, you seem to be happy.Then you became too happy and everything started to fall one by one. But you were lucky enough to hold on to something. And that something, you considered your little sweet escape. Because you thought you were falling apart. You thought everything was slipping from your hands. At that time, you thought you were lost. You thought you were the worst.
Now, bring back those words. Bring them back. Take it inside your whole system and feel the guilt. Lucky girl, do you see them now— the things you’ve left behind? Think. Did you really need to escape? Were you the one who really needed a break?
Lucky girl, you’re having the time of your life right now. But, please look back. Look back and see what they’re seeing. Step back and feel what they’re feeling. It’s too late though, lucky girl. You can’t escape from your little sweet escape. Because you’d even make things worse for them.
Lucky girl, this time, you chose the wrong time to be lucky. Your life was well before, and yet it looked like you wanted more of the good things. You got it. You didn’t consider others, though. Others who might need what you have. Now, look what you’ve done. Look.
You’ve been too selfish. Too greedy.
You’ve had the good times. You even made a name by just being yourself. You weren’t that famous, but you didn’t mind because you realized there were a lot more things worth than fame. You were the girl who often had mood swings; the girl who would laugh out loud and wouldn’t care if all eyes would turn to you. You even fell in love with the wrong boy, and even forgave him for breaking your heart on a very special day. You’re too kind. To everyone. To everything. You seem to love everyone and everything around you more than yourself. Though you may be rude and intimidating at times, you make sure it’s at the right time. You aren’t perfect, and you know that much. You can’t do things others can do. But, you want to excel on your own. And be known for what you have done.
You’re not perfect, lucky girl. You really are not. There are a hundred million people better than you.
And yet, you’re so lucky. For that, you don’t know how much I hate you.
Going back to the past, you seem to be happy.Then you became too happy and everything started to fall one by one. But you were lucky enough to hold on to something. And that something, you considered your little sweet escape. Because you thought you were falling apart. You thought everything was slipping from your hands. At that time, you thought you were lost. You thought you were the worst.
Now, bring back those words. Bring them back. Take it inside your whole system and feel the guilt. Lucky girl, do you see them now— the things you’ve left behind? Think. Did you really need to escape? Were you the one who really needed a break?
Lucky girl, you’re having the time of your life right now. But, please look back. Look back and see what they’re seeing. Step back and feel what they’re feeling. It’s too late though, lucky girl. You can’t escape from your little sweet escape. Because you’d even make things worse for them.
Lucky girl, this time, you chose the wrong time to be lucky. Your life was well before, and yet it looked like you wanted more of the good things. You got it. You didn’t consider others, though. Others who might need what you have. Now, look what you’ve done. Look.
Wasted D:
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
This is the life.
Wake up at 9 am. Eat a slice of bread with choco cream which your mother left for you on top of the table. Go back to your room and write something on your journal. And you sleep. Sleep. Sleep. You wake up at 11 am and think whether you’ll take your lunch and go out of the house afterwards. But, you still sleep. Sleep. Sleep. Sleep until it reaches 12.30 pm. And then finally you’ll decide that you’ve had enough sleep. And you eat your obento prepared by your mother. You eat it inside your messy room, which has gotten messier than ever. You eat your obento while listening to music from your laptop. And you take time eating the obento because basically everything’s carbohydrates—the rice, some spaghetti, and some baked potatoes. And you consider it a problem eating because neither the potatoes nor the spaghetti would neutralize the taste of the unsavory rice toppings. Your mind sings along with the songs playing, but your mouth never opens to sing. You end up eating within thirty minutes. You waste an hour thinking about everything you can think of. And then at 2 pm, you decide to start being functional. You start studying. Reviewing what you have learned. Writing and reading what’s inside of your textbook. And then you start studying something new. Until you’ve finished, you’ll realize 2 hours have passed. And you feel happy because you spent two hours being functional. And then, you reward yourself with an ice cream. And while you ate it, you write again in your journal. Write. Write. Write. Until you’ve created a haiku. And then, you’ll feel sleepy again. You’ll sleep for 15 minutes. And then you wake up because there’s some banging and clanging outside. But you’ll realize your saliva has spread over the left side of your face because of your hand. So you start cleaning it up you’ll realize you’ll have to go to the toilet again. And then in the kitchen, you’ll see your brother, but you won’t say anything. When you get back to your room, you’ll hear footsteps outside. Your brother’s. Going out for his part-time job. You get your laptop and connected the LAN cable. And then you check your mail for the second time hoping there would be something new. But you find none. So you reply to your mother’s mail. And then you find your best friend on line. And then you chat. And she tells you about one of the wasted days of her life. While you wait for her stories, you’re still working on your mother’s mail. And then you finally send it. And then you search something about DBSK. And why you just can’t get enough of them. But while you’re having fun searching for their songs and chatting with your BFF, your father comes inside the house from work. You say ‘okaerinasai’ as a welcome-back. And then you reply to one of your friends’ mail. And then you said goodbye to your best friend though it took some time. You go back to your room. Your father calls your sister to dinner. You hear this and go out too. You eat dinner. You watch a little TV. You take a bath. You endlessly watch DBSK’s videos. And then you feel the urge to write. So you write this. To tell the world how wasted you are for the day.
