*DAI SANSHOO: "HACHI NO TSUTSUITA YOU"
"IMA WA DOKO OWARI DA!!! KORE DEMO KURA~E!!!! SHINRYOKU HO~~U!!!"
"ATARUMONOKA!!"
"E? NANTO!? KARE WA DOKO!?"
"HEHEHE~N DA!! OSOIZO!!! AMAI, AMAI!!!"
"TCH!! KONCHIKSHO KONO YAROU!!!"
"FU!! BOKU NO SAI~KYOU ICHIBAN HI~RO DAZE!!! MAKENAIDE DAKARA!!! SASERUKA!!! HI~~SATSU!!! AO~RYU KE~~~NNN!!!"
"DOWA!! NANTE KOITSU POWA WA? YARARETA!!!"
DODO~~~N!!!
"GYAHAHAHAHA!!! WAKUWAKUMAN NO SHOUICHII!!! GYAHAHAHAHA!!!"
I'm home.
I got to go back eventually, whether I like it or not.
I live in a trashy looking little 3-room flat conveniently located close to the Nanbu line. There's no better way to go to and fro then from there.
From there, it's easy to go to the movies, easy to go shopping. What use it is it to me though?
Home is where the heart is, they say... If my heart were left here, the big rat that's been skulking around my tiny room would've eaten it already.
Now you may be wondering why there was some inane superhero talk in the background. Well, believe it or not, this is my usual study routine.
I go in my room, organize my homework in the desk, go back to the living area, turn on the T.V., listen to, but not watch, the kiddy action show that's playing while I solve migraine-inducing Trigonometry problems in advance.
It's the best kind of program to approximate a heated argument. Only this one includes laser blasts, dissonant sound effects, and explosives. The noisier it is, the better.
Robots fighting in space are the loudest yet. It's exceedingly better than the former, but too bad that program is only on once a week.
What can I say? I feel comfortable studying while there's pandemonium happening in the environment. I'm sorta used to it. Aren't you?
I finish my work a lot faster, and a lot better that way.
Without my mom and step dad arguing in the background, things are just... quiet.
Perhaps maybe it's a little TOO quiet without them. So sometimes I turn the volume up a notch to meet the desired effect.
That's better. Now on to Classical Japanese Literature...
"Polish your forearms while you're young, and your bright future is assured."
It means to improve your skills. "Kotowazas" sound corny, but it brings up good advice from time to time.
Noise. It's anything that makes an unpleasant sound at an incessant rate. Any sane person would want peace and quiet while studying.
But you know as well as I that I am far from being sane, much less normal.
In this neighborhood, you can't get all fussy about peace and quiet. Everyone seems to have something to curse about these days, what with the economic depression and all.
I kid you not. Do the words "Hetakuso", "Bakero", "Chikshou", and "Baka yarou" mean anything to you? Thought so.
"If noise rattles you easily while you're studying, how will you manage when you're now part of the workforce, where everything is hectic, and oftentimes REALLY noisy?"
I often asked myself that question when the racket was still unbearable for me back then.
I could not afford to act like a Prima Donna if I wanted to get into Hokuei with this noise.
I just had to wear a sheepish grin and bear it full brunt. As time passed, it became more of a necessity than an annoyance.
"I can't study like this..."
"Well then, go to the library."
"You're kidding, right?"
In case you didn't notice, I was talking to myself. At least I listen to what I have to say.
I can't study in quiet places anymore. I've been cursed with an artificial talent to memorize, solve, define, comprehend, and read mentally taxing stuff under decibel-destroying circumstances, and the inability to do so in a serene environment.
Noise has become my brain food. It's my drug.
Will there be any use for that in the bigger world? Hah. You have no idea.
I'm almost finished. Most of the work required for next day's lesson is finished. I'm ready for the load ahead.
Now it's time to mope about my weakness for a while before I return to my studies.
I pick up an album. Childhood memories? Nope. I burned all of my childhood photos in the incinerator in the school. Not that mom cared, anyway.
It was my treasure. This little album is a compilation of pictures and stuff about Arima taken from the school paper back in Junior High.
