Hi everybody! Sorry for not updating this story for so long. I wrote this
chapter awhile back but it was so bad that it made me depressed and I just
couldn't write anything anymore. Grr. I am still extremely disappointed
with this chapter and have taken so much pointless stuff out of it and
there is still more pointless stuff in it. This never would have happened
if I hadn't tried to write a longer chapter. Anyways, this is basically a
chapter dedicated to "The Good Times are Killing Me" ummm. this chapter is
basically a mindless amount of nothing and I really hate it but I need to
post it to continue on with the story. Sorry for the delay and I hope you
find this chapter alittle better then I do.
******************
Chapter Five -Music
Did you ever wonder what is music? Who invented it and what for and all that? And why hearing a certain song can make a whole time rise up and stick in your brain?
Chapter Five -Music
My favorite song was always playing that summer. You know, it is odd but now that I haven't heard it in such a long while, I have forgotten the name of that song and even how the beat and lyrics went. All I know is that it was my favorite song during that summer.
It was everyone's favorite song back then and the radio was playing it all the time - on the good days and. the bad.
It's the song I HATE now. And whenever the radio creeps that song into its play list and it begin to play, I recognize it immediately and all the memories of that summer collide into my head and two tears fall from my eyes. Two tears for two people I lost during two horrible days during that summer.
And even though I hate it and even though it makes me cry, there are still good times that go along with that song. Good times from back when things where normal and happy and I didn't even realize it.
~*~
There was a lot of music on my street. The best time to hear it was at nighttime, when the people would come out after dinner onto their sidewalks or porch, turn their radios up and just listen and sing along with the tunes.
Many times I would just go outside after dinner and just sit there, watching the other families listen to the radios. The parents would always be sitting on a lawn chair or even a rocking chair, rocking back and forth as they sang along with their favorite tunes. The kids would always be sitting on the steps, watching their parents and talking to each other. Sometimes even the kids would be inspired by the music to get up and do their childish clumsy little unsure dances along with the songs. It was so cute to watch them.
On certain nights my family would come outside and sit with me. Shingo would sit right next to me on the steps, and even on a few cases fell asleep in my lap while my family listened to the radio. My mother would sing along with all the songs she grew up listening too. Her voice was so beautiful. At one time, before she married my father, she was a singer on some stage but dad made her stop when they got married, something about not wanting to cause attraction.
My father would just sit there on his chair with his eyes half-closed listening to the radio. Even once Hiiro joined us and sat down next to me and Shingo. He just listened along with the rest of my family as we stared out in to the street-lamp filled street and gazed up into the darkness of the sky.
The world seemed just perfect when I sat out there listening. Everyone seemed so happy and no one cared about the future or even the next day. The light summer breeze would always swoosh by, giving everyone some relief from the hot summer nights. And the moon always shining so brightly and sometimes, on very clear nights, when the pollution wasn't so bad, a few shining stars could be seen in the dark sky. I loved those nights the most. I loved seeing the stars and moon and the dark sky. I would find myself on those nights, just wishing that life would never change. That I could just stay on those steps forever in those perfect nights.
Eventually though my father would get up and my mother would tell me and Shingo that it was time to go to sleep. We would leave the perfect setting and climb into our beds, worrying about the future and what the next day had in store for us. Yet knowing, that no matter how hard the next day was, the next night we could always go back outside and listen to our radios.
But even that wasn't true.
One day, I along with my now sadden family, just stopped going out at nighttime. Listening to the radio at nighttime just gave us too much free time to think. Too many memories to make made us cry and too many things to make us worry. Those perfect moments where no longer perfect. Instead they were tainted with the memories of once being perfect.
~*~
Some afternoons, when there was nothing better to do on my street I would grab my father's radio and take it outside with me. I would go to the farther end of the street so I could be alone and tune the radio into my favorite station. I would sit their listening and waiting for the songs I liked. When they did I would just allow myself to be absorbed into the music and forget about the rest of the world. The radio would then, after a long time of waiting, play my favorite song. I would jump up from my seat on the sidewalk and start dancing around. My body would only allow itself to feel the music. Then the lyrics would start and I would start singing along with that beautiful sounding woman who sang my favorite song. I would completely drown out the rest of the world and it would just be me and my song.
