Remembering scribbles of my first months in Sendai
Right after I came home I said to myself.
Who helped you the most? I couldn't answer at once. I recalled instead the scribbles I wrote in the first few months since I began to live in Sendai.
I moved Sendai from Sapporo after I got the master's degree but I couldn't find a place to work. In Sapporo, I have several friends from the church I went to then and learned and spoke English a lot, talking a lot about Bible. After moving to Sendai, being very shy, I could find hardly anyone to talk to except for my parents and the advisers of support center for the developmentally disabled.
I wrote lots, lots of things because I didn't have hardly anyone then, at the age of 22, no I mean the first several months since I began to live in Sendai. It was when I was 30 years old.
I wrote a lot. Some didn't make sense. Some was neither Japanese nor English, not a language that make sense to anyone. The stress and energy from loneliness made me write a lot. Some barely made sense, most written in Japanese, and some written in English. Sometimes I didn't even care that I was beginning to stop making sense. Looking back on then, perhaps I was thinking that by being released from the capability and obligation to make sense, I might have been able to be released from that struggle I was in then. Perhaps this might mean the end of my life. I haven't been released from these things, but I've begun to feel lighter, thinking that this may be a sign that I live now.
Sometimes I wrote a lot of circles, triangles, and squares. Sometimes I drew many, many lines to draw a grid. These geometrical (but usually warped) shapes temporarily help me forget the pain of reality, the pain I feel after I talk to someone, wondering if I had said something bad, and the pain I feel while I was sitting still.
I now wonder where these scribbles are. If I could find this now, I would scan it and type some of those scribbles, some of which made sense and show how I felt then. These would be much more vivid than the composition I would write based on a little bit vague memory.
Who helped you the most? I couldn't answer at once. I recalled instead the scribbles I wrote in the first few months since I began to live in Sendai.
I moved Sendai from Sapporo after I got the master's degree but I couldn't find a place to work. In Sapporo, I have several friends from the church I went to then and learned and spoke English a lot, talking a lot about Bible. After moving to Sendai, being very shy, I could find hardly anyone to talk to except for my parents and the advisers of support center for the developmentally disabled.
I wrote lots, lots of things because I didn't have hardly anyone then, at the age of 22, no I mean the first several months since I began to live in Sendai. It was when I was 30 years old.
I wrote a lot. Some didn't make sense. Some was neither Japanese nor English, not a language that make sense to anyone. The stress and energy from loneliness made me write a lot. Some barely made sense, most written in Japanese, and some written in English. Sometimes I didn't even care that I was beginning to stop making sense. Looking back on then, perhaps I was thinking that by being released from the capability and obligation to make sense, I might have been able to be released from that struggle I was in then. Perhaps this might mean the end of my life. I haven't been released from these things, but I've begun to feel lighter, thinking that this may be a sign that I live now.
Sometimes I wrote a lot of circles, triangles, and squares. Sometimes I drew many, many lines to draw a grid. These geometrical (but usually warped) shapes temporarily help me forget the pain of reality, the pain I feel after I talk to someone, wondering if I had said something bad, and the pain I feel while I was sitting still.
I now wonder where these scribbles are. If I could find this now, I would scan it and type some of those scribbles, some of which made sense and show how I felt then. These would be much more vivid than the composition I would write based on a little bit vague memory.
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