Saturday, June 20, 2009

Chapter 4 17 Years Old (1979-80) - "I can't even sing anymore . . ."

For my birthday, Mom and Dad gave me five lovely notebooks and letter sets. Ako gave me a sand-glass. Hiroki gave me a blod-tipped ballpoint pen with four colors. He said I shouldn't cry any more that I'm 17. Kentaro gave me a book titled Shiroi hito, Kiiroi hito (White People, Yellow People) written by Shusaku Endo.

My Wishes on Becoming 17 Years Old

I want to go to a bookstore and a record shot. It's difficult even in my wheelchair. I can't move my hands the way I want to, and I often make mistakes operating it.
If I could go to a bookstore, I'd buy Gone with the Wind and Anya Koro (A Dark Knight's Passing) by Naoya Shiga.
If I could go to a record shop, I'd buy an LP of Paul Mauriat's music.

I tumbled in the bathroom. I couldn't stay balanced on tiptoe (I may no longer be able to do that) and I fell down on my bottom with a thud. I wasn't hurt but I was scared. Yes, I'm scared.

I wonder if my disease can heal naturally? I'm now 17. I wonder how many more years I'll have to fight against it until God forgives me . . . I can't imagine myself at the same age as Mom is now (42). I couldn't imagine becoming a second grader at Higashi High, and now I'm afraid I may not be able to live till I'm 42. But I want to still be alive at that age!

3 comments:

  1. i would be happy more if i could give my own life to you. i'm really upset.

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  2. Masaya ako na napanood ko ulit ito dami kong luha pero worth it dahil makikita mo ang halaga ng buhay mo ngayon hindi ako mag sasawa na panoodin at basahin ang diary ni aya πŸ’ž salamat aya sa pag babahagi mo ng diary mo samin daming nainspired isa na ako dun πŸ’•πŸ™‚

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