Life's Like That

Just this morning, I heard that my friend's brother died in a motorcycle accident. I'm not sure of the details, but because of this piece of shattering news, he's going back to his country in the next earliest flight available.

To think he just got accepted for a job finally after going on a job-hunt for more than 4 months. And only last night, we were talking about taking a trip down to Kyoto for the holidays... *sigh*

Life's surprises are too surprising; dreadful, cruel, and unjust. Yet sometimes it can be so beautiful, joyful, and wholly unexpected that it can't be nothing short than a true miracle.

When you thought things have finally settled down and that the road seems to straighten out its curves, a sharp bend suddenly careens you out of control, leaving you grasping frantically on the wheel wondering, "Where the heck did that come from?!"

I am well aware that death is to be expected and that life is but an instant, but to have it taken out of you so abruptly, it's just SO unfair. I seriously can't imagine what I'd do if my own brother would suddenly go away like that. Granted, me and him have fought for so long and reconciled many times more, then went entirely into war and into a truce. But I love my family, and they have always been there for me. I've taken it as a fact that they're always there, just an email or a call away.

And that even with 6 months of notice, my family considered my leaving for a Japan still "a shock" is proof that no matter how many days, months, years, or even a lifetime it would take, nothing could ever mentally and psychologically prepare anyone for the sudden departure of someone they loved...


My thoughts and prayers go to those who have been treated unfair by life and its awful truth. And to my friend's brother:

May you find peace and comfort with such sincere friends and a loving family, and may all those you have asked be answered. Eternal rest I hope have been granted and light lead you into God's arms.

Today has gotten much colder. Painfully so.

To Leave, Lose, and Gain

The house has been a bit dramatic lately, it's as if I'm leaving already. Everytime they'd start becoming all sentimental on me, I'd remind them it's not for 4 months yet. But they'd still manage to make me feel somewhat guilty for leaving them. And for such a looong time too~

My mom would go tell me the things I'd have to buy, what I should pack, where to go, when to do stuff, how to do this and that, etcetera. She's even started packing bags of thingies for me; packs of tissue, detergents, laundry stuff, toothpaste/brush, shampoo saches, and other who-knows-what. And I'm not sure if it was intentional, but she placed the suitcases and stroller on top of the staircase so that everytime we go up, we're reminded that there won't be a family of 4 in the house anymore.

Even my dad is doing his share of emotional nudges. He would bring me food and ask me if there will be someone who'll ever do that to me in Japan. Whenever I ride in the car he'd say that there will come a time when he would go to the office alone, without me in the passenger seat anymore. That everytime he'd hear one of the Jap songs I've scattered all over the house (and each of the car), he would be reminded of me. And my mom even told me that my dad would not take me to the airport... he won't be able to see me go. To see me get on that plane and leave everyone; it would be just too much for him. *sob*

Yes, I will miss the hugs, the cold milk, the rare massages, and the constant bickering my parents give me. And I know that I have and will still sacrifice a lot just to achieve my dream. It is still some 100+ odd days from now, but already I can feel the tension of stretching that rope that bounded me to my family. I promised to email everyday, to install a webcam and a mic, to be with them (as much as I can), even if not physically.

But nothing can compare to the real touch, their presence, and the care I've felt during all these 21 years I've spent with my family. When I'd sit in front of the PC and hear the floorboards creak when they enter the room and remind me that I've been on for too long, when I would sleep an extra minute more and my mom would touch my forehead saying that I should probably wake up already, when I'd doze while watching TV and my dad would startle me with a glass of ice cold milk, or when my mom would suddenly request a kiss from me.

Oh all right, my brother deserves to be mentioned here too: I'll miss his jokes (were they?), the nonsense questions he'd ask out of nowhere, the songs he'd forcefully make me listen to, the bodybuilding routines he made me do (and somewhat regret), the absurdly short patience he has, the shirts he'd buy and make me wear (which I kinda liked by the way), the remarks whenever we eat something that's not so healthy, the criticisms he'd make for just about everything everytime, or just the way he ignores me. He's a Master Ignorer, and both my parents agree.

Once I leave for Japan (darnation, I feel like tearing up), I'm sure I'd always look for something to distract me from missing my family. I know it's really impossible to do so, but I don't think I could sleep, eat or walk if I'm in a constant grief of separation. I love them so much, I'll miss them greatly, and will always be a part of the family.

I would still be the younger brother who throws hot chocolate on your head, listen to your nonsense, debate with you and not laugh at your jokes. The son who stays on the PC for hours, refuses to sleep early, and gives you a hug and a kiss. The child who had a monkey stuffed-toy, wore a red jumper, and kept on breaking precious glass things.

I would still be me. Only, I'll be somewhere else where I should've been. I'd be in Japan.

Me, my brother and Measles~

If anyone bothered to read my previous blog (One Eyed Daruma), I had a not-so-mild case of Measles just a couple of weeks ago. Oh you know, the one where you'll have a week-long fever, rashes even at the soles of your foot, dozens of mouth ulcers, severe tonsilitis, raspy dry cough, and never-ending colds.

It was a horrifying experience, especially if you've never been THAT sick before in your life. At some point, I even considered *gasp!* not going to Japan! I guess that's how delusional you'll be if you have a constant 40+ degrees celsius body temp. I was hallucinating most of the time; I had some rather unusual visits from a shadow ghost, a superhero who went inside my body, monster-mom, and a girl who kept on pricking my arm with scary needles! Oh wait, that wasn't a hallucination.

Anyway, I'm better now. All those other things were tolerable in comparison to the scars that the rashes left behind. Oh the horror I felt when I looked in the mirror and realized that the red spots became black spots! Why don't they turn flesh-colored instead? Huhuhu~

Without further ado, may I announce that my brother now has Measles. And he's angry at me because of it. As if I could control where the virus would go anyway! Hmpf. Super bad news though: the doctor warned my parents that I could still get infected with Measles, because a person usually gets hit twice before they can become totally immune!

OH NOOOOESSSS!!!!

And to think I have a medical check-up this Saturday. Wah. Nothing must jeopardize my chance to reach Japan! I shall not tolerate such unfair uncertainties. And thus, I shall isolate myself from my dear "old" brother and prevent the risk of appearing pockmarked AGAIN.

Oh just when I'm regaining my 21 year old skin back, something like this comes along. *hides*