Run Away Reports: Seattle

wintry sky

nobody@vox.com(Ukifune) — Sun, 08 Nov 2009 15:12:06 -0800

It is well into November now and the cold weather reflects the date on the calendar. Last week's strange sunshine and strong showers, loud thunder and bright lightening have left Seattle, replaced with biting cold I am all too familiar with.

Luckily I did not have to spend last night alone.

I was invited to a few parties, all of which were dismissed by Ryu when he came to my house. He wanted to stay in. I didn't resist. We drank a little wine, I, a single glass slowly, he, a bit more. We spoke quite a lot, mostly I asked about him. I like how he answers my questions without hiding anything, without faltering to think. I like how he speaks about his family, not detached but with an adult appreciation.

I asked him if he liked hot chocolate. He said yes. I made two cups of cocoa for us. I think he was pleased. He told me, No girl has ever made anything for me, only my mother and my sister. Who would have thought such a simple thing would make him smile?

His older, only sister is an opera singer, and he told me that he respects her because she works so hard to forward her dream. Needless to say, opera singing isn't exactly the easiest career path to follow, much less in Japan, of all places. He told me that she hardly goes out and he thinks she has never had a regular boyfriend.

I told him I will be sad when he returns to Kyoto. He sympathised and said that he wanted to bring me with him and keep me at his house. I joked about how his traditional grandmother would react to the new foreign addition to the family. He laughed and said that she wasn't so bad, his cousin recently married a foreigner after all.

He told me that he wants to visit me. He told me that he thinks it is good that I want to study so much, that I want to go to New York. He thinks I should do what I want to do. I told him that I don't want to be lonely any more. I don't want to be alone like his big sister.

He told me that I won't be lonely. I asked him why he thought so. He said, because I am changing.

Love For Sale

Read and post comments | Send to a friend

so much

nobody@vox.com(Ukifune) — Sat, 07 Nov 2009 13:19:09 -0800

I have so much to read and so little time... Books piling up for school and for my personal reading. I wish I could read faster.

I read a poem last night at Revolution Books, I really like being there. I love having a space downtown where I can escape the university environment I am beginning to hate. It's hard to imagine my goal of being in graduate school for several more years. I am very tired of the institution and the focus of it all, the goals of the university. I feel like it is turning most of the students into useless office workers that will be victim to the oppressive capitalist system. I want to escape it so badly, but each day it gets harder and harder to see beyond the dollar signs. A creative career is a terribly rare thing.

Sometimes I just want to shut myself up into my room and forget the rest of the world. Well, sometimes I do exactly that.

I promised I would spend next Tuesday night with someone who destroys me and drains me, so I am about to face a trying week. I am spending tonight with Ryu, looking forward to seeing him, but I have some things to do in the meantime. I am preparing myself, reading and getting ahead before Tuesday and the subsequent empty days it will cause.

Read and post comments | Send to a friend

nov4

nobody@vox.com(Ukifune) — Wed, 04 Nov 2009 19:09:13 -0800

Red lines, black lines
White drop back drop
Take a picture, this moment lasts forever.
In the security of night, I have nothing to fear,
Hold me close, my dear,
Your body allows me
To leave this city,
You aren’t really here.
Carefully you
Take everything I contain,
Swallowing,
I refrain from saying
No,
You aren’t allowed to do so.
Sorry I
never shut up.
19:06

Read and post comments | Send to a friend

paths

nobody@vox.com(Ukifune) — Mon, 02 Nov 2009 20:18:28 -0800

It's the sixth week of the quarter, which means classes will become more demanding, work will start piling up, and I will have less time to do all my favorite things (i.e. sitting around reading websites/books without direct application to my studies).

Dug through the university library catalog for sources for my research paper this quarter, social reform and nationalism in the Ottoman empire. I found some good books!

Had the "what are your life plans" talk with Ryu. It's simple. In two years he will be working twelve hours a day for some Japanese company and I will be beginning my master's degree somewhere on the East coast (if not farther away). He didn't seem very excited to hear about my uncompromising ambitions. And I told him I will be too busy this week to spend much time with him.

Signing up for piano lessons. My goal is to be able to play the first movement of Moonlight Sonata by the end of the school year. I've (re)taught myself how to read music and some of the scales and chords.

Also planning to read a poem at the second Revolution Books open mic this Friday.

Read and post comments | Send to a friend

halloween night

nobody@vox.com(Ukifune) — Sun, 01 Nov 2009 10:19:10 -0800

Back from the underworld.

