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A story, I've once heard.
My friend A, had often had a dream about a red-colored bird flying in the sky. When she told the story to her boyfriend, she found out that her boyfriend had the same dream of the red-colored bird over and over. A married last year, and is now in Paris. I have no idea where A is now, or what she might be doing, and nothing so romantic seems to happen around me. One day in September, while I was having coffee and cheesecake at Starbucks in Shibuya, airplanes crashed into the buildings in America. At that moment, my friend A and her dream about the red-colored bird came into my mind. And at the very same time, a pang of fear hit me, and haunted me with an obsession: a fear that there might be, in the list of people who died in the airplane crash, the person who dreams the same dream with me. I was almost certain that the someone somewhere in the world where I've never been, the someone who might be having the same dream with me, was dead. And I understood that myself and this someone who I might love, will never meet each other and will be apart forever. |
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But here I am in Tokyo, in Japan, sitting in a wooden chair at Starbucks, not crying, nor smiling, sipping coffee and eating cheesecake.
I am just here blankly, being able to do nothing about it. Even worse, I had soon forgotten all about it while thinking about tomorrow's breakfast or wondering whether I should have sex or not. This is when I thought I should remember the moment of death of the someone who shares my dreams and was killed by another someone. At the same time, even if all the televisions and the whole world around me talk of nothing but war, I will not forget to dream my dreams. By staying over at men's houses in Tokyo, and by sleeping in places besides home, I will attempt to 'not forget' something. It's like a night on the school excursion or a night before the funeral. The bomb falling somewhere, will kill the love I haven't yet met. Then, I will choose to be a bomb myself, here in Tokyo, responsive of the uncertain news of wars and bombs. I am a bomb which will fall on some men, somewhere(my apologies for the trouble I will be causing). And I will record my dreams, with the memory of those places. But I won't have sex. If war takes place, sex will not. People keep talking about 'doing' something, but why can't we 'not do' something as cause of action? It's difficult to 'do' something, but to 'not do' something, maybe I can do. In this way, in such a personal manner, I would like to protest against the fact that someone who I might love, is killing or is being killed. And even if people start talking about nothing but war, I will continue to ignore it and spend the usual every day. You might say that nothing will change by staying over at men's houses, and war nor the killing will stop. You might say that if I were serious, I should go dig land mines, or donate money, or be a doctor. But isn't there any other way? Can't I start from something closer? If we help each other, if we donate......if we stop killing or being killed, if we stop war, many 'if's and dreams we can think of. But I am tired of waiting for those 'if 's of everyone. I am simply sad that there is nothing I can do but to stand here blankly, while the someone of my life might be dying. It would be wonderful if the 'if's of everyone became true. But even if the 'if's of everyone won't, the 'if's of you and I can begin right now. I am not an activist nor a campaigner, just a regular 23-year-old girl, here in Japan. A humble person who will not appear on city news even if sudden death came now. But even a person like me has someone to love or someone I might love in the future. So I am coming to your house. When you see me, you will remember about the days of bombing. When you eat supper, you will remember about me, about the love you've never met, and about your dreams. So see you on the bombing day. Now here it is, my graceful Japanese refugee life. |