Take this away from me, and I will hunt you down and kill you. I mean it.
This was the only thing keeping me from going really crazy. Clinging to the hope that someday, this boy would care about me, even as just a friend. If it could be so much more than that, then that's a fringe benefit that's most welcome.
If he weren't so nice, anyone would do just fine. But everyone hates me, so he's my only hope. I was only obsessing over him because he's the only one who doesn't see me as a freak.
I repeat: THE ONLY ONE.
But heck, both my feet are on the ground. My dream is tantamount to grasping a cloud.
But I can dream, can't I? Though if I don't act fast enough, it will stay that way forever.
Aside from my leaky eyes, there's another part of me that's stopping me from getting this emotional ordeal over with.
It's in my gut. The mere thought of going near him and confessing stuff drove me to the brink of nausea. It's not because the thought is disgusting; my weak stomach always acts up when I get too excited sometimes.
That's a rarity in my case.
That's yet another sterling example of lack of control.
Speaking of guts, I'm getting hungry. Time to pop another T.V. dinner in the microwave.
It was already past 3 A.M.
I don't need to pull an all-nighter just yet.
And yes, I do know how to cook, but there was nothing in the fridge to whip up anything edible anyway. We're also out of cooking oil. Ha ha.
Thank goodness that mom gets a lot of late shifts nowadays. The last thing I need right now is a thick-faced woman who acts as if I wasn't there. I only see her in the morning.
That stranger isn't coming home either. What a relief.
I was alone in the house.
I was alone with my thoughts, with my not-so far-fetched dream.
My dream was all about being able to shed my inherent flaws and do what I wanted to do.
I washed my face; I set the futon down and retired for the night. I left the dishes unwashed. I thought: "Heck, let the Ice Queen do the dishes... She owes me that much."
I closed my eyes and that was it.
Morning will come soon enough. Tomorrow will be another day to waste kicking myself for my inadequacies.
Or perhaps I might be able to do it right this time?
Who knows?
For now, I don't care. I'm too tired.
Oyasumi nasai...
Lights out.
END OF CHAPTER 3
"IMA WA DOKO OWARI DA!!! KORE DEMO KURA~E!!!! SHINRYOKU HO~~U!!!"
"ATARUMONOKA!!"
"E? NANTO!? KARE WA DOKO!?"
"HEHEHE~N DA!! OSOIZO!!! AMAI, AMAI!!!"
"TCH!! KONCHIKSHO KONO YAROU!!!"
"FU!! BOKU NO SAI~KYOU ICHIBAN HI~RO DAZE!!! MAKENAIDE DAKARA!!! SASERUKA!!! HI~~SATSU!!! AO~RYU KE~~~NNN!!!"
"DOWA!! NANTE KOITSU POWA WA? YARARETA!!!"
DODO~~~N!!!
"GYAHAHAHAHA!!! WAKUWAKUMAN NO SHOUICHII!!! GYAHAHAHAHA!!!"
I'm home.
I got to go back eventually, whether I like it or not.
I live in a trashy looking little 3-room flat conveniently located close to the Nanbu line. There's no better way to go to and fro then from there.
From there, it's easy to go to the movies, easy to go shopping. What use it is it to me though?
Home is where the heart is, they say... If my heart were left here, the big rat that's been skulking around my tiny room would've eaten it already.
Now you may be wondering why there was some inane superhero talk in the background. Well, believe it or not, this is my usual study routine.
I go in my room, organize my homework in the desk, go back to the living area, turn on the T.V., listen to, but not watch, the kiddy action show that's playing while I solve migraine-inducing Trigonometry problems in advance.
It's the best kind of program to approximate a heated argument. Only this one includes laser blasts, dissonant sound effects, and explosives. The noisier it is, the better.
Robots fighting in space are the loudest yet. It's exceedingly better than the former, but too bad that program is only on once a week.
What can I say? I feel comfortable studying while there's pandemonium happening in the environment. I'm sorta used to it. Aren't you?
I finish my work a lot faster, and a lot better that way.
Without my mom and step dad arguing in the background, things are just... quiet.