Ryu came over around 19:00 and I did his makeup, painting a whiter face and eyeliner under his eyes to make him look like L. The makeup helped make a really good effect! I wore a black corset top that restricted my breathing and smushed my boobs together in a weird shape. I thought about being a school girl, but I wanted to be a little bit scarier, so I went with more black and chains. Ryu had no complaints. We took a few shots of vodka at a friend's house in the neighborhood with Kensuke and Tetsuya, then went to the party later at night.

I don't really like going to house parties (well, the few I have been to have been uninteresting) but I guess it has more to do with the people there rather than the setting and beer. Last night I went to the Halloween party of a bunch of (mostly Japanese and other Asian) International students. There were a lot of people I knew and many I didn't. When we showed up, the beer was gone so we were left with bottles of tequila, vodka, rum, and a bunch of mixers.

Of course we took more shots like the smart, efficient people we are... I lost count, all I know today is that it was too many.

The party was cool though, the house was packed, everyone was dressed up and beautiful. Lots of cute guys and girls. I didn't bring my camera, but Ryu did. I tried to play cupid for my friends Kensuke and Kei... they are perfect for each other I think, both 19 and petite and adorable. I pushed them into a bathroom together and I don't know how it went. At one point, people were cheering for Ryu and me to kiss and we did. All I remember is a million camera flashes going off (freakin' Japanese, always taking pictures) and then shouts of mo ikkai, チューして！kiss again~!!. Like I said, I haven't seen any of these pictures, I didn't have my camera!

I'm glad Ryu decided to leave when he did, it's always better to leave early. He told me let's go and his reason was simple, if we stay longer, we will drink more. So logical! Why don't I ever think of that? On the way out, in the front yard, I saw a group of guys smoking a bowl, and I took a couple hits, and even got a green hit! It was really good stuff, I forgot what he called it. The guy actually knows my friend Heather so I will keep in touch with him somehow. I walked home with Ryu, stoned and drunk and generally happy but tired of my high heels.

We saw lots of drunk students in costume on the way home. Ryu was commenting on how great Halloween was, he was surprised, he was taught it was a children's holiday. There was a cop standing at a frat house on my block who surprised me and made me paranoid, and I remembered that I was breaking the law. It is so ridiculous that I can't drink legally.

Anyway, I went home and Ryu kinda took care of me, I am grateful. He took all my clothes off very slowly and carefully, while I suffered in my super high, intoxicated body, he removed all my accessories, my socks, and folded everything away. I did nothing, just lay in bed. It felt nice.

Read and post comments | Send to a friend

accepted!!! International Studies

nobody@vox.com(Ukifune) — Fri, 30 Oct 2009 12:37:28 -0700

Though it has been on the back-burner of my consciousness, I had not heard from the super competitive and bureaucratic International studies department about my application to the major. I applied a couple weeks ago, and I was kind of confident about getting in, but nothing was official.

I am pleased to report that I just received my acceptance email. Woo! Both of my majors are officially declared! yatta!

Date with Ryu tonight, he is so cute sometimes. More about him later, I have a comp lit midterm due in 55 minutes! I've titled it, "Sex, an Art of Tensions?" and it's an analysis of a sex scene in a comic we read for class.

---

So I'm at home, finished with the week. What do I do? It's always a rush to to finish. And afterward I still feel at edge. I still have a bunch of wine at my house from last weekend.... *pours a glass*

Ryu says he wants to meet later, around 7 for dinner. It's weird. I think going out in public with him will be strange. I will have a few drinks before I see him, otherwise, I won't be able to relax.

I had sex with him a few times, and I was totally sober. I'm preoccupied with the idea of it lately. Starting to feel perverse. No, I am not saying he was amazing, I'm saying that I am probably thinking about it a lot more than is normal. It is strange to be doing this with a student. He thinks I'm his girlfriend. No one has ever really called me that. Even Arihito last month in Tokyo, we saw each other pretty regularly but we were just friends. Even Yusuke... called me every day, but I was so busy and ignored him so much that I don't think even he could consider me a girlfriend.

Ryu on the other hand, is informing all his buddies back home that he has "made an American girlfriend."

Anyway, sex. As much as I try to convince myself otherwise, it is still not as good as a dose of really good H. Or alternatively (if you aren't into the needles and illegal stuff) a bunch of oxies. Seems like nothing will ever be.

