Diary Of Tears - The Story About Kamui

Day Twentyfive

2008-02-04T11:58:00.000+01:00

Kamui walked outside of his house. He wanted to walk through his city and to reflect about what happened that night.
He hadn't left his house for thirteen days. He only lied inside of his bed. He didn't shave himself and didn't take a shower. He only ate on his bed and only drank on his bed.
He didn't play on his piano and never listened to music.
But one sudden day he stood up, went to the bathroom, took a shower, shaved his face, dried his hair, dressed up (a black sweatshirt, black pants, white shirt, black and white Vans) and walked outside.
His mother only looked at him, smiled and started to cry. She never really knew what she should do with her son. She never understood when he told her that he was different, than other young boys. He never liked to do sports or go to a party and drink all night. As a child he preferred to play with the girls. He also liked to dress up as a girl and pretend to be a Disney characters. Cruella DeVil was his favourite one. He sang the song she always sang and used pencils as cigarettes. Maybe it was because of that that he started to be different. Maybe this was the reason why the boys in school called him names and laughed at him.
His mother never understood why. She always thought that he only imagined that the people looked, pointed and laughed at him. Kamui stopped to talk with his mother. Earlier in his adolescence, he talked a lot. But suddenly he felt misunderstood. And that was why he stopped to talk.
Kamuis’ mother went into the kitchen, lightened up a candle and made the dishes.

He was walking through the streets, listening to his MP3-Player (Regina Spektors' Prisoners was on at this moment) and looking nowhere. He didn't want to see the people. He only wanted to walk. He walked head down and listened to the music.
It was very early. It was around 11 a.m., so it wasn’t really warm. He felt the wind in his hair. It was good. He missed that. He started to feel alive again and he knew that it was the air that
purred life into his veins.

His mother went into his bedroom, opened the window and made his bed. She cleaned everything. She sat on his bed and cried. She wanted to know what was going on with her son.
She wanted to know why he felt in depression. She wanted to know why he doesn’t play football like most guys in his age. She thought that he was gay, but like he his mother knew, that he had been in love as a fifteen year old boy with a classmate, she thought that this wasn’t the reason. She imagined a lot, trying to figure out. She looked at his room, looked at the dark pictures and the candles. She walked to the piano and looked at the keys. And there she was. Looking at those white and black keys and doing nothing.
Thinking about nothing. Only looking and letting the tears drop.

Kamui walked. It started to rain and he went into a church. He sat down on a bench and listened to his music (Vanessa Petruos’ Strange Fruit was on at this moment). He looked at the candles inside the church and his eyes closed.

Day Eleven

2007-11-18T22:51:00.000+01:00

Kamui writes in the Blog:

You know what it is to die?
You know what it is to feel a space between your soul and yourself?
Well... I will tell you something about the death!
I will tell you something about loneliness.
And most of all I will tell you something about PAIN!
Yes!
I'm not telling lies.
It is the most hurting pain you could ever feel!

...

