nanashi

yesterday I set the challenge level too high. And ended up escaping, as always. Then I spent the evening doing meaningless things instead of what I had rather done.

When I was going to end the day with my usual routine it didn’t feel right anymore. Maybe some pent up energy will help me next challenge. It will be a modest one.

During my stay in Kyoto I went to several matsuri with a woman I had met at the local Goethe institute. They organised regular meetings for their German learners with native speakers and she had asked me if I would be interested to go to some of the local festivals with her.

Anyway, one of the nighttime festivals involved some walking up to the premises where the ceremony was held and we overheard a Korean woman walking in front of us talking to her friend in her native language. I commented to my friend that I liked how Korean woman talk and that it always sounds as if they’re complaining about something. I think she heard us too since she turned around to look at me, with a puzzled look on her face. Although I might be making that last part up as it was really to dark to tell for sure. I already thought so back in Kyoto. I have a clear recollection of me doubting my recollection then.

Anyway, when I had just come to Japan some fellow exchange students from Korea taught me how to eat with chopsticks. I had bought some instant ramen type food and had trouble eating it. The other students saw me and explained to me how to use them properly. I was very relieved because I already had some troubles managing those sticks in the university cafeteria at lunch time.

Actually that wasn’t the first time I had someone explain the use of chopsticks to me but the first time I gave up because it seemed easier to eat with my fingers then. That was at our university’s bounenkai where among other food we ate some karaage which then were just chicken wings to me (even though they’re not really wings but they looked like that on first impression). So some of the credit goes to the female student who had started studying Japanese in the same semester as me and tried to teach me how to properly eat Japanese food when I wasn’t yet feeling the necessity to seriously give it a try.

I master things pretty quickly but it’s usually the second or third attempt after several half assed ones. My Japanese friends were seemingly impressed by how quickly I had learned to use those sticks but maybe they were just being polite, paying compliments. I myself was/am not polite so wouldn’t have been able to tell even if I had tried, I guess. Instead I tried to resist stereotyping but I guess I was hyper correcting the prejudices of my own culture.

The Korean exchange students got increasingly pissed off at me though for me never returning the favor of showing considerateness. When I brought a scissor to the common room kitchen the one who taught me how to use chopsticks expressed his anger by asking me if i was going to use it for cutting the noodles short implying I still had trouble with Asian cuisine. I laughed and commented on his remark being “a good one”. That helped them figure me out much faster than any of the other nationality students did especially the European and other Western country ones.

When I started spending time in the common living room many interpreted that as my initial reservedness softening and me opening up to the other dormitory residents. One of the Korean students got it right though when he asked me if I was saving heating expenses by spending time in the already heated common room. Winters in Kyoto aren’t particularly cold but you still need to heat.

This wasn’t the same one who made the comment about the scissors but they were friends and usually came to the kitchen in a group of three. If I had been more compassionate I would probably have offered to help him with his German studies. Instead I always waited for people to ask me for help. So he got help from another German exchange student who incidentally also became good friends with an female American student who had shown interest in me from the first day we met in Japanese class. I really hurt her by being the wrong kind of asshole. Her strong and openly expressed disappointment demonstrated my inabilities to me very effectively but what was I supposed to do about it?

One of the other Korean students who didn’t always hang out with the other group I wrote about above but still was good friends with them tried to become friends with me as well. I didn’t dislike him or anything but when you always sabotage people’s attempts to get close to you the ones who are used to experience this kind of behavior from certain people will naturally assume you’re of the same kind. When he touched my shoulder affectionately greeting me in the cafeteria one time in the latter half of my one year stay it felt really good. But as usual I didn’t let it show.

I didn’t just recently remember all of this, most of the above I frequently remembered during the last few years. It’s just my tough luck that men are the ones more willing to take a direct approach. But only women can give me the incentive to try to overcome my inability to put passive understanding to active practice. However passiveness is a habit easy to fall back upon.

I’m emotionally retarded. I like to say it like it is and I can admit the truth even if it’s supposed to hurt me.

That part of my island, it’s still full of magic, still governed by its simple rules.

And I suck at RTS. Which is also due to my retardation. I’m blind to the truth when some other, more easily to understand issue I can easily clear is there to distract me.

I had a moment of truth only hours after when it would have been useful. It decided yesterday’s poisonous diet though and it felt very good too.

I’m a control freak. If I feel like I’m in control I can forget about the things I can’t control. Confront me with something I can’t control I remember the other things I can’t control and the burden of injustice is very heavy all of a sudden.

I see what you did there.

Don’t you feel that too many games are too similar to each other. They make you do the same things over and over again. The challenge disappears when you know what to do even before you do it. This should give you a hint of how many things you wanted to cure I already cleared on my own.

I’m not haunted by images of me getting run over by trains when I’m waiting for one anymore. Suicidal is not me. I won that battle already.

People are not objects even if they enjoy being treated like them in play. Play is not 24/7. Life is not a novel even though novels imitate life. Reality is not fiction even if reality is expressed in fiction.

I cut up my love doll because it started making me feel pathetic for even having bought it. I wanted to get rid of feeling pathetic and seal the possibility to use it again. I kept the breasts because I was also shocked by the waste of money it turned out to be, which then felt like quite a lot to me.

When I understood what the Silence of the Lambs actually meant the similarity scared me too. But fiction doesn’t govern reality but the other way round. I make my own reality and I govern my fiction.

You can admit bitter truths without falling for their traps. I’m not a slave to reality but I am its master.

You and I, we both wield very powerful magic. Yet your magic cannot win unless I allow it to and the other way round. But your o-suwari is absolute. You can trust me on that.

Porn. In a way it’s the ultimate tool of male emancipation. Skip all the flirting, dating, compliments, money spending, caring, etc. Canned sexuality of a few women obsoleting the rest of them. Cheating the majority of women of reaping the benefits of their sexual predicament. Porn. It’s my poison. It’s my literature. It’s my solitude. It’s my “can’t get laid in Germany”.

Feeds. Cheating me of my well deserved hits.

Indifference. Not caring about what people think. Not caring for achievements. Not being subject to opinion. Not being easily manipulated. Avoiding achievement. Taking the money. Taking the info. Not taking sides. Understanding everything. Cheating the educational system of their trophy. Cheating society of my gift.

Decency. Cheating men of those would be sluts craving to be unchained.

Home. My home is my castle. It’s my refuge. The world must stay outside. No duties to anybody but myself. Privacy. Not caring about appearance. Slacking off. Enjoying myself. Cheating the world of its star.

Showering. Cheating horny sluts of that sweet ripe smell.

Brilliance. Observation. Keen intellect. Open eyes. Quick grasp. Cheating people of their defenses. Cheating them of their secrets. Cheating them of the silence of shame.

Spycams. Cheating me of my “most brilliant mind in the history of the universe”-superiority.

You want to be my pimp? You want to be my dealer? Please throw some pills in my coke. Please throw me some. Please. Please!

I know I’m missing the point of what you’re saying completely but I just had to reply to what you’re saying.