Dear Alex

Dear Alex,

Until recently, when I thought about you, I'd get heartsick. I'd get nauseous, feel empty, rock back and forth, sob, all that. So I was glad when we finally got together last Saturday. Even though we didn't end very well, we got a lot of things out and clarified. I did feel shitty that my life has become even more dreary and yours has seemed to get a bit better. (I say "seemed" because by appearances you have withdrawn from almost all of your friends, are slowly estranging your family, have willingly become brainwashed by a girl, and all that. But from what you say about it, the outlook appears positive.) We ended on a bit of a sour note, as I mentioned, but I felt at least a little hope-- of course we can never be best friends again, but the intermittent contact of an acquaintance felt good to have secured, and also to have that line of communication open for possible future enhancement, if we have both healed sufficiently.

However the email I received from you shortly after I got home betrayed to me your true character. Too much of a pussy to say it while we were face to face, you are choosing to cut off all communication with me. What's worse is that this is at least partially motivated not by your own desire to heal but rather by your girlfriend's anxieties. I was aware that you had sunk into her personality a la Ikari Gendo's hand into Ayanami Rei; each reminder was a sharp pang, and this one of course was immensely worse than the others. You are a coward. You say you are healing but so far that has consisted of running away from almost everything that has defined your past, culminating in an actual running-away to where all roads lead, NYC. And Manya's Jewish vagina. And instead of allowing me to heal, you've supplemented my still-suppressed misery with anger and hatred. (LOL ur turning me into a Sith lord lol) The vibes of scornful pity I sensed were really the icing on the cake. Thank you for adding an abandonment complex to all of my other neuroses to which you have been exclusively and exhaustively privy.

I hate you. Of course, I still love you. But I really, really hate you.
-Christina

OH jesus christ this should not go in the same post but i am so incredibly lonely i feel as though i will shatter/melt
oh what happened to my friend he's not there anymore don't you remember the memories you fucker conversations about gigantic asexual angels and bugbots and baking bread and brazilian jiu-jitsu and tigrinya and animats and acm you know it wasn't all drama it wasn't all lonely nights clinging to each other like baby rhesus monkeys remember the time i felt your aura haha why did you go away you horrible person you're a different person such a drastic schism there is no better way to make even the parts of me that i was okay with feel completely worthless i know i hurt you too i know you agonized and even before that you felt rejected and humiliated and you suffered a lot in private which i feel even worse about but please please don't leave me alone i have no one else but great news i'm starting medication aren't you happy you fucker

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Engrish and some thoughts

Ohana

The person can drink sake for the following five reasons. First of all, for the national holiday. Moreover, it fills with the nectar. Finally, for reasons. Next, to heal the dryness of the place. After that, to refuse the future.

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A while ago I was told by a Persian that it's not "Per-SEH-po-lis," it's "PURSE-po-lis." This has made me feel awkward since, because every other person I come across says it in the former way.

~ ~ ~

Added to my list of things that I like: The sound of a silkbound book sliding onto the shelf between other volumes of its series.

cheese crystals

What is up with them? Sometimes when I buy a kinda aged/hard cheese (like those mediocre "Irish" cheese in the fancy cheese section at the big grocery store, where the cheese is always expired), it has very small crunchy crystals in it. First I thought it might have been a symptom of going bad. But unless a food is obviously rotten to the core, I usually either salvage the good parts or, if I'm not sure, eat it anyway. I don't think this approach has ever failed me. Anyway, I really wonder what those crystals are and what causes them. Precipitated salt when the cheese has been sitting around for a while after the aging process? I dunno. Halp please.

My birthday

My birthday was nice. It was just "nice" because it was a little disappointing but it was also full of good moments. Here's something I just realized. I never feel sure that I'm loved when I'm around a group of people. Only when I am with one person with whom I am close does my guard really come down. I never want to organize outings, especially if they are centered around me, because the more people there are, the less sure I get that anyone wants to be there and with me. A huge number of people would mean no one likes me at all. Lunch was a bit of a bust because I wanted Radio Maria's lunch menu. However when we arrived only their tapas section was open. The food was just pretty decent (which was already a little bit disappointing I have to admit) but overpriced because hey, tapas bar and dinner menu. (They switch to dinner menu at 2:30.) The waitress was earnest and eager to please and helpful. It was very nice to be around my brother, who was really great all of today, Moses, Ros, DanHill, Paul, Justin K, Veronica, and Aisha. Then some people departed (Ros and Veronica to capoeira, Justin to something) and the rest of us went home and in a silly foray stopped for chocolate chocolate dip cones at Dairy Queen. Then because the weather was so fine we stayed outside for a bit. Then we went in and watched some funny internet videos, played Guitar Hero, and watched an episode of Monty Python's Flying Circus. I have the DVD set. We had decided to go to the 7:30 show of 300. At the last moment Aisha wanted to go home instead. With some phone maneuvering we arranged to meet Jose and Justin at the theater, and departed. Jose we were able to meet but not Justin. We got some of the last tickets before the show sold out. As a result the theater was crowded and humid and we couldn't get seats together. I sat close to the front with my brother. The movie was real good. Nerd movies do not disappoint (me). I'm going to see it again, probably with some of the people who didn't get a chance to yet. Moses saw one of his ex-girlfriends there and afterwards in the lobby she was explaining why she didn't like it. She had a cutely styled haircut and a twee yellow overcoat and probably ballet flats for all I know, and she was saying that she had been watching French and Russian artsy (her word) films lately so this dialogue was subpar. I wanted to punch her in the throat for being such a transparent meaningless cunt but I did a very good job of conducting a sympathetic engaged conversation. Then Jose left and Moses dropped DanHill near his house so he could hang out with his special lady friend. (I am a little jealous of their relationship. Dan is just as fucked up as me and they seem so genuinely happy together and things are so swell for them. She's really pretty too. I'm nowhere near jealous enough to wish them harm but there is a sharp sadness there.) Then he dropped my brother and me at my apartment, and went to host his radio show. My brother rode his bike home. I went inside and Ros and Aisha came in soon. I was excited to go to Boltini as I had been craving their really excellent martinis. After some fun dallying we left. When we got there there was a long line and possibly cover, and it was crowded. I could tell Ros didn't want to be there, and probably Aisha a little too, so we cut and run. I was pretty sad about this but soon I was fine. Then we went to Schnuck's and got a thing of Breyer's mint chocolate chip. We took it back to the apartment and ate it together and watched Monty Python. Then Aisha left and Ros went to bed (she had to open the coffeehouse the next morning). I finished another Python episode though they are not good alone, but fortunately Paul came home somewhere into it. He drank a big Corona as we finished it and then watched an episode of Arrested Development. Then I came up here to write this, but I looked at facebook, 4chan, nerve, and Vice first. I read a story whose author blurb made my loneliness piquant. It burns and blossoms sometimes, quickly, then subsides as an undercurrent with a strong presence. Then depending on stimuli it will assert itself again and again. It's still here but I didn't cry. I think I relish it. Good night!

