Wednesday, March 23, 2011


Sometimes there are no words for what your heart is feeling.
Sometimes there's just too much to try and figure out a "correct" way to say it.
Even if you don't know much or anything about earthquakes or plate tectonics, this should click something in your brain.
I see things like this, and this, and so much more, and it just breaks my heart. Hurt and pain and destruction in a place I hold very close to my heart (for more reasons than I can possibly start to list), and there's very little I can do to help. Donate some money, maybe. Pray, continuously. But what could I possibly to to fix this? Nothing. All I can do is know that other people are doing what they can, even if it's not much, and that Japan is holding out hope.
What will happen to the nuclear reactors? I don't know. How long will it take for Japan to rebuild what's been damaged? I don't know. I can't know anything, really.
I do, though, firmly believe that Japan will recover from this, no matter what our news tabloids say about the declining population, or whatever else. They made it through so many wars, two nuclear bombs, countless other earthquakes and tsunamis... they'll make it through this too, no matter what happens. After all,
地震 = earthquake
自信 = confidence
and they are both pronounced "jishin." I feel like that means something.

Wednesday, February 23, 2011

Glass Masquerade

Today, I was debating about what I wanted to post. I thought about posting a real blog, I thought about posting a poem I wrote recently. I eventually decided on actually writing a post, and I even had this really good idea... I just changed my mind. Literally, when I opened the browser window. I'm going to give you the poem. The title is as it says up there- "Glass Masquerade." I wrote it for one of my classes and turned it in yesterday... it got peer reviewed, and pretty much everyone said they liked it. There was a little confusion here and there, but overall it got a good response. Anyway, I want to share it with anyone and everyone who might read this, and I really do want to know what you think. Anything from one word to a couple paragraphs (or more, if you like), I'm open to anything. Comment anonymously if you like. Whatever. I've recently been getting much more into poetry, and I really want to know if it makes any sort of sense to anyone else. So yeah. Here goes.


It was the night
Of your 23rd birthday
When we danced.
I didn't know you,
Nor you me,
And we were wearing masks.

You were leaning against a wall,
Out of the way,
When I found you.
You were quiet, so
I stayed.
I didn't hate you.

Silence only lasts so long;
They found us,
And we had to stop hiding.
You asked me inside your eyes:
"Please." Just please.
I agreed.

You took my hand, and
They let you go.
You can't be stopped, after all,
Whether you're smiling or
Not. But this time you did
And I was happy.

We danced that night,
In circles, together.
And we were wearing masks.

Sunday, January 23, 2011


It amazes me how much people change in a fairly short period of time. Just a little while ago, just for the heck of it, I was creeping around facebook, looking at pictures of people I didn’t go a day without seeing back in high school; people who were my best friends. Not trying to brag here, but there are quite a few of them. Now, I hardly keep in touch with any of them. Almost none of them, in fact. It kinda got me wondering about a few things:

What happened? (Who knows?)

When did we lose touch? (ditto)

Why did we lose touch? (…)

Was it because of college? (… quite possibly, at least indirectly)

Have they changed? (Some of them, yes; some habits, yes; others not.)

Have I changed? (Yes.)

Do I know anything about them anymore? (Not really, not anything important)

Do they know anything about me? (Probably not.)

Do they still think about high school sometimes? (I hope so.)

Would I ever want to go back to high school? (Goodness gracious no, but I’m glad for all the experiences, good and bad.)

Do they think they still know me? (I bet a lot of them think I haven’t changed.)

What would it be like, to get all of us together again? (A bit of a terrifying thought.)

Do I even want that to happen? (Good question.)

It’s strange to think about. “Nostalgia” is probably not the right word for what I’m feeling/thinking right now, but something similar, without the wistfulness bit. It’s been less than three years since I graduated high school, and yet I feel like I’m not the same person at all. I mean, heck, I’m not even the same person I was one year ago, that’s for sure. Some people *ahem-some-of-you-know-who-I’m-talking-about-here-ahem* seem to be upset by the fact that I’ve changed; others not.

The girls especially, I see pictures of what these people have become, and I honestly thank God that I did not turn out that way. Lots of these people are exactly the same, in their own way. Maybe that doesn’t make sense to you, but think about it for a second. I can elaborate sometime, if you want. Comment. Let me know.

Time passes so quickly. Exactly one year ago tomorrow I was getting on a plane to go to Japan. I’ve already been there, had the time of my life, met some unforgettable people, some of the best and most influential, thought-provoking people I’ve met in my life, and come back completely changed. My plans for the future changed completely. I thought I knew what I wanted, but due to quite a few circumstances (including, but not exclusively Japan) I’m not so sure anymore. I do know that it’s got pretty much nothing to do with anything I thought in high school, or even the beginning of university.

Interesting stuff. Weird, fascinating, strange stuff. Too bad I don't get to speculate more tonight though. Classes start, for me, at 8am tomorrow morning, only this year they’re in Wisconsin, not Hirakata. Boring. Well who knows, maybe there’s something exciting in store for me this semester that I don’t know anything about yet. I can hope.