When I did online shopping the other day, I found out that my credit card had been cancelled.
It
was what I feared most in this world and had dreaded for my entire
adult life. Now, it has happened. The credit card was to use money that
my grandfather had left for me, which was the biggest resource of my
income. It was stopped by my parents.
Being entitled to inherit the
family’s money was the root cause why my mother had hated me since I was
born. My parents continued to harass and attack me after I left home in
order to make me give up the money. And they have finally succeeded to
do what they had wanted for such a long time. Closing the account.
On
that night, I couldn’t sleep until morning because of flaring anger. I
thought of leaving a note to my partner, jumping on the bullet train to
move 450 miles to my parents’ apartment, bursting into there with a
knife, stubbing and killing them, and then turning myself in to go to
the prison. That would settle my anger and I would no longer have to
worry about money for the rest of my life.
I had repressed that urge
so hard all night long and managed to make it to the breakfast table. My
partner suggested that I should call my parents to clear the situation.
I didn’t like the idea. There was no point of talking to them since I
had known their intention so well. Besides, if I had called them, my
anger would have erupted and I would have spewed out cursed words along
with fierce threats. And as my sister has been doing, I would have kept
yelling, “Go to hell! Die right now!”
I called them after all not to
curse them though, but to squeeze some money from them anyhow. I had
turned into a devil all the same. I was holding my phone with a hand
that was trembling with anger. My mother answered.
She sounded weak
and old as if a snake’s slough or a mere shadow had been talking. The
minute I heard that voice, my about-to-explode anger subsided for some
reason. Then oddly, I felt pity for her and even fond of her. I also
exchanged greetings and made small talk with my father. We didn’t bring
up even a single word about money. Instead, we talked rather friendly
and considerately as if a source of hatred ran out. And I hung up by
saying “Good-bye,” that was really meant this time.
We had had
hostile relations with each other and quarreled for decades. The only
connection between us had been my grandfather’s money. Now that it was
cut, our ties disappeared likewise. Only what my parents had done to me
remained. After all those years, they never loved me to the end. I had
longed to be loved by them, which was never realized. Our relationship
had been long ruined and now our problems that were the only things we
had shared were gone too. Everything was over and we have become
strangers.
I felt lonely because I would never see them again. On the
other hand, I was released from unquenchable anger that had dwelt in me
for an eternity. Then I couldn’t sleep that night again from anxiety
about how to pay living expenses from now on.
Next day my partner and
I went to Coco’s for which we had mobile coupons. The coupons had been
received for free desserts on our birthdays that were long passed. As
they had remained unused, we ordered a free dessert for each of us
there.
A big plate was placed before each of us, on which were a
small piece of chocolate cake, small macaroons and ice cream. It was a
small portion for the huge plate so that the most part of the plate was
empty as if the blank space had been a main purpose of it. On the blank
space, there was a message written by big letters of stenciled chocolate
powder, which said, ‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY’. The server said in a loud voice
that could be heard throughout the restaurant, “Congratulations! Happy
Birthday!” and left our table. My partner and I stared fixedly at the
letters on the big plate and then at each other.
I had surely thought
my life was finished, but I could be reborn into a new life in a way.
That thought gave me a little relief. And a sense of freedom as well.
Showing posts with label prison. Show all posts
Showing posts with label prison. Show all posts
Monday, August 23, 2021
Closure and Rebirth hr645
Friday, December 6, 2019
The Positive Generated by the Negative hr625
When I was in kindergarten, I was always pushed away and ignored by my fellow kindergartners.
I played the bells wearing a headpiece of a dove on stage alongside other kindergartners at an annual presentation before the parents. I was told to stand at the edge of the stage close to the wings. As we were playing, the kids next to me continued to thrust me into the wings. I tried to fight the way back onto the stage as it had looked more and more that I didn’t participate the performance. No matter how hard I tried, they kept pushing me aside and the best I could do was to poke half of my face out of the wings.
It was the time of an Apollo-frenzy and the kindergarten held an exhibit of miniature rockets made by the children for the parents. The rockets were to be made out of empty soft drink bottles. Since the plan of the exhibit was introduced, I had diligently collected empty bottles. By the time the miniature rocket began to be built, I collected and brought the highest number of bottles to the class. But once we started making, the kids wouldn’t use my bottles. Although all of us brought similar bottles in the same shape and size, they were carefully excluding the ones I brought as their materials. Every time I glued one of mine to the rocket, some kid removed it. I glued, they removed. The rocket had gotten bigger only with other kids’ bottles as we repeated the glue-remove maneuver persistently. Finally other kids’ patience to keep removing my bottle ran out and they started throwing it away out of the window. I went outside to pick it up and as soon as I came back, another bottle of mine was thrown out. Now a new routine had been established. They threw out, I picked in. The rocket completed without one single bottle of mine. I brought home all the bottles intact and told my parents that those were surplus. My mother came to the exhibit and saw the rocket that I didn’t participate to make, but with my name among the builder’s list.
