前回の健康診断で、161.5cm→161.0cmと5mm縮んでいた。
女性の平均身長は158cmなので、平均よりやや高めだが、なんせスタイルが悪いので163〜4cmくらいになって頭身のバランスを整えたい。
「大人 背を伸ばす ストレッチ」などググってやってみてるけど、全然伸びた感じがしない。
加えて最近反り腰な気がするし、ついでに肩の位置が左右で結構違う気がする。体ガタガタやん。
暫くサボってしまった整体また行くかな〜〜〜でも勧誘(もっと高いプランにしよう、回数券買おう的な。)が嫌なんだよ〜〜〜〜〜〜〜
mu-tonいるやん
In a discussion about the case, someone raised an objection to "someone who was not a party to the incident, who was not from Nagasaki, and who was not from Hiroshima, complaining about it. Seeing that opinion made me aware of my position, so I will say what I must say.
I was born in Nagasaki and am a third-generation A-bomb survivor.
I say this because I grew up hearing the stories of the A-bomb damage directly from those who suffered from the atomic bombings.
I feel that it is unacceptable for someone like me to speak about the A-bomb damage.
However, there are few A-bomb survivors left, so I will speak up.
In Nagasaki, children grow up hearing stories about the atomic bombing. We were made to sit in the gymnasium of an elementary school in the middle of summer, where there was not even an air conditioner or a fan, and for nearly an hour we were made to listen to stories about the atomic bombing. It was hard for me anyway.
I think it was even more painful for the elderly people who told the stories. But I don't think an elementary school kid could have imagined that. I, too, have forgotten most of the stories I was told. I can only remember one or two at most.
Another thing is that at this time of year, pictures of the victims of the atomic bombing are pasted up in the hallways.
In other parts of the country, these are grotesque images that would cause a fuss from the parents who are always nagging about them.
Recently, even the A-bomb museum has become more gentle in its exhibits, and most of the radical and horrifying exhibits that would have traumatized visitors have been removed.
I don't know how elementary schools now teach about the A-bomb damage. But when I was in elementary school, there were photos on display.
There was one photo that I just couldn't face as an elementary school student. It was a picture of Taniguchi Sumiteru(谷口稜曄). If you search for it, you can find it. It is a shocking picture, but I would still like you to see it.
I couldn't pass through the hallway where the photo was displayed, so I always took the long way around to another floor to avoid seeing the photo.
My grandfather was under the bomb and went to the burnt ruins of the bomb to look for his sister. I can understand now that he couldn't turn away or go another way.
There would have been a mountain of people still alive and moaning in the ruins of the burnt ruins. There would have been many more who would have died out in agony.
My grandfather walked for miles and miles, towing a rear wheelchair, through the narrow streets of rubble-strewn Nagasaki in search of his sister.
My grandfather was not a child then. But of course there were elementary school children who did the same thing he did. I am not speculating that there were. There were. I heard the story from him, and I still remember it.
A young brother and sister found their father's corpse in the ruins of the fire and burned it themselves. They didn't have enough wood to burn him alive, and when they saw his brain spilling out, they ran away, and that was the last time they ever saw him again.
I can never forget that story I heard when I was a kid, and even now it's painful and painful, my hands are shaking and I'm crying.
I keep wondering how that old man who ran away from his father's brain was able to expose to the public the unimaginably horrible trauma, the scar that will never heal, even after all these years.
Now I think I understand a little.
Why I can't help but talk about my grandfather and the old man now, even as I remember my own trauma.
Because this level of suffering is nothing compared to their words being forgotten.
It's nothing compared to the tremendous suffering that once existed that will be forgotten, like my hands shaking, my heart palpitating, my nose running with vertigo, and so on.
My grandfather, who went through an unimaginable hell, lived to see his grandchildren born, and met his sister's death in the ruins of the fire.
In other words, my grandfather was one of the happiest people in the ruins of the fire.
My grandfather and that old man were, after all, just people wading in the depths of hell.
I think that the suffering that even people who had experienced unimaginable pain could not imagine was lying like pebbles on the ground in Nagasaki 78 years ago, and no one paid any attention to it.
Their suffering, which I can't even imagine, is nothing compared to the countless, unimaginable suffering they witnessed, which they pretend never happened.
Memories fade inexorably with each passing human mouth. The memories that those people could never allow to be forgotten are almost forgotten.
The tremendous suffering of 78 years ago is mostly gone, never to be recounted.
Those who suffered the most from the atomic bombing died rotting in the ruins of the fire without being able to tell anyone about it.
Many of those who saw it with their own eyes kept their mouths shut and took it with them to their graves. Most of those who spoke a few words are still in their graves.
Compared to the words of the old men, my own words are so light. I would rather keep my mouth shut than speak in such light words.
But still, someone has to take over. I realize that even my words, which are so light, are only the top of the voices that are left in this world to carry on the story of the atomic bombing.
I know how it feels to think that I am the only one. Still, I hope that you will not shut your mouth. I know that I have closed my mouth because I thought I shouldn't talk about it, and that is the result.
Sometimes I almost choose to stop imagining the unimaginable suffering and live my life consuming other people's suffering for fun.
I am writing this while I still have some imagination of the suffering of the old people whose voices, faces, and even words I can no longer recall.
君とワイが書き込んで、あと一人が必要やね。
鬼滅遊郭編の堕姫
のんが声してるやつあるだろ。
アニメ「キミキス pure rouge」視聴後の絶望、当時はまだ幼く購入できなかったPS2、一向に移植されないゲームソフト
私は長きに亘り待ち続けた
星乃さんとの正当な出会いを求めていた、清く真剣な交際を始めたかった
姉妹作「アマガミ」の新作ハード移植を知る度に、まだだ、まだ、まだ必ずや希望があると私は待った
青二才だったのだ
どんなに待ち侘びても沙汰はなく、アーカイブスにも登場はなく、純朴な感情だけでは星乃さんには届かない
輝日南高校の生徒になった私は、真っ先に星乃さんの元へと駆けた
星乃さんはどこにいるだろうかと校舎を歩くのが楽しかった
星乃さんに会えるのが嬉しかった、星乃さんと話せるのが嬉しかった、星乃さんが笑っているのが心から嬉しくてならなかった
度重なるフリーズ、週末まで辿り着けない
セーブポイントを超えられず、繰り返される魔の第4週
何度も聞いた会話、覚えてしまうリアクション、もってくれ私のPS2
無情にも、何度も何度も何度も何度も、目の前で景色が途切れてしまった
星乃さんを独りきりにさせたくない
9月の最終週、嵐の前の静けさのように、星乃さんと過ごせる残り僅かな学校生活は穏やかに過ぎていった
文化祭前日には恐怖に襲われた
また悲劇が起きるのではないかと気が気ではなかった、不安しかなかった
盟友は、最後の力を振り絞って私の期待に応えてくれた
Kiss Kiss 君に恋し続けて、私の思いはようやく星乃さんに届いたのだ
歓喜と焦燥、相反する情緒で眺め終えたエンドロールが忘れられない
星乃さんに出会えたのはあの夏たった1度きりだった
ロチェスター大のグループが常温超伝導を作ったっていう5月のNature論文はもう忘れた?
美容院で「広末涼子のこの写真の髪型にしてください!!!」とか恥もなく言えるようになったし出来上がりを見て「顔が広末じゃないからイメージと違いますねがはは!!!」とか笑って帰ってきたし帰ってから洗面所の鏡見て「広末涼子ではないけどこれはこれでなかなか似合ってるな!!!」って思うようになった。加齢による羞恥心に対する感受性が落ちてきてるんだと思う。