Today I went to the Red Horse to meet Melody.
I walked in. And in the moment I entered that cave with the bright red lights, I already was able to listen to her. I already was able to listen to the sound of her violin.
I walked further and started to see her silhouette, hidden in fog. In the red fog.
I saw her there talking through the violin. I walked to her and she looked at me. She smiled. She looked beautiful in that black dress with those blood red shoes. Her face was illuminated by the red light. I liked that place. It felt mysterious. It felt old and warm. She saluted me and while she started to play another song she walked deeper into that place, through all of those raunchy walls. I didn’t move. I just looked after her. I felt every tune she played inside of my soul. I felt what she wanted to say with that. It was more intense than any word she could have said.
Her red hair was waving around in the air. The red of her hair was deeper. The colour was like fire. I felt it on my face. Her hair waving around. And it was hurting. Her hair was spanking my face. The song talked her soul out. It showed what she was feeling. It wasn’t a song. It was her mind talking. It was her violin being her soul.
I started to cry, because her hair was hurting too much. She was so far away, but still so close to me.
I saw that she was crying, too. She played faster and heavier, from second to second. The motion of her body was like in trance. Her soul was far away. Her mind was blearily. The sound of the violin was loud and dramatic. It was a scream. It was a squeaking between the strings. And then I saw the blood coming out of her nose. A string of the violin started to rupture. The blood was shining in the red light. Her eyes were closed all the time. Her hair was spanking my face. The red light got brighter in a rhythm, similar to the sound of the violin. Her blood dripped on her black dress and the spots seemed like burning. Her hair was spanking my face. I couldn’t stand the violin anymore. Its sound was so sad and furious that it made me scream. I had to scream in that cave. I couldn’t stop my tears anymore. Melody didn’t hear that. We were alone. Her mouth was open. Her breath was heavy. She was dancing. The strings of the violin were too strained. The blood of her nose was inside her mouth. She started to sing. Her hair was wet. She was sweating. Her hair was spanking my face. I wanted to run but I couldn’t. I wanted to stop her. I wanted to help her. She was moving faster. Her violin was screaming to her. It wanted her to stop playing. The second string ruptured. The bow still wasn’t damaged at all. It was red and black. Her tears were mixed with her blood. Her hair was spanking my face. The third string ruptured. She was still playing on the one string. The one string squeaked more than all the four of them together. Melody started to scream. She started to spit blood out of her mouth. Suddenly she screamed my name. The fourth string ruptured. She opened her eyes felt down to the ground.
I was paralyzed in that moment. I was in trance. I didn't know what to do. So I ran outside.
I just ran and cried. I loved her. I was in love with her. I realized that, because I was feeling her soul. I was feeling her hair spanking my face, although she was standing around thirty feet far from me. I ran home. I ran into my bedroom. I grabbed a knife and just stabbed into my piano. I stabbed into the keys. I stabbed into the brown old wood. And I cried. I even screamed. And I fell down. I fell down and started to cry. It was feeling like dead. The blackest death I ever knew. It was full moon. I stood up. And looked at my hurt piano. And then... I stood in front of it and played. It still was sounding good. And I played as much as I could. As loud as I could. And I wasn't myself anymore. And all I wanted... was to die in that moment. And all I did was to cry... and to play. And my piano forgave me.

Day Ten

2007-07-13T18:43:00.000+01:00

On the last school day of his life, Kamui was playing some classical stuff on his piano. He was so happy that he never ever had to go again to that place he hated so much.
He just went to the school principal and told that he wanted to quit school. It was a very spontaneous decision, but it was the thing he wanted to do for a long time. School was lost time, he thought. It was a silly thing for him, because he always wanted to be a professional piano player.
He was searching the score for "Yes, Anastacia" by "Tori Amos" now. The song was his favourite at the moment. He listened to it over and over again. The song took him for a ride and his piano sounded great doing it. It was also time to tune the piano. The sound wasn't really clear, but Kamui liked that. It sounded deep and dark. But not sick. He never would let his piano being sick.
It was 3 p.m. and Kamui went outside to walk around the street. He wanted to start a new life today. He went to the mall and went to the coiffeur. He wanted a new haircut. Now it was a little shorter with a little bit of red in it. Black and Red. Nice colours he thought.
He went to the shops and bought a pink t-shirt with a teddy bear on it. He also bought a new jeans and a new jacket in white. After that he went to the music store again and there was Melody playing violin.
He walked through the shop like if he was guided by the hands of something unnatural. His shyness was blown away suddenly. He could not control his feet. He wanted to stand still, but his legs were walking alone. In front of Melody he looked at her and she looked at him.
"What are you looking at?"
"I am just listening to the voice of music."
Apparently she liked his answer and smiled.
"I don't have time today, but I would like to know you better. You seem interesting to me."
Kamui was blown away.
"Sure. I would love to. Tomorrow?"
"Yeah. Tomorrow sounds good to me. Meet me at the Red Horse and follow the song of the violin."
Melody went outside of the shop. Kamui turned around and walked downstairs. His hands were floating to the keys of the piano in front of him. He felt the keys and started to play "Yes, Anastacia".