I like how the effect of drugs lingers, I like how it makes me feel, what it does to my mind and how it changes the world. I need nothing else when I'm high, just me, satisfied with myself for a while. Sex doesn't do that. I really gave it a chance! I "liberated" myself from a previously very negative attitude toward sex. No I don't think it's dirty, I think it can be very sensual and it makes you feel good for a little while, even a day or two after, you might be thinking about that person. But to be honest, it's not really satisfying on the same level that I feel after writing something I imagined during a high, or the feeling of my body when I take opiates.

I don't want to say that I've tried everything, but I feel like I have, different types of people, different scenes, I don't even want to describe all the different situations, but it's still not as good as sticking a pen into my hand til I bleed or getting high out my mind. Nothing compares to the calm that I feel the day after I cut myself or after getting high and writing all night.

Today is auspicious. It's very windy, and somehow warm.

Read and post comments | Send to a friend

what is a writer?

nobody@vox.com(Ukifune) — Mon, 26 Oct 2009 17:19:13 -0700

Two quotes from Polish-born American author, Isaac Bashevis Singer:

When I was a little boy, they called me a liar, but now that I am grown up, they call me a writer.

A good writer is basically a story teller, not a scholar or a redeemer of mankind.

Today we spoke about autobiography as truth in my comparative literature comics class. A lot of the power that autobiographies (and memoirs, for that matter) have is based in the reality and honesty the genre promises. The reader trusts the author to tell the truth, his personal experience, his story. But perhaps autobiography is closer to fiction than we might expect.

It is completely up to the writer's discretion to decide what is worth retelling. And besides the glossing over and remolding of facts (as well as simply lying), to fit something as abstract as life into some sort of literary model, with a beginning, middle, and end is already distorting the truth, isn't it? Taking random, fragmented events in life and putting them into some sort of meaningful, organised form or narrative, isn't that a type of trickery? An illusion? A type of lie? And having one person's perspective on a lifetime of events, isn't that a bit limiting and unfair? Yes it is! And I think it's wonderful.

Fiction on the other hand, is the opposite. You have a story that never happened, people who don't exist, and an attempt to make the events seem as real and probable as possible. It's the reverse strategy. I'm not very good at it.

I met up with Ryu today after school for coffee. He says he "always wants to be with" me. He asked me if I would accept that, I said alright, sure. He's kinda cute, a typical, private, all-boys' school guy (middle and high school in his case) and studies international peace and conflict resolution. His English is pretty good-o, and-o he wants to hang out tomorrow.

Where are you?
A deep grey blue,
A heavy mood in the late afternoon,
Gloom enters my room,
Seeps through the blinds,
Clear lines,
A sort of bright, artificial night,
Darkness in the light,
Into a thick, cloudy white,
I disappear,
Under this cover,
Until sun sets,
The color of blood
I begin to see
An orange glow
Burning in the window.
Where are you?

Read and post comments | Send to a friend

Ryu in my room

nobody@vox.com(Ukifune) — Sun, 25 Oct 2009 15:24:00 -0700

So there's this guy, Tetsuya from Kyoto, well, there are a whole group of guys from Ritsumeikan uni who are studying here for a quarter and I met some of them at Wednesday lunch. Two of them, Tetsuya and Kensuke asked for my phone number a couple weeks ago and I gave it to them. This week, Tetsuya invited me to a party. I said okay.

I met up with Tetsuya in the University district, he was with another guy, Ryu, who he introduced to me as the most kakkoi of his friends. He was alright, kind of standoffish and quiet, but he looked okay. Tetsuya on the other hand reminds me a little bit of Ai from Osaka, they are both from Kansai, and both are outgoing and smile all the time.

I had already eaten but they took me to drink with a group of people at this Korean place. There were a bunch of Japanese-American girls dressed similarly in black club dresses. They didn't talk to me. There was one other non-Japanese person there, a friendly Iranian-American guy who was born and raised in Tokyo, he had a lisp, but his Japanese was really good. I thought he was an interesting political product, I like meeting people with messed up national identities.

Tetsuya ordered a bottle of soju and let me drink most of it. I spoke with him most of the night but when he went to go to the bathroom I was left seated next to Ryu, who hadn't said a single word to me since we were first introduced. We talked about the Japanese elections and how he didn't vote because he was coming here and about his view of Japanese politics in general. Any guy who can stand talking politics with me for more than ten minutes gets extra points. And his name is Ryu for god's sake, he had already gotten me when I learned that (see: Ryu Murakami).

Anyway, after he finished eating, the Iranian guy left and the girls left to go clubbing downtown, acting all shy about it, like they were doing something super scandalous. The boys stayed with me. We called Kensuke, we considered going to his house on the south side, but he was actually in the University district singing karaoke with some girls. We let him be. In the end, the two guys came to my house, not without two bottles of cheap champagne (I don't have a bottle opener for wine) and cheese (Tetsuya's idea).