A note: I borrowed my friend's mandolin and am slowly attempting to teach it to myself. The strings are fifths apart (aren't guitars fourths?).

- I have only recognized two people in my entire life who had actually black hair. By that I mean that it shone blue in the sun, not reddish or brownish. Not dyed either! A Chinese girl and an Indian boy.

- I will say something about Japanese porn. No it's not about eels.wmv or japscat or anything. I just hope they don't kiss like that in real life.

- I despair that I will never regain hope in life. I miss caring about the things I used to care about. I have hope but no real plan to achieve the betterment of myself. I feel damaged, weirdly like an abused child, and don't know if I'll ever get back to that point again. Er the point of going out and doing constructive things without feeling like shrinking away. And honestly I cannot tell you what stops me from going to lectures and seminars, free shows, gardening projects, and the like. srsly wtf

instruments

Instruments I already know how to play:
piano
basic to detailed knowledge of a wide range of latin/afro-cuban percussion
basic hand drum knowledge
andean winds: pan, tarqa, pinquillo
basic recorder (B flat and F sharp are the only "accidentals" I know)
all classical percussion: snare, marimba, chimes, many et ceterae

Instruments I want to learn how to play:
mandolin (!)
hurdy-gurdy
lute
dulcimer (!)
lyre/harp?
organ
drum set
tabla
I'd probably like to refine my cello knowledge
Also whatever instruments are involved in learning ragas

I'll update this as more of my mental list reoccurs to me. Also I'm not counting anything electronic here; that'd make the list doubly as long probably.

I'm fortunate to have been educated in percussion-- I can play almost any percussion instrument within a few minutes of picking it up. I barely remember how to do anything on a stringed instrument, though, and my utter disinterest in modern guitar (Why?? I don't know.) has had a prohibitive effect on my ability to pick up other stringed instruments. You can probably tell from my list that I'd play any folk-ish small stringed instrument like a rebec or anything.

I don't know which "you" I am talking to, because I'm pretty sure I don't and won't have any readers. Anyway, pretending that you're an acquaintance who lives in my town, I'll tell you this: (a) If you know anyone who teaches mandolin or dulcimer, PLEASE hook me up with them. I want to learn these sooo fakken bad. (b) I want to take any opportunity to play music with people. I've fallen hard out of the habit and miss it terribly. Especially good is if you have need of a percussionist in a large group of people-- Irish, Balkan, Nigerian, whatever style, I can and want to do it. And especially especially good would be if someone there wanted to teach me another instrument. :3

p.s. [How] Is it true that Turkish scales have like eighty notes?

Internal recognition of Japanese war atrocities

I was in a Japanese history class for a semester. It was supposed to be post-WWII but ended up being end-Tokugawa/beginning-Meiji onward. Anyway, through all the lectures and projects, and even through a study of Japan's imperialist period, I have never discovered why the Japanese are so intensely unwilling to own up to their war crimes. Glaringly well-documented historical practices and events, such as the Bataan death march, comfort women, the Rape of Nanking, and Unit 731 are, for the most part, glanced off the shoulder or just outright refuted. Of course their wartime media focused on the plight of the ethnically superior Japanese soldiers. I can understand that during a war. But what does it say that present-day Japan refuses to deal with its past? Or, a frightening possibility, are they simply unashamed, unchanged, even quietly proud?

Did you know that during the wartime period, I'll say about late '30s to mid '40s, the Japanese killed more than Nazi Germany? And possibly even more than Stalinist Russia?! (I say "possibly" because the Stalinist figure is subject to disagreement-- the commonly tossed around number is 20 million, but one professor places the estimate at a whopping 62 million.) 30 million Filipinos, Indians, Malays, Vietnamese, Koreans, Cambodians, Indonesians, Burmese, and of course Chinese. Probably more ethnicities. Damn.

But there are quite a few analogous situations in the U.S. (American Indians principally). And regarding stuff like slavery, what do our empty politically correct apologies really accomplish? O SHI--

This is too complex an issue to tease out in a small stupid blog posting. Nihonjinron, ethnic cleansing, jingoism, overcompensatory emulation of the West... HALP.

This posting was prompted by: http://thelede.blogs.nytimes.com/2007/03/05/the-politics-of-apology-for-japans-comfort-women/

A - when I think about you I get so empty I feel sick.