Day Nine

2007-06-08T22:47:00.000+01:00

From Kamuis' Diary:

Sometimes there are these melodies inside of someone’s head. And then there is a song that someone ask you to play or even to sing. But you just change the melody. You use the one inside of your head and just sing along the verses of the other song. Maybe a new born dream comes together. An old painting of Picasso or a new work of Royo. You never know what is coming next. You just improve.
Like Melody does. She does it all the time. I feel her melodies inside of my soul. I feel her spell through the music. I even don't know how I was able to "talk" to her. It was flowing out of my fingers. But I'm sure that she understood. I know that she recognized my words through the piano keys. The melody was warm and calm. The lights of that music store - hypnotizing. It just ended up in a play we did. A conversation between violin and piano. A work done by two magicians. Maybe two gods? Maybe two surrealists...
Just those 2 minutes we were playing were like an endless life. Ended up by a fast melancholic fight and her eyes looking at me at the end, as she put down the violin. And the moment I walked out of the store. And she stood there. Melody is the name I gave that amazing redheaded girl. Melody like the force from her fingers. The green color of her eyes. The magic of her light she gave to me.
But still is was strange to walk through the rain yesterday and to think about that song... i mean... it was more a play... a theatrical obsession of notes getting to know each other inside of a tornado. But still this melody is inside of my head. It's still inside of my fingers.
My parents even didn't notice that I stood at home today. But I had a good reason. I had to play it. I played it all morning. I played it all day and even all night. It's 11 p.m. now and I still haven't finished with playing. Even if my fingers are already hurting. But the melody is still inside of my head. Punching against my brain and driving me insane. Still I need to reactivate the play... the fight of violin and piano. The duel. The conversation. The "getting to know each other".
This entrance is dedicated to Melody my sweet diary. For opening a door to another world.
Maybe I go to the mall again to see if she's there. Maybe we could start another conversation...

Day Eight

2007-04-01T20:46:00.000+01:00

It was strange for Kamui to be completely himself. He knew that it has been a long time ago, that he was just himself, without any masks. He tried to talk with some people in the internet. He loved philosophy and put his soul into it, like it was his life. He looked at his nails. They were black. Before Kamui went to school he only had the time to paint them black. Not anything more. Not any color. Nor any sparkling things. Just black.
He was listening to Kelly again. He listened to her everyday. She was his open door to the death. Kamui never forgot the day he saw the pictures in the news about her suicide. She was his favourite singer and from that day on, his nails were black. He drove himself insane after he found out all the hidden messages she left on her last record. He thought that he could have helped her. He knew that something was different after her miscarriages and the death of her husband. He knew that she was unhappy. Even if Kelly was smiling on the pictures and at the TV, he saw her crying. He saw that she wasn't the way she pretended. Her first single from the last album was a cover by Madonna. The title was like a welcome to her suicide: "The power of goodbye". Her last tour was so mysterious and dark that he knew that something was different. And after her death, he started to drive himself insane.
His nails were still black as he woke up. He felt asleep in front of his computer. He looked at the clock in his bedroom. It was 2 a.m. He took the red coat that his grandmother offered him for his last birthday and went outside. He went down the street and didn't notice any other person. In his world he was alone. There were those entire skyscraper and all that lights. All these typical Japanese things. But he just wanted to walk around. Breathe a little bit of that polluted air of this big industrial city. He loved the lights of the industries. But he hated the commercial lights. He was walking around like if there wasn't an end. Then he came to a place he never had seen. Kamui felt kind of a warm air in there. It was a strange feeling. But he knew that he knew it. This feeling wasn't strange at all. He knew that he was at home. His own home. The home he has created in his dreams. He walked through that place and he knew exactly where he was. He knew this place like his own house. He passed by the old chairs and by the big brown couch and sat at the old white piano. He sat there in this little forgotten corner of the city and started to play against the noise of the Japanese night. Ding Dong. Ding Dong. He played and played on that old white piano and forgot about the time. He just played in his red coat. Underneath the coat he was naked. But the coolness of the city wasn't as cold as the warmth of his little dreaming corner. He just played...
"I hate to hear you scream dad." But of course he knew that his father wasn't interested in knowing that. He knew that his father wouldn't stop to scream. But Kamui was customized by that. His parents just didn't know how to talk. They screamed. Kamui thought about the night and about the old white piano. He wanted to play as loud as in the night. Maybe he wouldn't have to hear the noise of his parents anymore. He hated it.
Kamui was at the mall. He needed a new pair of shoes. He knew exactly which ones and where to buy them. But she just didn't let him. There she was again. The redheaded girl with the mysterious aura. She looked at him from that music store. She was playing a violin. He just fell into another world. He fell again into his dream world called "Utopia". A place without problems. His own Eden. Without screaming parents. The only thing making noises were pianos.
She was playing a violin. And he knew that she was playing for him. He saw it in her deep green eyes. As green as the deep green light.