This is, in fact, the life.
The life that I don’t want.
Take my free time. Eat my free time. For free. No charge. Just take ‘em. I really really really won’t mind. D:
Wake up at 9 am. Eat a slice of bread with choco cream which your mother left for you on top of the table. Go back to your room and write something on your journal. And you sleep. Sleep. Sleep. You wake up at 11 am and think whether you’ll take your lunch and go out of the house afterwards. But, you still sleep. Sleep. Sleep. Sleep until it reaches 12.30 pm. And then finally you’ll decide that you’ve had enough sleep. And you eat your obento prepared by your mother. You eat it inside your messy room, which has gotten messier than ever. You eat your obento while listening to music from your laptop. And you take time eating the obento because basically everything’s carbohydrates—the rice, some spaghetti, and some baked potatoes. And you consider it a problem eating because neither the potatoes nor the spaghetti would neutralize the taste of the unsavory rice toppings. Your mind sings along with the songs playing, but your mouth never opens to sing. You end up eating within thirty minutes. You waste an hour thinking about everything you can think of. And then at 2 pm, you decide to start being functional. You start studying. Reviewing what you have learned. Writing and reading what’s inside of your textbook. And then you start studying something new. Until you’ve finished, you’ll realize 2 hours have passed. And you feel happy because you spent two hours being functional. And then, you reward yourself with an ice cream. And while you ate it, you write again in your journal. Write. Write. Write. Until you’ve created a haiku. And then, you’ll feel sleepy again. You’ll sleep for 15 minutes. And then you wake up because there’s some banging and clanging outside. But you’ll realize your saliva has spread over the left side of your face because of your hand. So you start cleaning it up you’ll realize you’ll have to go to the toilet again. And then in the kitchen, you’ll see your brother, but you won’t say anything. When you get back to your room, you’ll hear footsteps outside. Your brother’s. Going out for his part-time job. You get your laptop and connected the LAN cable. And then you check your mail for the second time hoping there would be something new. But you find none. So you reply to your mother’s mail. And then you find your best friend on line. And then you chat. And she tells you about one of the wasted days of her life. While you wait for her stories, you’re still working on your mother’s mail. And then you finally send it. And then you search something about DBSK. And why you just can’t get enough of them. But while you’re having fun searching for their songs and chatting with your BFF, your father comes inside the house from work. You say ‘okaerinasai’ as a welcome-back. And then you reply to one of your friends’ mail. And then you said goodbye to your best friend though it took some time. You go back to your room. Your father calls your sister to dinner. You hear this and go out too. You eat dinner. You watch a little TV. You take a bath. You endlessly watch DBSK’s videos. And then you feel the urge to write. So you write this. To tell the world how wasted you are for the day.
This is, in fact, the life.
The life that I don’t want.
Take my free time. Eat my free time. For free. No charge. Just take ‘em. I really really really won’t mind. D:
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)