| Sunday, September 04, 2005 |
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this is me mph essay...found it lying around so thought..what the heck..might as well post it for the world to see...comments are welcome... 20th February 1942 (Wednesday) A man was shoved around into a room only illuminated by a dimming bulb, trembling and sobbing as he was laid supine on the stained marble floor. My superiors ambled into the room with a hose in hand, emitting a constant barrage of vituperation about the Chinese and how they were weak and unworthy of life. They were on their knees, whispering some gibberish into his ears whilst they toyed with him, prodding him with their swords. “It is time!” one shouted. The hose was forced into the man’s throat whilst the guard nearest to the adjacent wall turned on the tap, beginning what was said to be purgatory for those who were subjected to such forms of torture. Water drenched the man’s lungs and stomach, bloating him up to immense proportions. One of the officers had a sadistic gleam in his eyes, his stern countenance belying a masochistic fetish that burgeoned as he jumped up and down on the Chinese man’s stomach. The men around him joined in, decimating the poor man’s insides as they gamboled on him like a cushion. The pellucid liquid that was water became a cloud of ruby mist, spurting out of him like those fountains you see in front of courthouses and places of high esteem. I was dragged into the carnage, instructed to do as they were doing, to channel my ‘enmity’ into that one action. Tears rolled down my cheeks as I was forced to jump. I closed my eyes, hoping that the ordeal would be over, but the gurgling embedded itself into my mind, forever indelible and unrelenting, haunting me every night since that dreaded moment. Another man was brought into the room, bounded and blindfolded whilst a woman and child were schlepped in as well. Lieutenant Kojima brandished his blade and handed it to me. I was rife with chaos, unable to articulate my fear of what was to come as his hand lay outstretched. My oath to Japan and whatever sense of humanity I had left merged into a confluence of chaos and disarray. Lieutenant Kojima barked his orders again, questioning my loyalties as a soldier and threatening my life if I was insubordinate. My hands palpitated as I accepted the saber, my head bowed down as a token of respect. I was instructed to cut my hapless victim’s limbs one by one – slowly. A circle of soldiers formed around me, avid to bear witness to the hell that was to come. I started with the man’s feet and slashed his toes one by one, trying my best to tune out the wails and cheers of ecstasy all around me, going on to the shins, the knees, the thighs, the stomach, the arms, the chest… The floor turned geranium, oozing through the cracks and dents in the tiles as puddles of blood formed. The screams were muffled by jeers from the people around me. With every laceration I carved out from his flesh the atmosphere grew a thousand times more exhilarating for my comrades, and I grew a million times more hysterical with myself. The woman and her child, presumed to be my victim’s family, shrilled in utter consternation, begging for us to stop. His yelps only catalysed their suffering, the blood flowing from his veins destroying their already waning resolve to be released of their pain. By the time the man atrophied into a bloody carcass the woman and her child were laconic, unable to speak or whisper, obviously so overcome with mental torture that their minds had shut down completely – human vegetables. The exuberance displayed by Lieutenant Kojima and his men for their deaths turned my soul black. Staring at my blood-soaked hands, I could not help but weep for my sins against humanity. My whole body enervated into putty and for the first time in my life I saw my soul metamorphosed into a monster. What was once full of life and effervescency quickly degenerated into a dark abyss of hate, grief and despair. No amount of repentance could save me, no amount of forgiveness could keep me from the travail that I placed upon myself. I spent the rest of the afternoon in my tent, replaying the massacre that I had unleashed earlier this morning. Only 16 years of age and I had become a killer. My act of atrocity remained as vivid as if I had committed it just five minutes ago, down to the most miniscule of detail. My eyes welled up in more tears as I kept telling myself that what I did was for the glory of the empire. What was it that Lieutenant Kojima used to say? “The Chinese are unworthy of life. It is only apt that we end it for them!” The havoc inside me grew more turbulent, unable to differentiate wrong from right, unable to separate obligation from conscience. Memories of my initial conscription into the Japanese Armed Forces resurfaced as I sat there lying prostrate on the bunk, alone with my thoughts – again. Everything I stood for – honour, courage, glory… All of which were just the types of propaganda that they filled into the minds of young military hopefuls, hopefuls like me. My irreverence for the old ways became more apparent after that. Whenever I bowed my mien was painted with frowns, my pupils burned with a rancour that seemed like it lasted forever. This might be the last entry I will ever make in this diary, for I plan to desert this centre of malevolence. It matters not where I go or what becomes of me, so long as I am free from the tyranny that has possessed my kinsmen, exonerated from the damnation that brought about the Empire’s “glory”. As such I leave tonight. |
| Jin Han 8:49 PM |
| profile |
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Jin loves brownies, cookies and cake. Jin has never been anywhere further than Australia. Jin could never stop being a sadistic, sarcastic meanie. Jin is also the opposite of everything said one line up when the need arises. Jin would rather have a desktop rather than a laptop. Jin has an obsessive, compulsive need to ramble, blabber and regurgitate all manner of nonsense. Jin hates being ignored by the people he loves. Jin hates being alone most of the time. Jin hates reflecting about his actions. It's taxing. Jin has a habit of thinking too much. Jin often doesn't see the glass as half-empty or half-full.He just sees the glass. To some, Jin is weird; to others, Jin is even weirder. Jin wants nothing more than to be happy. Rich would be a big plus though. Jin is pretty tired of referring himself in the third person's perspective. |
| dislikes |
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Being apart from my sayang. Seeing animals get tortured. Seeing people get hurt. Losing what's important to me. Sluggish internet connections. Bittergourds and zombies. |
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Caleb Chongshen Darell Jac Kee Kathleen/Kelvin Krystle Li En Li Ying Mei Xin Nico Pin Pin Shu Ling Sze May Yan Chyi Zcui |
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| This layout was originally created by undyinglove-haha, later modified by Yours Truly. Other credits go to X X and X Works best on   |