I look at the pictures and I can't even imagine what it must be like over there. I'd imagine, since I've thankfully never gone through it, that a fire would be better than a tsnuami because at least you can go back to the place your house once stood, even if said home is nothing but charcoal and bits of melted plastic and metal. With the tsunami there's just no telling where it once was. Sure, roads may have survived and that can indicate where things probably were but the place where your family's home may have been could be buried under tons of mud and the remains of other people's homes. Or the remains of other people.
I look at the faces of the people in the pictures and there just seems to be such shock and pain at the devastation and loss that it's almost uncomfortable, like inadvertently catching someone during some private, intimate moment. I know that the pictures are important, that we need to see the cost of what's happened there, but they make me wonder if the pain in Japan is ours to share.
I can't even begin to fathom the brain process behind the people, and yes, they are many, who allow dogs to shit all over beauty spots, place the faeces in little plastic bags, and then tie the bags in trees despite there being dedicated bins in sight of said trees. Why would you do that? Did I miss a meeting? Is there some wierd fucking cult out there? Is this some kind of offering? Some hidden meaning behind it? Or are they just brain-dead imbeciles?
Apparently, I suck at including pictures into my posts.
When I posted my introduction in the "introduce yourself" section of the site, I noticed that my picture in included in the post wasn't showing up in the preview of it. I posted it anyway, thinking it might just be a "preview" glitch, but it still appears as blank with question mark. I looked at the same post on different computers and the case remains the same.
I'm new to all this, so any advice that you can send my way would be helpful. Thank you.
I walked down by the river today, to see what had become of my childhood, only to find the hidden paths covered by sculpted hills and landscaped trees, or swaths of pale gray cement, and winding metallic stairways.
No sign of the loons. They're long-gone, gone when the construction started, fled like I did. Perhaps it was the only sensible thing to do. There are no tracks of rabbits in the snow, no tracks of deer, or raccoon or skunk. Only small birds and the occasional squirrel, and the tracks of people's pet dogs and their boots as they tromp along the clean, pristine walkways.
It does not feel like home, not like the place I went in anger or sorrow, to hide from the world, even during winter storms so bad I could hardly feel my fingers through gloves.
Gone. Gone are the twists of the river I knew, where loons nested and crawdads basked, ducks swam and the herons hunted. Replaced by tourist-friendly sculpted river rocks that never belonged here. Gone is the tree that was the childhood way of crossing the river (thankgod our parents never found THAT out), replaced by iron bridges painted rust-red.
The cops now want people to use the pathways, instead of chasing people away. They say things will be better now. They say it will bring tourists and money, this pale pathway I wandered, as if covering everything with pavement and fake wilderness made from stones of cement made to look 'natural' are a replacement for what was. A fake wilderness.
Very few will notice the difference. Very few will care.
So. I just got a gasmask... People keep on asking me why I have it, and looking at me expectantly. It's like they expect me to have a practical, mundane, every-day-use for a gasmask up here in Michigan.
Why did I get one? BECAUSE.
editing to add a LINK to a pic I edited of me in the gasmask. I deleted the eye lens things and then promptly scared the crap out of me. hahaha. Image removed because I've sufficiently spread my fear of my own editing. ;)