Perhaps maybe it's a little TOO quiet without them. So sometimes I turn the volume up a notch to meet the desired effect.
That's better. Now on to Classical Japanese Literature...
"Polish your forearms while you're young, and your bright future is assured."
It means to improve your skills. "Kotowazas" sound corny, but it brings up good advice from time to time.
Noise. It's anything that makes an unpleasant sound at an incessant rate. Any sane person would want peace and quiet while studying.
But you know as well as I that I am far from being sane, much less normal.
In this neighborhood, you can't get all fussy about peace and quiet. Everyone seems to have something to curse about these days, what with the economic depression and all.
I kid you not. Do the words "Hetakuso", "Bakero", "Chikshou", and "Baka yarou" mean anything to you? Thought so.
"If noise rattles you easily while you're studying, how will you manage when you're now part of the workforce, where everything is hectic, and oftentimes REALLY noisy?"
I often asked myself that question when the racket was still unbearable for me back then.
I could not afford to act like a Prima Donna if I wanted to get into Hokuei with this noise.
I just had to wear a sheepish grin and bear it full brunt. As time passed, it became more of a necessity than an annoyance.
"I can't study like this..."
"Well then, go to the library."
"You're kidding, right?"
In case you didn't notice, I was talking to myself. At least I listen to what I have to say.
I can't study in quiet places anymore. I've been cursed with an artificial talent to memorize, solve, define, comprehend, and read mentally taxing stuff under decibel-destroying circumstances, and the inability to do so in a serene environment.
Noise has become my brain food. It's my drug.
Will there be any use for that in the bigger world? Hah. You have no idea.
I'm almost finished. Most of the work required for next day's lesson is finished. I'm ready for the load ahead.
Now it's time to mope about my weakness for a while before I return to my studies.
I pick up an album. Childhood memories? Nope. I burned all of my childhood photos in the incinerator in the school. Not that mom cared, anyway.
It was my treasure. This little album is a compilation of pictures and stuff about Arima taken from the school paper back in Junior High.
Take this away from me, and I will hunt you down and kill you. I mean it.
This was the only thing keeping me from going really crazy. Clinging to the hope that someday, this boy would care about me, even as just a friend. If it could be so much more than that, then that's a fringe benefit that's most welcome.
If he weren't so nice, anyone would do just fine. But everyone hates me, so he's my only hope. I was only obsessing over him because he's the only one who doesn't see me as a freak.
I repeat: THE ONLY ONE.
But heck, both my feet are on the ground. My dream is tantamount to grasping a cloud.
But I can dream, can't I? Though if I don't act fast enough, it will stay that way forever.
Aside from my leaky eyes, there's another part of me that's stopping me from getting this emotional ordeal over with.
It's in my gut. The mere thought of going near him and confessing stuff drove me to the brink of nausea. It's not because the thought is disgusting; my weak stomach always acts up when I get too excited sometimes.
That's a rarity in my case.
That's yet another sterling example of lack of control.
Speaking of guts, I'm getting hungry. Time to pop another T.V. dinner in the microwave.
It was already past 3 A.M.
I don't need to pull an all-nighter just yet.
And yes, I do know how to cook, but there was nothing in the fridge to whip up anything edible anyway. We're also out of cooking oil. Ha ha.
Thank goodness that mom gets a lot of late shifts nowadays. The last thing I need right now is a thick-faced woman who acts as if I wasn't there. I only see her in the morning.
That stranger isn't coming home either. What a relief.
I was alone in the house.
I was alone with my thoughts, with my not-so far-fetched dream.
My dream was all about being able to shed my inherent flaws and do what I wanted to do.
I washed my face; I set the futon down and retired for the night. I left the dishes unwashed. I thought: "Heck, let the Ice Queen do the dishes... She owes me that much."
I closed my eyes and that was it.
Morning will come soon enough. Tomorrow will be another day to waste kicking myself for my inadequacies.
Or perhaps I might be able to do it right this time?
Who knows?
For now, I don't care. I'm too tired.
Oyasumi nasai...
Lights out.
END OF CHAPTER 3