We drank the first bottle quickly. We thought to wait for Kensuke to come to open the second bottle, but he was being too slow. We drank the second bottle. When Kensuke showed up, we went to buy wine and chocolate ice cream (Tetsuya's suggestion again). Kensuke had to drink to catch up with us so we forced him to drink. He is the smallest one but he can handle drinking pretty well. We talked about this and that, love and heartbreak...

After a while, Tetsuya was falling asleep, actually, he did fall asleep and start snoring on my floor. We woke him up and made him go home. I was getting sleepy too, and too drunk. I rested my head on Ryu's lap (we were sitting on the floor) but continued conversing, though I don't really remember what we were talking about at that point. I was just paying attention to the feeling of Ryu's hand on my body.

I went downstairs and threw up in the bathroom. The vomit was deep purple like the cheap Merlot we were drinking. I came back to my room and lay in bed, which sort of signaled to the boys it was time to go. I said good night and I heard them leave my house. I got up and I showered, well, I sat under the running water for a while.

When I went back to my room, I saw that my window was open and someone was outside on the roof, ninja-style trying to come inside. It was Ryu. I was in my towel, dripping wet. I closed the door behind me and invited him in. He was trying to explain how he forgot his bag and that he tried to call but I didn't pick up. I told him yes, I was in the shower (clearly), and dried myself off. I told him he could stay, the buses were out of service at that point. He said thank you.

I dried my hair and hung the towel up. I was completely naked so I put on a long shirt. I didn't keep it on for very long. He commented on my tattoo while we were having sex, ukifune? That's always what they say. As if I am the one who needs to confirm the reading. We slept. He left around 7am. I also got up and brushed my teeth, took out my contacts, and went back to sleep.

Read and post comments | Send to a friend

Smart little girl

nobody@vox.com(Ukifune) — Sat, 24 Oct 2009 19:07:59 -0700

October 21, 2009

I asked him if I could change my shirt, I didn’t want to wear the buttoned one any longer.

Yes, but do it here.

I was sitting in the dark, in the living room. He had a few lamps on, a tall white candle inside of thick glass was lit, and the curtains closed over the windows, tied together to prevent any vision in or out of the house. I always felt like we were at some sort of ceremony. Wine glasses waited to be filled on the coffee table, and he was looking for the bottle opener. I took my softer shirt out of my bag and started to unbutton. At the cue of my silence he entered the room with the bottle in hand, Wait, I want to watch you.

I nearly changed my mind, but tried to ignore him. I pulled at the end of the sleeves and took the shirt off slowly, being watched, one sleeve at a time, off my shoulders, and folded it away. I slipped my arms into the second shirt and bent my head down, eyes closed, to put it through the neck opening, struggling with nervousness. He sat next to me and set the bottle down on the table.

I sat back and he pulled me closer, his hands around my waist. I resisted and when I tried to pull his hands off I felt them tighten around me, holding me in place. I stopped and glanced back at him, Let me pour the wine. He let go, with a look of reluctance on his face.

I poured his glass first then mine. I lifted my glass up and said cheers, but he just sat watching me. He didn’t lift his glass up but replied, Cheers, as if granting me permission. I took the first sip alone, eagerly.

“Still so dependent, aren’t you?” He said, “I can furnish your pathetic needs better if you ask.”

“I’m not desperate, I just haven’t had a drink in a long time. Can’t you just enjoy it with me without passing judgment and making commentary?”

“If I don’t, who will?”

I took another drink and refilled the glass. “It’s unnecessary. I am accountable for myself.”

“Are you saying you can get high on your own, or something? You have your means?” He laughed.

“No I don’t need to get high.”

“Good for you! I’m glad. Let me see your arms.”

I was holding the glass with my right hand and he reached for my left wrist. “Fuck off already. Let me be.” I brushed him away.

He stopped trying. He stood up and hit the side of my head with his palm as he walked to another room, leaving me alone with the wine. Don’t use that word around me. I filled my glass again, silent, suppressing the anger.

He came back with a hand mirror and produced a bag of cocaine from his pocket. He took a sip of his wine and opened the small bag, then looked toward me.

“Don’t act so disinterested.”

He made four lines with the powder then offered it to me, Ladies first.

I set my glass down and took the first line slowly, then half of the second. I handed him the mirror and took another drink of wine. He finished the rest of the powder himself then went to get a glass of water. When he returned he stood watching me.

“Haven’t you had enough to drink?”

