My Hands are small
But they're not yours, they are my own.

So originally I was going to make one post everyday all school week detailing my boring emotions and detached feelings to all the blogging world, but then I lost the motivation *shocker*. So now I'm just going to ramble.

I watched the Last Samurai in Japanese yesterday, and it was actually quite interesting. Although if I was in Canada I'm sure I would have given a bad review, because I'm in Japan it seemed more interesting. But, by the end of the movie, I was suffering from a completely contradictory hate/love for the Japanese. Hey! They have a word for that! It's ???or aizo. They actually seem to have lots of weird little opposite kanji-pairings. Hmm... Interesting.

Anyway, it all had to do with the Meiji Era. During this time, Japan went through extreme changes in a very short period of time. The Emperor, or rather the Emperor's council, decided that in order for Japan to remain a strong nation, it would have to assimilate and perfect Western Culture, which of course led to the deaths of so many unique cultural practices. That was not really what bothered me, however. What bothered me was that they half-knew what they were doing, and proceeded with it anyway. They killed their own culture and then had the gauze to mourn for it.

I don't think it's really possible to live here and not both hate and love the japanese though. It seems like it's just a thing.

Everytime I make a bank withdrawal here, it charges $5 ! from my bank account! Can you believe that!? arg. Oh well.

I wish that I had something to say. But whenever I have something to say, I always sit and say nothing. Like a good little boy.