My eyes would stay open but all I could imagine, all I could see was the crowd watching me singing the song, encouraging me to sing more and more. I would do just as they demanded and continue to sing my favorite sang, completely forgetting that I was listening to my radio and dancing outside with probably not a single person watching me.
I loved imagining that I was a famous singer that everyone admired and wanted to be. The little child that was still in me, and always will be, wanted to grow up to be a rich singer.
And then the song would fade off the radio and my imagination of being a singer ended.
And there was Hiiro, his normally straight face was showing a small smile and his normally expressionless eyes portrayed for just one second the reflection of laughter.
I would never be a famous singer.
In fact, it turns out I am a lousy singer. One of the worst you will ever meet.
Why do you think I hide at the end of the street when I sang with the radio?
I wanted to make sure no one else could hear me and laugh at me.
I guess hiding at the end of the street, behind a tree next to an apartment building was not enough. Hiiro found me there and I saw his laughing eyes and though I never told him how much it hurt me to see him laugh at my singing, I think he knew.
He knew because from that day on, I stopped singing along with the radio except when I was locked in my room and was completely positive no one was around. And even then, I sang really softly.
Well, to be truthfully, I did start singing in public again at the beginning of freshman year of high school. By then, I didn't care how bad I sang or what anyone thought, as long as I was having fun.
Of course, Hiiro never knew I started singing again and he probably never will.
I wonder if he was ever even mad at himself for catching me singing and making me stop.
Probably not because no one realizes when they hurt a growing child's heart and the child never expresses the that pain, until years later when they realize they need to get over it and move on with their life. Until years later a person with a hurt heart will start talking about that pain and even then the pain doesn't go away.
~*~
Pain, a growing child's life is filled with more pain then a parent wishes to believe and remember. Everything that has gone wrong will pain a child. Even the small things can leave great damage. Even the big things that a child may not even understand the meaning of at the time can come back years later and haunt the child when they are all grown-up.
I know that I am probably making to big thing out of the painful issue of me stopping singing because of one boy laughing at my voice. I know I am. But it still hurts that he did. The pain just wouldn't go away. And the fact that this pain came from singing my favorite song was probably the first reason I started hating it.
Yet, even though, it was the first reason that I started hating it. I still loved that song at the time. It wasn't till I was a teenager that I realized how much pain that song brought me over just the issue of Hiiro laughing.
But even though this song pains me over the laughter and two other more sorrowful reasons, there was one day it gave me a great memory.
~*~
It was an afternoon before Hiiro caught me singing that I had brought my family radio outside. Shingo and his friends wanted to listen to it.
We sat their listening and listening and listening and listening and then finally my favorite song came on. Shingo jumped up and asked me if I wanted to dance; he knew I loved the song.
He put his two feet on mine and I showed him the waltz Dad taught me. We twirled around as his foot dug deeper and deeper into mines. Boy did it hurt. Finally I couldn't stand it anymore that I let go of him. Unluckily, we were twirling to fast. And he fall backwards and I fall forwards.
We both landed on our butts and I being, the crybaby I was, broke into tears, while Shingo being as young as he was followed.
We looked at each others stained filled faces and then, for no reason at all besides the others funny looking faces, broke into laughter.
The laughter must have lasted five minutes with the whole time everyone on our street just staring at us.
It was a moment I can never forget. The laughter was so happy, so innocent, and so perfect. And the moment never would have happened with out that song.
Of course the moment afterwards with Hiiro coming out because of all the laughter and picking both me and Shingo up and then caring us into the apartment building looking at us as if we were crazy and then causing my brother and I to laugh even more because of his weird, unusually look is also thanks to that song.
~*~ It truly is amazing how much one song can affect you. How it can bring back so many memories. How it can be both a good and bad song. How it can just. be.
