sweet trance

since 04.18.2004
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iwaki

just exactly how it was a long time ago
i stepped off the train, carrying my big ass suitcase.
and there grandma was, waiting for me by the exit.
instead of being the big grandma i knew back then
she was all small and looked so fragile.
i mean, she still had kankles...but still.

some things really didn't change.
the tiny elementary school i went to durin the summer
the playground looked exactly the same
i remember fighting over the swings with some chick
we were friends for a lil while,
until she told the whole class that i had a crush on dis dude in the classroom next door.
i still think she's a loser this very day. but heh.

the second i stepped into grandma's house
i could feel all the emotions i felt when i was there back then
as if i never even left the place.
the kitchen was sticky as usual - u know grandmas...they just love to fry everything.
the bathroom was still cool.
it was one of those toilet seats that kept ur butt all warm
and would squirt water up your va-jay-jay so you stay clean.
but that thing freaked me out, so i just stook with the joy of warmth.

her bathtub was old. i mean, OLD.
smelled of old onsen bathsalts that's never been scrubbed.
i was scared of using it. sry dude.

the little portable seats she used to have in the dining room
evolved into high-tech seats that lifted up just a few inches off the floor.
they kept your butt warm.
i wonder what it is with asians and warm seats?
did i mention her car seats can get warm too?

the futons....awww, futons.
grandma would get my futon ready with layers and layers of blankets.
the top futon (or moufu) was fluffy and light
and everytime i huddled myself into the futon
i would smell this very distinct scent from the futon.
a scent so warm and comforting.
made me feel so close to....i dunno. i just felt very protected.
i know, it's just a futon. yeah.
but it made me feel. very calm.
everytime i sleep in one of grandma's futons
i always felt that way.

i love the fresh air over there.
so many memories would flash back to me
of those days when i lived with her when i was around 8yrs old.
i thought mom didn't want me anymore,
cuz everything was so bad back at home.
so she decided to have me live in japan, far far away from everybody.
i felt so lonely. and so out of place with all those inaka kids in school.
i couldn't read, i couldn't write.
wut the fuck was up with those piano pipes?
recorders too - i swear, every asian owns their own recorder.
at least lunch was good....
but kids would make fun of me cuz i wuz different.
wutever, ryt.
somehow tho, it still sticks clearly in my mind...

but heh,
all i wanna do right now is go to fukushima
and sleep in grandma's futon.
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