Day Seven

2007-03-11T20:26:00.000+01:00

After School Kamui went into a shop. He wanted to buy a new mirror. He couldn't live without one. It was his door to another world. His need to look into his eyes was to big to forget and abandon.
Today he was completely dressed in black. Also his make-up was black. Only his face was white. His eyes and nails were black. He never has worn black lipstick. Kamui thought that that looked dirty and foolish. But he often changed his mind. Kamui remembered that he used to put on black lipstick last year to do some pictures at a castle.
On the way to his house he stopped at a place he never had seen before. It was a wall of a house with a graffiti on it. The graffiti showed a happy boy which was playing with a purple butterfly. Kamui wasn't interested in graffiti. But this one was fascinating. He loved the details of the boy. Of the butterfly. The eyes of that boy just showed something that Kamui never had seen before. Or even knew that it existed. They showed peace. Even if it was just a picture, a drawing, they showed something that Kamui didn't believe in. Peace was something unreachable for Kamui. It was an illusion. It was a dream in a polluted world. A world that was colder as ice.
He came home and putted his new mirror to the wall in his bedroom. It was a normal mirror with a black frame. He looked at himself and tried to find his peace. He tried to see something quite similar in his eyes. But there was nothing. All he saw was a hole. A big dark nothing.
His mother came in. As she was crying, she said: "James died today." And his only reaction was a silent breath. A silent movement of his heart. He went to sleep. Even if it was just five p.m.

In Memory of Jens Ebner (08. 1989 - 03. 2007)