************* The last part has absolutely nothing to do with the story. In fact most of this chapter doesn't. grrr. I am sorry for it being so bad. Just think of it as a person telling a story getting caught up in one part of it and telling little side stories and what they felt about it, because a) they just can't tell stories and get caught up with other things or b) they are trying to slide around the bigger picture and not continue on to parts they don't want to talk about yet. This chapter is a mix of both of them. Plus I found some of it fun to write because it became a vent. Once again, sorry for not updating in sooo long. Sorry.
******************
Chapter Five -Music
Did you ever wonder what is music? Who invented it and what for and all that? And why hearing a certain song can make a whole time rise up and stick in your brain?
Chapter Five -Music
My favorite song was always playing that summer. You know, it is odd but now that I haven't heard it in such a long while, I have forgotten the name of that song and even how the beat and lyrics went. All I know is that it was my favorite song during that summer.
It was everyone's favorite song back then and the radio was playing it all the time - on the good days and. the bad.
It's the song I HATE now. And whenever the radio creeps that song into its play list and it begin to play, I recognize it immediately and all the memories of that summer collide into my head and two tears fall from my eyes. Two tears for two people I lost during two horrible days during that summer.
And even though I hate it and even though it makes me cry, there are still good times that go along with that song. Good times from back when things where normal and happy and I didn't even realize it.
~*~
There was a lot of music on my street. The best time to hear it was at nighttime, when the people would come out after dinner onto their sidewalks or porch, turn their radios up and just listen and sing along with the tunes.
Many times I would just go outside after dinner and just sit there, watching the other families listen to the radios. The parents would always be sitting on a lawn chair or even a rocking chair, rocking back and forth as they sang along with their favorite tunes. The kids would always be sitting on the steps, watching their parents and talking to each other. Sometimes even the kids would be inspired by the music to get up and do their childish clumsy little unsure dances along with the songs. It was so cute to watch them.
On certain nights my family would come outside and sit with me. Shingo would sit right next to me on the steps, and even on a few cases fell asleep in my lap while my family listened to the radio. My mother would sing along with all the songs she grew up listening too. Her voice was so beautiful. At one time, before she married my father, she was a singer on some stage but dad made her stop when they got married, something about not wanting to cause attraction.
My father would just sit there on his chair with his eyes half-closed listening to the radio. Even once Hiiro joined us and sat down next to me and Shingo. He just listened along with the rest of my family as we stared out in to the street-lamp filled street and gazed up into the darkness of the sky.
The world seemed just perfect when I sat out there listening. Everyone seemed so happy and no one cared about the future or even the next day. The light summer breeze would always swoosh by, giving everyone some relief from the hot summer nights. And the moon always shining so brightly and sometimes, on very clear nights, when the pollution wasn't so bad, a few shining stars could be seen in the dark sky. I loved those nights the most. I loved seeing the stars and moon and the dark sky. I would find myself on those nights, just wishing that life would never change. That I could just stay on those steps forever in those perfect nights.
Eventually though my father would get up and my mother would tell me and Shingo that it was time to go to sleep. We would leave the perfect setting and climb into our beds, worrying about the future and what the next day had in store for us. Yet knowing, that no matter how hard the next day was, the next night we could always go back outside and listen to our radios.
But even that wasn't true.
One day, I along with my now sadden family, just stopped going out at nighttime. Listening to the radio at nighttime just gave us too much free time to think. Too many memories to make made us cry and too many things to make us worry. Those perfect moments where no longer perfect. Instead they were tainted with the memories of once being perfect.
~*~
Some afternoons, when there was nothing better to do on my street I would grab my father's radio and take it outside with me. I would go to the farther end of the street so I could be alone and tune the radio into my favorite station. I would sit their listening and waiting for the songs I liked. When they did I would just allow myself to be absorbed into the music and forget about the rest of the world. The radio would then, after a long time of waiting, play my favorite song. I would jump up from my seat on the sidewalk and start dancing around. My body would only allow itself to feel the music. Then the lyrics would start and I would start singing along with that beautiful sounding woman who sang my favorite song. I would completely drown out the rest of the world and it would just be me and my song.
My eyes would stay open but all I could imagine, all I could see was the crowd watching me singing the song, encouraging me to sing more and more. I would do just as they demanded and continue to sing my favorite sang, completely forgetting that I was listening to my radio and dancing outside with probably not a single person watching me.
