Soup

In these days I am really into soup. I eat soup practically every day. It’s not expensive at all. You can buy 1 pack, 4 packs in it, for a dollar at a grocery store. How to make it, you just open a bag and dump the powder into enough hot water, or vice versa. They don’t taste special.

One big reason I like soup is that it makes me think I am staying at a shed in Italy or somewhere. I eat a soup before go to work. I am poor as hell. My work is to clean chimneys out. My boss raps on the door of the shed and yells at me to come out. I pick the bowl and drink the soup out of it. I wear dirty clothing and cram a piece of bread into a shabby bag. The bread is the best food I have and it keeps me positive till lunch. I nearly forget to bring rags to pick my nose holes after a chimney, or I die from lung problem. I run out of the shed and say good morning to my boss as radiant as possible. He is going to walk with me and asking if chimney cleaning is needed. My day begins.

So a soup kicks me into that kind of daydream all the time. And every time I have a bowl of soup, I re-realize that life has to be fun and exciting. I swear to the sky of Italy, where technically I have not been, I will try. You cannot think little of a soup. They have some magic. Or I am nuts.

I had two bowls of soup this morning and it made me feel sick. I swore to Tokushima’s local sky that I wouldn’t take soup for a while. I am simply tired of it. Maybe I cannot be a good chimney cleaner.

Oh dogs, dogs...

Have you ever seen stray dogs? You want to say recently wild dogs were all wiped out by special swat organized by government years ago. Be quiet. They still exist.

Today I saw one of those stray dogs in local area of Tokushima, my city. You might want to say Tokushima-city is quite small, well let me think, okay that’s true, but please overlook it. I was on a flower delivery to an auction company. Unloading plants in this cold morning wasn’t too exciting. So I and my father did it quickly and got on the truck, hurrying home. When the truck was about to get out of its parking I saw a dog. Actually we looked each other a while. It must have been less than 2 seconds. But I felt I saw the dog’s whole life clearly… I never saw such a sad looking dog. His, okay I decided it male, eyes were small; and they were outlined by red colour—I hope it’s not flesh. Anyhow, he must be a mixed breed, so are its parents. He looked so pathetic. His white fur looked never brushed or anything. I figured he hasn’t had any happiness since he was born. He must have been suffering from his sad destiny. I also bet he never had sex as well. It sounds I am strange, but if you take a glance at the dog, you cannot help thinking about it. He was wearing an aura which made you think if he were a human, he would own hundred of sex dolls and kill his extra time on virtual dating video games. That kind of sadness the dog had. You know what I mean? How sad it is.

Life is exciting

I am not trying to write my journal in a funny way like my friend did. However it seems like I ran out of things to write. Is my life not exciting? No, I admit it…that’s no. But I got 24 hours; ignore sleep—I am having funny dreams that are exciting, I should have something to write. Well, there is the last way—that’s still the third day, god—left: enumerate what I have done today.
1. Woke up, but I didn’t want to get up. That must be around 5:30
2. Got up, did not thing good for a while on Futon
3. I was about to go to work but realized was supposed to throw burnable garbage. Opened the bin I found the mess. Stinky crab was everywhere on the bottom of the bin.
4. Cleaned the mess in disgust.
5. Went to work.
6. Worked.
7. Came home.
8. Here I am writing a journal.

Exciting…

Going normal, if I can

I am supposed to give a speech at the next Toastmasters’ meeting. I was going to describe how different Japanese jokes and western’s (people who speak English) are. What motivated me to do it was many friends, English speaker say Japanese joke sucks. How dare they say that? The reason they don’t understand is because they don’t understand Japanese jokes. So my frustration and resentment nearly hit the ceiling. I decided to give a speech about jokes (but not this time). I am pretty sure most members—old ones—won’t understand what I talk about and why. Anyway, at the next next chance I will give a speech about jokes. One month is not enough to research all Japanese jokes and western jokes to convince English speakers of that Jap joke is funny as hell.

