The formatting in this post does not seem right. I however find treasure in even the most stupid work that I have put my hands on. I hope that explains my adamancy towards erasing, trashing, or even modifying the contents.
The greatest thing on earth, over the years, all ages is that one can express himself using the language called after his mother. By the way, mothers don’t teach language to their kids. I fail to understand why the title has their names attached. Kids learn naturally, from the air? Surroundings? Whatever! Point is the language you grasp at the tender age becomes the most powerful tool of expression that you’ve got. Treasure it, use it to change and impact your worlds.
But most of us have become victims of world system that has rendered our languages not as important, pushing them to the periphery. When we remember the language we become homesick. And above all we feel insufficient using the most adopted form of communication. But that language speaks to us with meanings that nobody can equal. Comprehension comes not as a struggle, but a natural norm indoctrinated inside of us.
That’s what I felt riding on the train today morning. I’m still sleepy, tried to sleep for a while but couldn’t, then time for work caught up with me. Thoughts of going to work and not feeling like I’m fully devoted to my work because it is on part time bases disturbs me. Partly because I’m getting old. Also, because its not a choice. It is the later that took my mind home. Obviously I was thinking in my mother tongue. Something that my English teacher discouraged, she argued that it affects manner in which I write my essays. But how could I avoid. It is the only language that flows from the cisterns of my blood.
That I can’t avoid working is factored by many variables. Since deciding to join the prestige university, you might ask why, so let me give you a direct answer then get back to our topic; to buy back my stature and a name! I will surely write about that someday, I have engaged in the activity of applying for scholarships for a hundred times if I recall. Nothing forthcoming. I thought I was appealing, particularly having them see my dark face, and the moving story that I give of my upbringing. How comes that no one has given my ground attention? Of course the simple explanation might be nobody knows exactly for sure how things are. For this I don’t put much time thinking about that.
As I looked around and pondering about my scholarship denial that makes me to have two part time jobs, I looked around and wondered why nobody, even the most close friends I have ever wonders on how I live financially. To worry here is not to scream heeee as is the case in Japanese society. But I mean to make a feeling of appreciation and giving a hand. I might be the cause. Mama said to me always, that she doesn’t and will not ask flies to donate blood to her. They are more hopeless than she. Looking back I get the image of how “darering” she was in need. But she put on a brave face. She doesn’t want to bother people asking them to help her. She can deal with her issues. I do carry her DNA.
I’m not at all seeking to be offensive because of the people around me. Actually as I thought about this, it occurs to me that most Japanese view me as rich and well able. Why? I don’t understand. I want to live up to that of course.