Day Six

2007-02-22T19:31:00.000+01:00

He remembered that before he woke up he saw that light again in a dream. He saw the light getting brighter and warmer, even hot. It was the reason why he woke up. It was too hot to sleep. He couldn't stand the height of it. And as he woke up, there were does eyes in front of him.
Kamui never thought that he was crazy. He knew it. He knew that he wasn't normal. He wasn't normal at all. He always said that it was the guilt of his parents. "You are not insane Kamui. You are a completly normal boy." The words of his mother were the same. All days. From this day on he promised himself to keep his secrets for himself. He thought that his mother don't need to know them. She even didn't knew about his cutting. Even in summer when he used T-shirt, she never saw the scars on his arms. But Kamui accepted the ignorance of his mother. It didn't bother him.
He went to school again and went to the toilet. He thought about his life and about his death. About suicide. He thought that noone would notice it. He thought that it would be something nice. That it would free him. But Kamui just laughed at his own sillyness. There were so much things he wanted to do. So many things he wanted to see in life.
He went outside and saw her. There was that little redhead. She looked prettier than in that church. He couldn't realize that she was at his school. But she was. She went to the lookers and put a black book inside of it. Her looker was the number 318. She looked so beautiful. She was wearing a black skirt, a white jacket and some black boots. And always that red lipstick. It looked like blood. He loved her bracelets and her collar. Everything she was wearing was kind of a dirty silver. It almost looked black. She turned around. She was new at that school. He knew that. He would have seen her before. She walked slowly and selfconfident. Not like other new people. Mostly there were shy. But she just walked like a goddess. And every other one knew that she was different. Every other schoolmate looked at her like if she was a celebrity. And she looked like that. She looked like a mixture of Rose McGowan and Marilyn Monroe. She was the most beautiful girl he ever saw.
The schoolbell rang and he went into his class. As he looked out of the window he saw a crow standing on the ground. He looked at it and suddenly the crow fell down. It was dead. Kamui was shocked by that. He started to cry and ran out of the classroom.
He went into the toilet again, took out his razorblade of his pocket and cut. Cut. Cut. Cut. Cut. And cut his arm again. Cutting wasn't pain for him, because he couldn't feel the pain anymore. But it was his imposition. It was his scream of help. He never used patches or something else. He just let the blood ran out of his wounds.
He sat down on the school-corridor. After class nobody looked at him.
Kamui went home and sat on his piano. He started to play Mozart and Beethoven afterwards. He took his polaroid camera and took a picture of his arm. One more on his wall of pain. One more to look at before going to sleep. He took his clothes out and stood in front of the mirror. He looked at himself. His body. His face. His hair. His arms. His scars. His eyes (and all the lies). He screamed. And with a punch the mirror was broken. And he looked down to the pieces of his mirror and started to cry.

Day Five

2007-02-18T13:11:00.000+01:00

From Kamuis' Diary:

I am completely paralyzed by this light that I saw yesterday. I totally can't imagine what it is. I am trying to figure out some theories. I am trying to see something good in it. I listened to a song today. "Conversations with my 13 year old self" by Pink. Probably everything will get better like she say in this song. Is this light an antidepressant... or even hope? Green is the colour of hope. But in my life there's no hope anymore. It died... it went away. I wish I could crawl. I wish I could go somewhere. I wish I could be in a world that I imagined so often. Today I went to a catholic chapel after school. It was a wonderful ambience. I focused the candle lights. I focused the saints on the walls. I focused Jesus. It was strange for me. But it felt warm on my skin. Maybe the first time in my life.
I remember one girl there sitting in this chapel. She had long red hair and a beautiful white skin. She was praying and crying. Her clothes were completely black and she had a red lipstick. I just sat there and looked at her. And then she turned her head around but it was like if I wasn’t there. It was like if she was alone in the chapel. Everything around me turned dead this moment. I felt my breathing getting faster and heavier. And her eyes just looked through me. Then I turned my head around and went away.
At home I was alone. My grandmother felt bad, so my parents took her to the hospital. I shut the lights down and put on some candles and joss sticks. There I was lying on the ground listening to Tori Amos and looking to the roof. Thinking about myself. Thinking about the green light. Thinking about that memorable and quite spooky redhead.

