Sunday, January 01, 2017

Maekamiganai

Maekamiganai



She crept up to me at 5 in the morning.  "Maekamiganai", she whispered.

But it was not in pity.  There were no traces of desperation.  Her eyes were wet though...

She moved to play with her toys: a panda that when folded up gives birth to a baby, a doll with purple hair, and a duck called tsurutsuru.  I fished for more thoughts. She wondered why her brothers hairline was symmetrical and hers was not.  Why his is Asiatic and hers is European?  Why she has a smaller skull size but asymmetrical hairline.  The replied, "Chance, luck, or destiny."

She seemed happy with that. They both seem happy with their lot.  It is true that people say they possess beauty, but we all do. Yet theirs may have a pull for calculated comment, both warm and cold. 

I didn't mention my own sleepless nights because of my own widows peak.  My mother had a large head and my father could sport a fine Mohican. I didn't explain how the widows peak is created through a suppression of a bilateral pair of periorbital fields.  I didn't tell her that without this suppression, my hairline, my fathers hairline, and her hairline would run straight across her head.

Marilyn Monroe had a peak; Di Caprio has one, too.  This might be good company. But I have read they are common in world of politics, and in the world of fiction a high number have the peak. Dracula, for one. Subconsciously I have always known this. And subconsciously my daughter knows there are few in the Disney fodder she digests. 

Consciously, her discovery made me look back at those years of torment.  Needless torment.  When I irrationally hated everything, including the widows peak. I would have got the girl had it not been for that. My worries bothered my mother so much that - out of desperation - she once suggested I use a felt tip to colour-in hairless terrain.  It wasn't a joke, neither!. 

This story made her laugh. She has no complex, but has had concern. She has fewer templates to  experiment with.  More need to plan and set her hair. But she accepts all will be fine. She moves on.  But she had better steel herself for future worlds - of teenage friends, and enemies.

Saturday, December 31, 2016

Removing weaknesses

Yuuki uploaded an avatar with thick black lines covering his face.  Nobody mentioned why he had done it, but everyone knew. Manami, especially.  It was New Years Eve and she wanted the smiles he could not create.  They had never come easily but good-natured Manami was never put off.  She asked him what the season was all about.  He replied:

"It is time to remove weaknesses. That's what this is all about.  An opportunity to do so anyway,  But I wonder. What if the procedure leaves nothing in its place.  What if there are too many?  There may be a flood. Will the body melt away? I worry about this and I know it is a bad way to think. The purity of this snow scares me.  It's so temporary. But, hey, these are the thoughts of madmen.  Is that what I have become?"

Manami couldn't hold back concern and urged him to think positively.  Notably, she kepy her distance. Yuuki continued:

"Let us look at this positively.  It is a time of self-improvement and I shall try.  There is no other way. But will people notice it with my face the way it is. The bequeathement I refuse to accept. I need power. I need to fight debilitation.

At that, Manami tugged at Yuukis sleeve and they skied up and down the slopes.  Manami later sped ahead; Yuuki slowed down to look at his screen.  Newly recommended friends were being recommended on LINE.  They looked so ugly; they looked so gaudy.  Where they saw beauty he saw the best of humanity deformed.  Vacuous profiles in the clench of the ordinary.  He looked down but swiftly looked up again. He had to find a way. He had to go on.

Friday, December 30, 2016

Because of you

My heart ached
Or was breathlessness more true?
Lung or heart, I couldn't tell
Mind-unstable, I turned to look at you:

My heart still ached
But with a joy unrefined
The organ I knew not
But my love
Always true

Calmness, peacefulness, nothingness
You gave these gifts to me
Permitting me to watch you undress
Heaven viewed for free

I see you in sweet young Emily
I view you in Evan, too
Whatever is being sent to me
I fear not because of you

Niigata. 30 12 16

Friday, December 23, 2016

Uncanny Parallels



First written on 21 November 2006.  21 16.

(Above: father and son's crushed fingers. Mine (crushed today); his (crushed yesterday).)

Two uncanny coincidences occurred in the past two days. 

It began when I crushed my son's middle and ring finger inside a closing door.  

I heard my son enter the house and made a decision to surprise him.  But how to do so?  I needed to think quickly. Hiding inside the bathroom I crouched behind the door.  I would jump out, I thought, from a position inside the room but behind the door. To jump out would necessitate part-closing the door. So, I waited. He approached the room.  Little did I know but he had placed three fingers inside it - on the hinges. In closing it I crushed his fingers. He screamed the house down. Ice and water stemmed the screams but the pain continued.  It remains today.

The cause of the disaster met a parallel fate this afternoon.

Rushing to work, I tried to cross a Totsuka crossing with the lights on red, I tripped over and fell.  The oncoming bus didn't hit me, but in avoiding it I crushed the self-same fingers between knee and tarmac. My fingers were the filling; they were crushed without mercy. 

The self-same fingers on the self-same hand that my son had crushed the night before!

Yesterday it was my son; today, it was me. It pained me to write on the chalkboard and now it pains me to type.  I should rest but it is better to get this typed up before the thoughts disappear. You may question the worth of this coincidence.  At minimum, my accident made my son laugh.  He now understands schadenfreude.  But was it more significant than that?  A form of cosmic justice?  A warning from a unseen force?  If it was the Cosmic Joker, then understand when I say:

"You made me laugh in pain. I heed your call."  Anyway, the strangeness continued.

A second parallel came through the title of a text (scheduled to be) used in class, "Rick Takes A Risk"  It was about "Richard" taking a risk.  He asked his boss for a raise but didn't get it.  Now, I didn't ask for a raise, but I did riskily cross a road to save time.  And I risked my sons fingers in pursuit of laughs. I failed both; and started a set of incidents that injured father and son's fingers. 

No proof of anything supernatural, or karmic, of course.  But what were the chances of these two incidents happening to the same bodily parts - and so close in time? 

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Sunday, January 04, 2009

Desperate but not serious.



When he saw her, he was desperate.

Desperate for normality; desperate for love.

Now looking back, for expectations that were not fleshed out,

he sees her world needs alien to his;

That the selfishness she claims is all her own.

"I walked into it;

I walked into your castle,

a filled exchequer and a tough history

With the distinct smell of carrion. "

What a carry on!

He was desperate, not understanding her social needs.

Calmly, it wells up again,

and the self admits an adamant truth,

heard in infancy:

"If I were kind and adoring

How would that be?

Very boring."

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