Sometimes I wonder… (A series of thoughts of a fucked up life) [Part 1]
To my dears readers, if there’s any, this story has little to do with Japan… maybe it does. But it’ll be a lot more introspective than already is. And I believe it will be long.
I tried to put my stories in 10 minutes less of reading, especially because I don’t like being a bother to anyone. And if someone actually bother’s reading this, I shouldn’t take much of his/her time. Just entertain while I practice my writing skills in english.
Ok, so… for starts, I really wanted to write down my experiences in Japan from the beginning, but never actually had that much of will and patience. I’m as lazy as it comes I guess… But in the past few months, since February, it’s 2019 just for the record, to be more precise, a few events happened in my life and, gotta be honest here, killing myself did crossed my mind a couple of times. Those weren’t exactly life changing events, or at least I think they’re not, nor something stoic with full of morals and teachings. No, nothing so noble.
Also isn’t something that I’m comfortable to talk or write, so I thought of doing it in homeopathic doses, writing little by little.
Truth be told (or written), I think it’s pretty silly. But I do believe that any problem is as gigantic as it can be for the one passing through it, as silly as it may look. “The devil is in the details”.
Anyway, didn’t killed myself, and I’m not one of the shorties of Jorge Luis Borges, so… instead of taking my own life, I’m doing what I know how to do best: writing… (english isn’t the best part, ok…)
Somehow, physiologists says that talking to someone helps, and it really does. Who of us just didn’t sit with a friend (sometimes drinking beer, sometimes drinking coffee) and spoke or heads out and, in the end, we ended up a lot more lighter and peaceful? The problem is, I don’t have this “friend” to talk with here in Japan. Interned does help, but it isn’t the same. Physical contact, the fact to have the person on the other side of the table… that makes all the difference. Trust me on this one.
What is left to me, then?
Write.
Write to no one.
Write to anyone.
Like shouting in an empty forest.
This publication is my shout.
I believe I would have to start this story clarifying a few things. Maybe I’ll enter in details in other stories, or not, bot for now, suffice to say I have never ever, NEVER, be in a relationship before. Never had a girlfriend before.
Part of that is because I actually never got any interested in relationship. Sometimes I did got interested for a girl, but nothing ever happened. Never done much of an effort anyways, so… no surprise there. And also, I think I was to busy studying, reading books, playing games and being a reclusive introspective.
Most of it, I would dare say: I’m a wuss. I chicken out a lot.
Also, a little bit, is that I actually never had any reason to look for a relationship while I lived in Brazil. Truth be told, I lived with my parents and had nearly anything. My paycheck in any jobs there where quite low and, although I could afford an apartment in a very isolated and shitty neighborhood, I rather stay with my folks and save the money for… books… books are quite expensive in Brazil.
At this point you, if there’s any, my reader should’ve said something like: “Ah!” And, yeah, it was (still is) a woman. And I felt (and still feeling) like shit. Then again, it was this feeling of killing myself, this broken heart feeling of shitty insanity, that gave me the impulse to start writing again, but this time in english.
Gotta say a little about this girl, she’s Vietnamese and if you do a little research, they are quite beautiful. But that’s not the case here, this girl that I fell in love with is the cutest thing I ever saw, also, she have the cutest voice. But what made me fell for her nearly instantly, she speak english really, really well, and also she’s intelligent, graduate under accountability.
Bottom of the line, I got to know a few things about vietnamese… they only marry vietnamese, open incredible rare exceptions. Not exactly incomprehensible. They have a very closed culture and customs, so it’s hard to get involved with’em. Language is also a barrier and, most of them, wish to return to their countries, and having a foreigner as a husband/wife, isn’t something they would proudly announce.
Of course, that’s not to say there’re more open minded vietnamese. If you live in Vietnam, you probably have more chances in enter in a relationship with a local. Here in Japan, your gotta be very, very, luck. Not my case, anyway. Even so, gotta respect one thing, and keep that in mind: when they date, it’s for marriage. From what I heard and read. Still, not a problem to me because living here alone, I started to care more about having a relationship. Getting married, having children. If not here, anywhere, really.
The problem is: even if you are willing to learn a different culture, the other person may not. That’s not only for vietnamese, but I think to any other culture and westerns being a whole lot different, it may be a bigger problem.
Again, this is only a generalization, not a rule, but what I’ve seen and lived.
Being alone and living here made me realize of how lonely it can get and, for a lot of people that’s a good thing, for me, not so much. I guess I was raised more of a family guy type (not the cartoon, if you wondering) I’ve just realized that the idea of getting married and having kids is something that I want.
I do think if any of my friends back in Brazil read this… they would call emergency to rescue me… but it’s true.
Back in Brazil I didn’t had the conditions to think about having a family, especially because of the violence, and now that I have this option… having someone to share my life seems not only necessary, but possible. Anyway, that’s my mindset since a few months after I got here (another story, another day).
Anyways… don’t think life would want me married and happy. Being loved, being happy, being married… yeah, right… don’t deserve that, I think. Should skipped studies and being more of an asshole than tried hard to help everyone.
Tip for myself: being kind, being good, will only bring more unhappiness and fucked up situations.
Basically, I really though something would happen between me and this girl (I’m such a romantic drunktard), so I stood in this job. When things derailed, and I got some really nasty unfriendliness from her friends (again another story)… I quit my job.. it was just to hard to work within the same section as her, and she does have a lot of friends. She’s good, me, on the other hand, have nothing to hold to, although I really wish there was.
So… what I wanted to talk about when I started this depressive (as all are) story is that these last few weeks have been the most, gigantic, huge, fucked up space of time of my entire life. I mean, I had bad days (like those which you want to die on the spot), I had bad weeks (those that when the weekend comes, you just want to sleep through it to reach the next one alive), but those few weeks, gotta say, I wonder how the hell I’m still alive, because… damn… talk’n about life kick’n a dead sac of shit on the floor (I’m that sac)… I’m feeling it thoroughly.
Let me see:
My uncle died: check.
A good and cheerful old lady that worked smiling in a drop dead zombieland of a working environment, died: check.
All that so close to my birthday: happy fuck’n check.
Then, today, I caught a conversation between the vietnamese girls that one of two of them were marring (one was the above clearly mentioned girl). I could be wrong, but it wouldn’t be surprising (and also not less hurtful) that that is correct.
Check.
You know, when you love someone really, really deeply, but this someone doesn’t loves you. Although it hurts like taking a little dive in a pool of lava and, after laying in salt, you really wish for the happiness of that person. And I really do.
But that doesn’t mean it hurts any tiny bit less.
Life…
This cherry on top of these fucked up few weeks…
The fuck is this for?
Less then 28 days to leave this job…
Long story/post. No meaning, no reason, still a shout to no one or anyone out there in the forest of bits. Maybe long like this sea of shittness that I’m drowning myself into. Ok, not that long… maybe something as close as The Odyssey.