Currently Listening: Tori Amos - Scarlet's Walk

Day Four

2007-02-17T13:46:00.000+01:00

Kamui was walking downstairs in his school as he saw that bright light in the left corner. He was wondering what it was and why all the others ignored it. He never believed in God or any saints. But he believed in the supernatural after the death. He believed that the souls of the Dead would still be on earth. That they would send symbols or any other things to the people that needed help or were in agony. Kamui's steps got heavy and slowly as he was looking to that constant getting brighter green light. His schoolmates were looking at him and also some of them laugh about the strange look he had upon his face. As he was walking towards that light he suddenly saw himself in it. He saw that his blue eyes suddenly have gotten green. It was extremely strange for him. But in the moment he tried to reach the light it suddenly disappeared like fog. As he turned around, his teacher stood beside him. "What are you doing here Kamui? You already should be sitting in your classroom!" Even at home he just thought about that light. He tried to find something on the internet. Some people that tell something about strange bright green lights. But he didn't found anything. Probably he was the first. But he wanted to keep it as a secret. He never wanted to tell it to anyone. It was his secret. It was his treasure.
He went downstairs to his mother and helped her with the housework. He took a duster and started in his room. His mother came inside and told him: "You are so beautiful Kamui. Why do you always look so sad? Why don't you smile sometimes? What's happened with that little happy face I've known?" "It's nothing mother. Just some teenage problems I'm having. Nothing special" His voice was very clear and calm. It was like the voice of his mother. His mother spoke with an accent. She was half Spanish and half Brazilian. His father was half Japanese and half German. So Kamui was a very exotic boy with a Latin touch. Something that was very rare in Japan. He never thought he was pretty. Far from it! He even hated his physical uniqueness.
His mother stood there in his room looking at him. She prayed every night to God for his son. She suffered so much by seeing him so sad every day. Kamui went outside of the room and went downstairs. His mother didn't move. She just started to cry. Kamui was accustomed to it.
He closed the toilet door and stood there. In front of the mirror again, he looked at himself. He never thought that he looked Japanese. He looked just like his mother with blue eyes, black hair and a little bit more masculine. He never has had a girlfriend or a boyfriend. He was bisexual.
But nobody knew that. But who cares? He even don't have friends. He wanted to have someone. He wanted to know someone like him. An outcast that doesn't care. Someone interested in arts and with knowledge about subnormal things. The only thing Kamui liked in his appearance was his tendency in “emo” styling. He loved his long hair over his eyes and his black and pink clothes. He also loved his lip-piercing. He made it himself three years ago as he saw his favourite singer Kelly with it. He went outside of the bathroom and went upstairs again into his room. His mother was cooking and he was sitting in front of his computer, watched a porn movie and masturbated. (In between: What else do you do when you're single and 18 years old?) As he finished he took a Kleenex and put his pants on. He put the lights on and started to play an improvisation on his keyboard. He adjusted a very "spacy" sound that sounded a little bit like a damaged synthesiser. And he started to play. Fast. Very fast. Suddenly there was that light again. And he fell down to the ground.

