I was recently reminded about a class I took during my high school years. It was a creative writing class with the teacher that looked like a slightly retarded Canadian pop-rock singer.
I can still recall our first assignment; writing our own obituary. Morbid, yes, but it was high school that kind of ideas was already implanted in our heads. I write a 300 word report about how I was going to die in a car accident in Japan, passing away at the tender age of 24.
I am now 26. I am back in Canada after a three almost four year experience in Japan. If I had to write my obituary now, I would still choose to die in Japan but perhaps at the ripe age of 68 would be nice.
I have thought about it long and hard. I am comfortable in Canada. My parents and friends are a great support system for me and I can say that I don’t have a lot of worries. But every morning I wake up and I wish I was back in my old house, the one that I paid for with my crappy salary and driving to work in my crap car that doesn’t even get FM radio.
The bottom line is, if I was to die, I would want to die in Japan. It not the friends per say or the job per say, but it’s has been my dream that, even in death, I would be in Japan. I have spent every single day since I was 15 years old working and studying to get to Japan and the years before that worshiping everything that is Japanese.
I know my dream is selfish and at the moment, I have given it up because of all the pressure around me to do so. But who can really say they understand what it’s like for me to be here, away for everything I have dreamed and worked for? Every time sometimes tell me they are so glad I left that dangerous plan, do they realize that they are telling me that I had given up what I worked for? Safety...most of the time it just doesn't seem worth it to be living in something that doesn't feel like my life.
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themoments's journal
