Wednesday, October 13, 2010

Love's Song

Ai no Uta - ELT
wasn't part of my soundtrack in that part of life...but the melody suits well.
The lyrics might not match so well either, with the reason why I was inspired to walk down this reminiscent road.

Is it that reminiscing is a lonely thing in general, or was it because I was so alone, that period which I am reminiscing?
That period which I felt so strongly, which I was such a silly little girl desperately looking for love.
Desperate... people need to stop using that word so easily and mockingly to describe everyone (same as "rape"...your exam "raped" you? Did it violate you in and leave you feeling colder than stone, where becoming non-existent like the wind was the preference to an irremovable dirt? No? Then no.)
But anyhow, I think I was...desperate. No friends, family a mess...
Honestly I am not saying I don't see where my transformation came from: in puberty I sat in front of the computer and grew fat. I know where my body weight comes from (asides from gene or whatnot). I don't want to blame anyone... it just was.
This morning I was thinking whether "life was fair" or not. My original thought was:
In detail, no. In the larger picture, yes.

But then I thought: actually, the world is neither fair nor unfair. It just...is. So...that might be why it's "fair"..? Things just happen...and they happen.

I could blame my parents for not forcing me to join stuff, my brother for being...him, but I also had myself to blame. Even if I was a child, who didn't think with prudence.
Does that make me not responsible? Then perhaps it wasn't my family's responsibility either.

Those sort of thoughts...

Today on Facebook I saw my brother's comment, I don't know if he's serious.
But it brought back all these memories of this period. It feels like it's been ages. I am now a different person. Content, with friends, growing confidence little by little. But somehow those words swept me right back to my twelve year old self.

Drunk with a clandestine love, thankfully I suppose given what was happening in our family at that time, scared. Lonely.
Scared. Lonely. Alone. Lonely.
I can tell no one... because there was no one there with me at that time. Of course I could tell a friend now, but it's just not the same. They were not with me (if they were, I might not have walked the path I did...)

I guess, however, when reminiscing truly, I can always go back to my first fan fiction and cringe at the most terrible writing and constant interference in author notes DURING THE READING.
And I wondered why I didn't get reviews...(I am most amused I got any. I guess..perseverance does do miracles.) I can't even get through it because it's so terrible.

...
For a second there I loved a corpse.


EDIT: Why do I feel like it's necessary to defend and clarify myself...even to myself?
There is a power to words, I think...?
Back to point: it was only for a moment. I am back to myself now. Cringing at everything.

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