Day Three

2007-02-13T14:57:00.000+01:00

It was Monday and Kamui was sleeping. He was completely soaked with sweat, because he had that dream again: Kamui couldn't stop to run away from the people behind him. He was running through the forest, but the people were coming. But Kamui woke up. He always woke up on the same time. The part he fell.
His alarm clock rang. It was 06 a.m. He had to get up. Kamui went into the bathroom and took a shower. It was probably one of the parts of the day Kamui loved much. He loved to feel the water rippling down his skin. The part he loved most was when the water fell into his face. It was liberating. He felt free. He always wanted to fly. He always wanted to swim. But he never wanted to be a human being. When he was a child, he always pretended to be a ghost. Every time he could, he was hiding from his parents. He did hide himself behind the sofa, behind the TV and even under his bed. In the age of 10 he found an old radio. This radio was damaged. He could hear the telephone calls from his neighbours. Kamui was always in his bedroom with that radio-thing. Always after he got home from school he ran into his bedroom, sat unto the floor and put the radio on. He had a very lonely childhood. His parents often tried to talk to him. They told him to play with the kids from the neighbourhood. But he never wanted. He always was occupied with his radio or with his drawing or writing. Kamui was always the “other boy”. The strange one with scrubby black hair and the “The Cure” shirts (his favourite Band in that time (in between he was only around 10 years old)). But he never cared. While the others were playing football, he was drawing wonderlands that he dreamed of. He always wanted to live far away from the place he was living. He remembered one time, that he had been to Europe with his parents. He always just has known Japan. He loved Europe so much, that he told his parents that he will move to Europe when he would be an adult. He loved the forest, so Germany was a place he would love to live. He had been to the south of Germany and never forgot the big mountains and the trees he saw.
“Who is there?” asked Kamui when somebody knocked at the door of the bathroom. “It’s Dad. Have you forgotten the time? You have to leave home in 10 min and you’re still under the shower.” Kamui just jumped out of the shower, put his clothes on and painted his face with a little bright powder, some dark rouge and a lot for his eyes. The colours he used for his eyes were white, black and blue. He loved the combination on his eyelids.
Just put on his Chucks (he had pink ones) and run to the bus station.
It hasn’t been the first time that Kamui forgot the time under the shower. He just continued dreaming. Sometimes he came out of his illusions, but other times they were so beautiful that he never wanted to wake up of his day dreaming. Again inside of the bus he just took a seat and looked outside the window. Kamui never was the type of person that was looking around to find someone that he knew. He always thought that he would be seeing that people a lot of times. What mattered to him was to find out new things on the street. He tried to find some hidden creatures out on the sky or some new interesting and mysterious people in the middle of the buildings.
The bus stopped at his school. Kamui slowly went out of it. He hated to go to school. And today he had to write a test. He just didn’t want. He hadn’t learned enough. So he knew that he would get a bad mark. But physics was someone he never had been interested in.
He took a seat in the classroom were he would have maths. But he wasn’t concentrated on numbers. What interested him was something he was seeing outside. There was a young pregnant woman. She was probably waiting for the bus or something else. He just was thinking about the child. How it would be. Will it have good marks? Will it be interested in physics or maths? Will it be different, too? Probably like me?
All day in school was just like a wasted day for him. He wasn’t concentrated at all. Everything he needed he did at home. He already read every book of the year.
After the physics test and another 8 hours in school, he went to the graveyard. It was Monday, so it was the graveyard day. One day he had been to this graveyard and he saw a grave of a girl that died very young. On the gravestone there was something written, that Kamui never forgot and that brought him to tears that day: “In this garden I’m waiting silently for the souls of my parents”. Since that day, Monday was the day he went to that little girl and stood there for exactly 1 hour. He just stood there and thought about that little girl and her parents. He thought about how she may have died, how the parents are and so on. The death was a big puzzle for Kamui, his favourite mystery. He started to be interested in it in the age of 9 when his grandfather died. He bought books about it and listened to music that talked about that subject.
At 16 p.m. he was at home. Finally! He ate something little. He didn’t liked to eat, so that was something he just tried to do as fast as possible and as less as possible. Eating for him was just necessary, neither fun nor anything else. He sat on the piano and played a song by “Tori Amos”. He played it 10 times. It was called “Honey”. It was the way he felt today. The melody just represented his feelings. He was one creature with the music. He felt like the music. After that he went into his bedroom and did his homework. “Tori Amos“ was playing out of his computer again. It was one of those days in which he just wanted to hear her songs. Kamui had phases in which he was in completely different moods. But he liked this “Amos-mood”. It was probably the calmest. After he finished his homework, he lied on the balcony and watched to the heaven. He tried to think about another world. He thought about another life. He thought about killing life. He thought about killing his life. It started to rain.
“Kamui! Come inside” It’s raining!” his mother screamed. Kamui always asked himself why people warn others when it’s raining even when they are outside, too. He always asked himself this kind of things. He went inside and watched TV with his mother.

Day Two

2007-02-11T20:53:00.000+01:00

From Kamuis’ Diary:

I feel caught inside a cage. Everything I do is bad. Everything is so silly. I’m not feeling alive today. Today I’m feeling just so skinny. I feel that my mind is driving me insane. It is like my bones will break in each second I breathe. I can’t think normally. I completely forgot who I am. Today I played the piano again and it was kind of scary. I played a very old song and it was so familiar. It was like if I had composed it in a past life. This is so scary. I feel so scared today. Everything is haunting me. I see that I’m getting weak. I just need to go to sleep.
I love Sundays. I can stay at home. But tomorrow is Monday. Another day that I feel left alone. I hate to go to school. I just hate all those people that are staring at me. And it’s the same… everyday. But well… I know how to put on my happy mask…Goodnight my diary. Farewell… maybe tomorrow I won’t wake up. Pray for me. I need it.