I loved imagining that I was a famous singer that everyone admired and wanted to be. The little child that was still in me, and always will be, wanted to grow up to be a rich singer.
And then the song would fade off the radio and my imagination of being a singer ended.
And there was Hiiro, his normally straight face was showing a small smile and his normally expressionless eyes portrayed for just one second the reflection of laughter.
I would never be a famous singer.
In fact, it turns out I am a lousy singer. One of the worst you will ever meet.
Why do you think I hide at the end of the street when I sang with the radio?
I wanted to make sure no one else could hear me and laugh at me.
I guess hiding at the end of the street, behind a tree next to an apartment building was not enough. Hiiro found me there and I saw his laughing eyes and though I never told him how much it hurt me to see him laugh at my singing, I think he knew.
He knew because from that day on, I stopped singing along with the radio except when I was locked in my room and was completely positive no one was around. And even then, I sang really softly.
Well, to be truthfully, I did start singing in public again at the beginning of freshman year of high school. By then, I didn't care how bad I sang or what anyone thought, as long as I was having fun.
Of course, Hiiro never knew I started singing again and he probably never will.
I wonder if he was ever even mad at himself for catching me singing and making me stop.
Probably not because no one realizes when they hurt a growing child's heart and the child never expresses the that pain, until years later when they realize they need to get over it and move on with their life. Until years later a person with a hurt heart will start talking about that pain and even then the pain doesn't go away.
~*~
Pain, a growing child's life is filled with more pain then a parent wishes to believe and remember. Everything that has gone wrong will pain a child. Even the small things can leave great damage. Even the big things that a child may not even understand the meaning of at the time can come back years later and haunt the child when they are all grown-up.
I know that I am probably making to big thing out of the painful issue of me stopping singing because of one boy laughing at my voice. I know I am. But it still hurts that he did. The pain just wouldn't go away. And the fact that this pain came from singing my favorite song was probably the first reason I started hating it.
Yet, even though, it was the first reason that I started hating it. I still loved that song at the time. It wasn't till I was a teenager that I realized how much pain that song brought me over just the issue of Hiiro laughing.
But even though this song pains me over the laughter and two other more sorrowful reasons, there was one day it gave me a great memory.
~*~
It was an afternoon before Hiiro caught me singing that I had brought my family radio outside. Shingo and his friends wanted to listen to it.
We sat their listening and listening and listening and listening and then finally my favorite song came on. Shingo jumped up and asked me if I wanted to dance; he knew I loved the song.
He put his two feet on mine and I showed him the waltz Dad taught me. We twirled around as his foot dug deeper and deeper into mines. Boy did it hurt. Finally I couldn't stand it anymore that I let go of him. Unluckily, we were twirling to fast. And he fall backwards and I fall forwards.
We both landed on our butts and I being, the crybaby I was, broke into tears, while Shingo being as young as he was followed.
We looked at each others stained filled faces and then, for no reason at all besides the others funny looking faces, broke into laughter.
The laughter must have lasted five minutes with the whole time everyone on our street just staring at us.
It was a moment I can never forget. The laughter was so happy, so innocent, and so perfect. And the moment never would have happened with out that song.
Of course the moment afterwards with Hiiro coming out because of all the laughter and picking both me and Shingo up and then caring us into the apartment building looking at us as if we were crazy and then causing my brother and I to laugh even more because of his weird, unusually look is also thanks to that song.
~*~ It truly is amazing how much one song can affect you. How it can bring back so many memories. How it can be both a good and bad song. How it can just. be.
************* The last part has absolutely nothing to do with the story. In fact most of this chapter doesn't. grrr. I am sorry for it being so bad. Just think of it as a person telling a story getting caught up in one part of it and telling little side stories and what they felt about it, because a) they just can't tell stories and get caught up with other things or b) they are trying to slide around the bigger picture and not continue on to parts they don't want to talk about yet. This chapter is a mix of both of them. Plus I found some of it fun to write because it became a vent. Once again, sorry for not updating in sooo long. Sorry.
