Tuesday, May 31, 2005
drifting around the depths



I went up the street to get the mail out of the mailbox and saw two of my neighbors, a man and his son, who looked about 12 or 13. They were talking and laughing as they were walking their dogs. The big Labrador bitch ran up to me, tail wagging and panting, and jumped up to press her muzzle into my face. I scratched her behind her ears before giving her a gentle nudge to get her to go back to her owners.

After I got the mail, I turned around and watched for a bit as the man and his son walked away from me with the dogs, until they rounded the corner and were out of sight. I knew the feeling would come, but I couldn't surpress it, no matter how much I tried.

Envy.

I knew I was jealous of the son and his father... because no matter how much I wish things were different, I'll never have that they have. I was stripped of it long ago.

I wanted to forget the feeling like people forget about APA History month.

.:.

Life is strange in the ways it forces you adapt. I've done my best to adapt to my circumstances, and perhaps, I've become too accustomed to my disappointment and pain. It lies unspoken beneath the surface, my sad experiences nothing but a novelty to those who don't really understand what it's like. And when the rare person traverses the depths, when they glimpse the ugliness of the hollowed out me, they can't help but flinch.

I don't really blame them.

Self-imposed solitude is sometimes as much about controling the ugliness as it is about maintaining sanity. My already limited abilities to socialize really diminish in the face of the aggravation caused by people who just don't understand. In the course of my rather short life, I've only known one person who understood my circumstances and how I feel.

But the story about that will have to wait for another time... sleep calls.

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Comments:
Angela - nice. makes me wonder who won the relay... the flower-passing ikebana club or the shinai swining kendo club. haha.
 
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in?scrip?tion (n-skrip-shun)n.
1. The act or an instance of inscribing.
2. Something, such as the wording on a coin, medal, monument, or seal, that is inscribed.
3. A short, signed message in a book or on a photograph given as a gift.
4. The usually informal dedication of an artistic work.
5. Jeremiah 31:33

the facts.
name. Gar AKA "that Chinese guy" "Sleepy.McSleeping"
ethnicity/nationality. Chinese/American, 4th gen.
location. Sea-Town, WA, USA Kawanishi, JAPAN
occupation. less-cynical poor grad student
age. younger than you think, older than you know

 



 

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(myname) @ gmail.com

 

 

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