untitled.
its 1.30am and i still don't want to get in bed for some sleep.
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i was going through my bookshelf looking for something that would spark up my interest in this middle of night. in the end, i ended up scrolling across several new blank notebooks, amongst them i found one very old and forgotten journal that i once used as a diary. it was blue with cartoonish bullet trains on the cover and it straight away kicked me in to remember that this book recorded my journey and experience in Japan when i was in high school.
i read it. scrolling from page to page and skimming through time that brought back so much memories. good and bad. looking back to that diary in which i desperately put down all my thoughts and events during the 2 week exchange program made me chuckle a bit. firstly, i wrote that diary after completing year 11 japanese, so technically the whole diary was full of what one would consider as broken-japanese with poor level of expressions. i mean, no point arguing about that because that was why i went on that program, just to improve my japanese. lol it is in fact quite funny how i recorded my days in Japan, not leaving out any fine detail and in some cases, some personal thoughts that were so redundant.. that i would now keep telling myself several times in the head that i got the point.
it made me rethink about the whole experience in these sloppy pages of my written thoughts, whether the whole journey was worth it. i embarked on this journey with a whole bunch of people who had no clue how the world outside would see us; i embarked on this journey full with excitement and exuberance, not knowing that life could be that unexpected, leading myself to dismays and conflicts with people of different cultures. frankly i was that immature and naive when this all happened.
what happened has happened, you can't change the past but you can change the way you see it. i see this as one of the major steps towards maturity in my life. it made me reflect on myself and how to learn to perceive the world outside my narrow box when i was 17.
3 years had past and these fractured memories still remain deep in my mind. i sometimes yearn desperately to forget them... but i ended up puncturing them deeper and deeper.