“Can I finish the bottle?”

“You can have two more sips.”

I drank what remained in two big gulps.

“You think you’re smart don’t you? Clever girl, aren’t you?”

He approached me, Not such a smart move, he said. He pulled my hair, pulled it to the top of my head. Now, let me see your beautiful face. He continued to pull it and I tried to stay in place, I crushed my eyelids together. Tie it up, high up. In the middle of tying a pony-tail, he pushed me down into the couch, and then pulled my hair again, tying it very tight, my neck cracked.

He held my wrists together; I couldn’t move them at all. His other hand was in my shirt, pressing down on my stomach. He asked me how old I was.

I struggled. Twenty.

He was silent for a few seconds. I asked, how old are you?

I looked at his eyes, he was glaring, waiting, then I understood.

Fourteen, I whispered. I’m fourteen years old.

He stopped pressing, That’s what I thought. Don’t, don’t lie to me again.

He pulled my shirt off then held my wrists together again. He saw some scabs on my outer arms and stared disapprovingly. Is this what you were hiding? He kissed the cuts. You shouldn’t resist when I ask to see them, I’m trying to help you. Secrets aren’t healthy. We can’t keep secrets from each other, okay?

I nodded. He released my arms and kissed me. I kept my mouth closed. He insisted. He kissed my neck then started to bite me, it began to be painful, and the more I pulled away, the more it hurt. I relaxed. He stopped. He made me stand up.

I pressed the center of my body against his, and spoke into his neck, Please, I can’t stand it anymore, I want you, please. He humored me for a moment, laughed, breathed into my neck, then pushed me away, I fell to my knees.

I know what you are trying to do. You think I am some idiot you can manipulate? Do you see the situation you’re in? Don’t you understand that I can have you whenever I want?

October 24, 2009 19:07

Read and post comments | Send to a friend

polite?

nobody@vox.com(Ukifune) — Fri, 23 Oct 2009 21:46:06 -0700

There is this one guy in my Arabic class who usually sits in front of me. All I know about him is that he also studies Russian because I've seen his textbook under his desk. He is pretty quiet and doesn't skip class.

On Wednesday, I was complaining to my friend Aaron (smart, nerdy Jewish freshman kid who I am trying to corrupt) about how I didn't buy one of the textbooks for our International Studies class, how I needed to read it for the assignment this week, and I couldn't find it at any libraries in the city. Then the quiet guy, Scott, overheard me and offered to let me borrow his copy; he was in that class too (I had no idea), and he had already finished the assignment. I was so grateful, and accepted the book.

I guess I made a big fuss and thanked him a lot, he told me it was no big deal and then I felt silly for being overly thankful and nearly apologetic (I think I got that from hanging out in Japan so much). I just don't expect people to be so kind and, personally, I don't lend things to people because I am obsessed with keeping things in good (pristine) condition for as long as possible. I assured him I would "take very good care of" his book.

I stayed up late reading and woke up early to write the paper. I was rushing to class but put his book in a small bag (I didn't have a gift bag or anything, it was just an old marui shopping bag), wrote a thank you note (I think I spelled شكرا incorrectly in my rush), and put an apple inside (I wanted to buy cookies but didn't have time).

I handed him the bag and sat down in my usual spot, behind him. I suddenly felt really embarrassed that I had given him an apple in a stupid bag. I felt uncomfortable the entire hour, and rushed out of the room right as the bell rang to print off my paper and head to my next class.

Skip to the next day, today. I went to Arabic class as usual, my first class of the day. The classroom, in the oldest building on campus, felt empty, it's Friday, it's rainy, lots of students were skipping. I didn't really notice that he wasn't in class, but in retrospect, I remember he wasn't sitting in front of me. After class ended, I waited for Aaron to pack up and, as we headed toward the door, Scott appeared out of nowhere (maybe he was seated on the other side of the room the entire time?) to hand me a tiny origami lily with شكرا (thank you in Arabic, spelled correctly) written on all four petals. I was caught by surprise. He said, "Thank you for taking care of my book" with a smile on his face. I accepted the flower. I said something like "Oh you can fold origami? It's so nice! Thank you..." I got shy, and fled quickly out the door with my companion.

Before Aaron and I could make it down a flight of stairs, we were already questioning what it was all about. Was that a move? Is he just being polite? A flower? Guys don't do that kind of stuff, do they? Is he just being overly polite like I had been? Don't actions speak louder than words? In this case, I think I need to wait for more words, because actions can be big facades (a lot of mine are).

Read and post comments | Send to a friend