Since I had been away from blogging, I don’t know what to write. I used to not have this problem, as far as I look back my past posts. Well, probably back then my journal was about complaining of my circumstance such as my evil managers who wringed money from co-workers in Tokyo kind of thing. I can complain of practically anything if I want to. I used to have a Japanese journal and I was writing about my company and annoying colleagues in a very funny way. One friend who I told the existence of that blog once sent an email me and said that my posts were extremely obnoxious and made her sad. I was about to email back to say “if so, stop reading then and start your own blog to write about something beautiful like you have found a flower growing from concrete, so exuberant, gave her a hope” I would add “ That flower might have been fertilized by a plenty of dogs. Do watch out before you think” Luckily I didn’t send it to her; instead I said thanks as try to be Japanese as possible. Anyway, what I want to say is this blog not going to be as outrageous as before for sure. But I don’t write about an over energetic flower which took trouble to bring itself up in concrete. This is going to be in between.

Whipping your brain to wring a something funny

One of my friends was keeping a “funny” journal for a while. You are supposed to write something funny everyday to entertain random people. She quit. She said it’s pretty hard to write something funny every day. She was stressed out after kept the journal for a month.

When I heard she was doing that journal; that was already funny. I mean who in the world keep a “funny” journal? Besides she is not living on the funny side. As far as I know she had been residing in self-conjured-depressing-world for at least 3 years. So that was an improvement of her. Okay my journal is getting dull. I’m sure I cannot keep a “funny” journal to keep people laughing.

Okay, here is a funny story (at least I believe it is). I belong to Toastmasters. You should not laugh now. I didn’t get the funny part yet. Yep I am a Toastmaster who barely speaks English. I have been that for almost a year. Our club consists of almost 100% Japanese and one Canadian and a Scottish, my fiancée, Maz. I found funny in it. There is a guy whose speeches are always about sex or at least very dodgy. Toastmasters is supposed to be formal as heck, but he doesn’t seem to care about it at all. For instance when I was still a observer, he gave a speech, with a professional looking whip in his hand, about how he liked his wife on him while sex. Most of the members were older than me and they had common sense, but all they congratulated him for the speech, even thanked him…What the heck?

Ah, Biking!

"Biking is great"
Many people would say this if they once start riding a bike to work. It is actually. And I used to bike to work all the time when I was in Tokyo; 16km for round trip every day. I loved it. Apart from I once hit a Mercedes and was carried to a hospital by ambulance. In a way, that was a great experience, though. Lying on the middle of a big intersection near Harajuku station looking at the sky, wondering if I should pretend I was hurt or what. I thought that was Yakuza, Japanese mafia because they drive Mercedes, and they would breed me dry. Usually, Tokyo people are very much aloof and unkind, however that time many people huddled around me and asked if I was okay. I looked around there was a big mob looking at me. I felt like I was a movie star. I would’ve put my hand up to greet them, like as if to say I came back from Hell or something. But that was a big intersection. If I did it would be run over by an old woman on a scooter, who didn’t know an accelerator from brakes.

Okay, I wandered from the subject. That happens a lot when I write. Well what was the subject…yeah biking.

Now I started biking to work again since moved out of my old house to live with Maz, my fiancée. I have not ridden for a while; so at first I felt tired after I biked. It is okay. If you don’t practice for a while you get rusty in anything. However a bad thing is, I feel I can go as I used to. That’s the biggest problem with me. Many fathers get hurt when they attend their kids’ annual athletic meet which they are allowed to participate in for some events. They try to do their best to show off to their kids without knowing they aged and their bodies no longer take any physical stress.

So I have to be careful not to push hard myself. Anyway, biking is great.

I came back to this outskirt

I guess I will start writing again. It seems I and blogger are together again. Well, it’s just because I got new computer and it doesn’t kick blogger out.

I haven’t written for a while so it must be a year or so. Of course I have been keeping a journal while I was away from this website, though. I even kept a dream journal. It’s not about what I want to be, is about what dream I had. The dreams you have while sleeping. This was an idea to write my dreams, however no one would understand. I swear to God. For instance I had a dream. In that dream I was in a classroom taking a math class. Suddenly the teacher stood up and declared.
“I am going to kill some student from now” brightly. He killed a girl with a gun. With a feeble dry sound, she fell down on the floor on her face. We all cheered like nuts then suddenly the teacher called my name. I stopped shouting. It seemed everybody stopped at the same time. I looked at my friend next me and said.
“Oh, I am going to die. Goodbye,” with this ‘no one can help this situation’ voice. I made for the teacher then I woke up.

Did you understand? So that’s why I didn’t keep a dream journal.

Here I am and just started writing again, something normal.