2:46 p.m. - 2006-02-18
toyo diary
My brother has an X on his right arm.
The X is the X Japan logo. It is inked in bluish black and it is about the size of my palm.
i squatted down and examined it while he was sleeping shirtless on the sofa in the livingroom.
Against his brown tanned skin, the X bleeds slightly.
He doesn't look like he's breathing. I put a finger near his nose to feel. Yes, he is alive.
I tiptoe away.
My mum she sits on the floor at the balcony, sewing a piece of cloth steadily with concentration.
No one hears me as i stepped out of the house.
It's a warm sunny afternoon, but there are clouds here and there in the sky against the deep blue.
i took a walk to the secondhand bookstore in the neighbourhood. The owner sat on a cane chair and smoked a cigarette. There was no one around. I looked at the shelves of books, hoping to pick out an interesting title.
A little girl in a blue dress came and she picked up a book. The dress was light and the gentle wind blew it, floating, hovering slowly. I stared as it billowed and rose, exposing her skin.
Till with a gasp, she pushed it down. And the wind slipped away. i glanced back to the pages of my book.
When i looked up, she was gone.
Even the bookstore is gone now.
there was a time when i went there to get a guitar magazine, looking at tabs for songs, and the inspiring interviews with silverchair, the golden haired boy. then i would go back to my room, and practise picking arpeggios till the sun set and my mom called me to dinner.
then i will watch television and then do my homework or study the textbook chapters for school. at this time, my father would be resting at home after work or he will be at the dialysis centre. my mom she would be at home washing the dishes. my brother he was still in army, a mechanic working on armoured vehicles.
A few years later, i would be in the same camp, staying in a dirty cement bunk with 19 other boys, dispensing boredom, living in caged personalities.