Come to think of it, those kindergarten days precisely represent my whole life. As a singer-songwriter, I have been pushed away and ignored in music circles. Nobody has noticed nor recognized me as if I were an invisible person. I had dreamed that my songs would be in the charts and I would become a celebrity. I would be on ‘Tonight Show’ as a guest and talk with the host. I would be loved by people and be on the top of the world. I had prepared for that day for a long time. I had been dieting and exercising. I had been nice to people and talking to them to improve social skills. I had fervently craved fame. Meanwhile though, the songs that I completed with all my effort and strength by sacrificing everything else had never been appreciated. I think it’s time to accept the reality. It’s about time to abandon confidence and expectation for this world and to admit that I had overestimated the world.
Since the end of the last year, strange things have happened to me as if some messages had been being sent. I had vaguely received and interpreted them. Then I came across one movie that defined the message and made me wide awake. I hadn’t been able to shake off the idea that I had been locked up in a prison or an institution since I was little. And I was right. I realized this world’s true self. Now I have, at long last, found the way to get out of it.
I can’t wake up in the morning. I can’t get along with others. I can’t do what I don’t like. I can’t notice transparent glass so that I bang into it. I can’t get a driver’s license. I can’t perceive people’s feelings. But everything is all right from now on. I am happy to be pushed away from the world because I am no longer part of it. By willingly stopping being part of it, I got out of this world and attained freedom. It’s so funny I had desperately tried all my life to belong to this society that I had known is crazy since my childhood. I will live as myself without conforming to the craziness. I will not care about this society’s value now that I’m out of it. Instead, I evaluate solely by my own value. I judge what is good. I decide what is successful. I’ve never felt free this much in my entire life. All of a sudden, everything reversed and people look locked up while I was released. Outside, my life itself is art because it exists to create music. My songs are supreme pieces and that means I’m totally successful. I’ve become a true artist standing center stage in a spotlight.
I played the bells wearing a headpiece of a dove on stage alongside other kindergartners at an annual presentation before the parents. I was told to stand at the edge of the stage close to the wings. As we were playing, the kids next to me continued to thrust me into the wings. I tried to fight the way back onto the stage as it had looked more and more that I didn’t participate the performance. No matter how hard I tried, they kept pushing me aside and the best I could do was to poke half of my face out of the wings.
It was the time of an Apollo-frenzy and the kindergarten held an exhibit of miniature rockets made by the children for the parents. The rockets were to be made out of empty soft drink bottles. Since the plan of the exhibit was introduced, I had diligently collected empty bottles. By the time the miniature rocket began to be built, I collected and brought the highest number of bottles to the class. But once we started making, the kids wouldn’t use my bottles. Although all of us brought similar bottles in the same shape and size, they were carefully excluding the ones I brought as their materials. Every time I glued one of mine to the rocket, some kid removed it. I glued, they removed. The rocket had gotten bigger only with other kids’ bottles as we repeated the glue-remove maneuver persistently. Finally other kids’ patience to keep removing my bottle ran out and they started throwing it away out of the window. I went outside to pick it up and as soon as I came back, another bottle of mine was thrown out. Now a new routine had been established. They threw out, I picked in. The rocket completed without one single bottle of mine. I brought home all the bottles intact and told my parents that those were surplus. My mother came to the exhibit and saw the rocket that I didn’t participate to make, but with my name among the builder’s list.
Come to think of it, those kindergarten days precisely represent my whole life. As a singer-songwriter, I have been pushed away and ignored in music circles. Nobody has noticed nor recognized me as if I were an invisible person. I had dreamed that my songs would be in the charts and I would become a celebrity. I would be on ‘Tonight Show’ as a guest and talk with the host. I would be loved by people and be on the top of the world. I had prepared for that day for a long time. I had been dieting and exercising. I had been nice to people and talking to them to improve social skills. I had fervently craved fame. Meanwhile though, the songs that I completed with all my effort and strength by sacrificing everything else had never been appreciated. I think it’s time to accept the reality. It’s about time to abandon confidence and expectation for this world and to admit that I had overestimated the world.
Since the end of the last year, strange things have happened to me as if some messages had been being sent. I had vaguely received and interpreted them. Then I came across one movie that defined the message and made me wide awake. I hadn’t been able to shake off the idea that I had been locked up in a prison or an institution since I was little. And I was right. I realized this world’s true self. Now I have, at long last, found the way to get out of it.
I can’t wake up in the morning. I can’t get along with others. I can’t do what I don’t like. I can’t notice transparent glass so that I bang into it. I can’t get a driver’s license. I can’t perceive people’s feelings. But everything is all right from now on. I am happy to be pushed away from the world because I am no longer part of it. By willingly stopping being part of it, I got out of this world and attained freedom. It’s so funny I had desperately tried all my life to belong to this society that I had known is crazy since my childhood. I will live as myself without conforming to the craziness. I will not care about this society’s value now that I’m out of it. Instead, I evaluate solely by my own value. I judge what is good. I decide what is successful. I’ve never felt free this much in my entire life. All of a sudden, everything reversed and people look locked up while I was released. Outside, my life itself is art because it exists to create music. My songs are supreme pieces and that means I’m totally successful. I’ve become a true artist standing center stage in a spotlight.
Labels:
celebrity,
crazy,
dieting,
exercising,
fame,
happy,
institution,
Japan,
Japanese,
kindergarten,
Life,
Music,
Negative,
Positive,
prison,
social skills,
society,
song,
Tonight show
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