Currently Listening: The Gift – Laura

Day One

2007-02-11T01:45:00.000+01:00

It was around 14 p.m. as he came out of the shower. He took his towel and wiped his body. Kelly was his favourite singer and he was always listening to her. He loved the sound of her voice and the potential she had. Some of her lyrics were like the words he wanted to say to everybody. But he always was scared of that. He was too faint to stand in front of the people that he hated and to say what he thought about them. The CD was over. So he took his underwear and put it on. He could see his scars that still were on his arms. He hated them, because they reminded him everything he has passed. But he also knew, that he still wanted to hurt himself. He still enjoyed the memories of his blood floating down his arms. He still felt the pain from that moments. It was like a bad spell that hunted him through all the days. "Why?" he asked to himself as he was staring at himself. He just asked why everything was the way it was. He was looking at himself and asked why it was so difficult to be himself. Why he always had to pretend to be someone else. "Why can't I stop to fake a smile?" It was one of these days in which he stood at home. Nowhere to go. He loved this days, because he knew that he could stay with the people he liked. His mother or maybe another relative. He knew that he wouldn't see any strange people. Anyone he didn't like. His mother hated the way he styled his hair. So these days where wonderful for her, because her son hadn't anything in it. It was just his pure hair. But he couldn't stay without anything of his mask for a long time. He never was without make-up or anything inside of his hair. He needed his mask to feel alive. He needed to have those little things, so he could lose his fears. He went into his room after eating breakfast and downloaded new videos of Kelly from the internet. Her new tour just ended and he was happy to see some new clips from the concert he had been to. "I thought you have to learn for school Kamui?" "Just a second. I'm just finishing something on my computer." His mother was very preoccupied with Kamui, because his marks at school weren't good at all. The problem was also, that he didn't learned enough. The only thing he was interested in were arts. He sang all the time. Sometimes he sat in front of the piano and played another song on it. He always wanted to be a musician. And he knew that he could become that. But now he knew also that he would have to learn. He grabbed his school things and started by doing his French stuff and then he learned physics. He never came along well with his new teachers. He hated his new school and he was very unhappy with that. But he knew that he would have to finish it. Kamui was one of those people that couldn't be concentrated for a long time on one thing. So he was always walking from place to place during his studies. He loved to eat chocolate cake and to drink water. And while he was eating his chocolate cake, drinking the water (in between: it was water with a taste of green apples), studying physics and listening to movie soundtracks, he was thinking about what he could write into his diary when the day would have finished. It was a simple black diary without extraordinary things or something else. He never went to sleep without writing into it. Even if it was just one sentence. It was like eating. It was his breathing. He sat on the sofa and watched a little bit TV while his mother and his aunt were talking about some new recipes. All those physical things were stuck inside his head and he knew that he wouldn't be able to write a good mark on the test on Monday. He knew that he would be the first to go out of class with a sad look upon his face. But he just kept on thinking about his hopefully future: his music career. He always was imagining about being on the stage and sing his own songs. His lyrics mostly were a little bit depressive. But that's the way Kamui was. He was a boy that was thinking about everything. Not just the good things on world. He liked subjects like religion or psychology. The hours were passing while he was watching TV. And so he just went again into his bedroom and talked with some people on the internet. The clock rang. It was midnight. He was nearly falling asleep. But now it was time to grab his diary and to write everything in it. He just started to write. His parents already were in bed. They already were sleeping. And now it was time for him to sleep. It was 01:35 a.m. He wanted to sleep. He was too tired. He went into his bed. Put the lights on (he was scared of the darkness) and closed his eyes.

Prologue

2007-02-09T18:13:00.000+01:00

...

I look at myself.

I look into the mirror.

I see him there in front of me…

How dare I would like to break in front of him.

Because everything is just a big lie.

Everything I do is my death.

It’s my suicide at intervals.

…

Diary Of Tears

(The Story About Kamui)

...

Welcome to a new chapter!
My name is Alex Page.
In this Blog I want to publish the story
about the boy named Kamui.

I hope that you will enjoy it
and I hope that you can relate
with some of the situations
that Kamui will pass through.

Kamui =
"the one that represents the force of God"
or
"the one that hunts the force of God"
(jap.)