A Certain Someone/The Only One

"Wasn't there a saying that goes like this, that when you and someone are no longer overly courteous, able to share both troubles and honour with them, you are friends."

I first discovered this story through Facebook reels. I got curious about the interactions of the main couple from the reels and I think I was feeling the chemistry of the actors as well, so I checked, and it was available on Netflix. Down the rabbit hole I went, as I usually do with any story I like, and consumed the novel right after finding out the series was an adaptation of an original work. The story did not disappoint. 

I was going back and forth with the series and the novel until I eventually decided I would finish the series first since all the episodes were finally up. I did not know that it was only the first season, but after seeing the number of chapters in the novel I had a hunch that it wouldn’t carry on till the end of the book. What I did not expect was for the series to cut on such a cliffhanger that there was no way I would continue on living without knowing what happens next. 

I read the novel slowly until I was hooked and couldn’t stop. The narrative used was pretty plain and basic because it was only a fan translation that I read, however, the plot made up for that along with a bunch of heartfelt lines and dialogues that I appreciate the translator for doing their best to get the author’s thoughts across. I have posted screenshots of those on my stories on fb and every time they pop up I am convinced that these two idiots deserve to get married, and they are married in my head. 

My favorite moments would be the parallels between self confession of the two characters or the realization that they like the other person. This is followed by yet another parallel when they realize things are different because the other person is around and this time, they would be happier and not feel alone. 

This story is all about the height of youth, the stupid idiotic things teenagers do in the name of rebellion, self-discovery, trauma and most especially, teenage love. The two characters started off as being strangers, to rivals, to literally brothers until they discover that their feelings can’t be compared to brotherly love. It’s something more and dangerous, but they’re youths and boys and at that time, it seemed like danger was less important. Danger for themselves that is. 

When it comes to the well-being of the other person, they’d literally sacrifice their own reputation just so they wouldn’t get hurt because they know that they have been hurting enough from growing up in a home with an absent parent while the other is already out of the picture. Sheng Wang was cautious about what other people think of Jiang Tian, while Jiang Tian was so observant about how Sheng Wang would be sensitive about how to get along with everyone else that he would try his best to take care of him even though he always had a hard time expressing emotions. Ain’t that effing precious? I’m tearing up just thinking about it. 

But then again as all teens do, they have to grow up. They would be faced with the fact that things don’t always go their way. However, when you grow up you also realize that you could have had your way, it’s just that you let other people dictate that for you. 

I really like the scene where Jiang Tian made his mom realize what she was doing wrong. The whole issue of being unable to accept the fact that her son was gay and that he eventually got into a relationship with the boy who was supposed to be becoming her stepson was no doubt shattering. But then again, parents neglected to think about what these kids felt. How about what they were struggling with? They buried their entire identity to please their parents until they could not even manage to go against them or rebel and simply went along with no questions and yet with no resolve as well. Sheng Wang turned into a literal robot when as a teenager, he was haughty, obnoxious, and a young master who liked to make people see that he always gets what he wants. 

Jiang Tian’s mother wondered if he could have been like Sheng Wang under the same circumstances, growing up with a loving mother who left not because of choice but because of the cruelty of death, rather than a mother who was always at work and a father who betrayed them. But then Jiang Tian slammed her with the words, “Well have you seen Sheng Wang lately? He doesn’t laugh or joke around anymore. Congratulations, you raised another Jiang Tian.” 

That was freaking painful. Jiang Tian grew up to be an emotionless teenager because of neglect and having his mother get told that she was one of the reasons why Sheng Wang changed into being like that too was a punch to the gut. This was the only moment where Jiang Tian talked sense to his mother as well, so I was rolling in my head. 

The story’s main point aside from youth was the reality of people being homophobic. What was impactful about this however was the fact that it was only their parents that didn’t accept them. Parents who only want the best for their children have this perfect image in their heads about what should happen. But when that image was torn apart, they forced their kids to tape it back together, follow the path to happiness that everyone else is taking. It was only after they saw for themselves that their kids ended up being miserable that they realized how wrong they were. They weren’t responsible for their kids’ happiness. They can figure that out on their own. 

The story circles back, from youth to growing, to finding the joy of youth once again as Sheng Wang and Jiang Tian take back the years that were stolen from them. Their do-over. I love how they fill in the gap of the years with Jiang Tian’s birthday. Their youth ended on his 18th birthday when they were forced to be apart, but on his 24th birthday at the moment of their reunion, Sheng Wang started saying Happy 19th birthday first, then 20th until the present age. They literally celebrated all the birthdays they couldn’t. (Note that Jiang Tian never celebrated his birthday after all those years because it will bring back the memory of the broken birthday cake, the cake that was supposed to have little figures of his family including Sheng Wang.) 

And then they kissed, and then they made love, and then they lived happily ever after, or so I hope they will.

I can’t get over this story, but I have babbled long enough. I have probably spoiled you a lot but hear me out and read this book and then you can join me in waiting for the second season of the series. (This is me telling you that we should feel pain together. :>)

BLUE'S CORNER

    I read this book in 2024 so I'm a sort of a year late in writing this corner. Of course, the main review of the story is from around the time I read it so those above are may raw emotions after finishing this.

    I am patiently waiting for the second season of the live action adaptation of this book. All the amazing bits are on the second part of the story after all and I can't wear to see that raw on screen.

    I had a bit of a hard time thinking about what to share on this corner this time. While I really like the book, and I can go on and on about the good points of the book, I was a bit stumped on how to relate it to myself. It had great points considering childhood trauma, homophobia, abuse and neglect and had the right amount of comedy and romance. Well, I guess I can dwell on the romance part a bit?

    Basically, this is a high school romance... Sometimes I kind of wished I had that experience, in a sort of an ideal way. I doubt I'd change things as they are now, but it's one of those clichés that are nice to have, just in thought. Like a memory I never had.

    The two characters are too pure for their own good making them the perfect victims of abuse and trauma, story wise. This purity in character makes their romance, in turn, sweet and genuine. Although they make it seem like they don't deserve the love they're getting, that thought in itself shows how genuine their feelings really are. Added to that fact is the way they treat each other not just as lovers but as best friends and brothers-in-arms, since that's how they're relationship started and bloomed after all.

    My lover is my best friend. Someone who can listen to my worries and make me laugh when I need it. Someone who can give me the words I need when I need. Basically, someone who's there for you. Isn't that image lovely.

    I feel a bit luvky somehow.

    So, there, we have the romance bit, I guess next would be personality wise?

    I think I'm like a mix of both Sheng Wang and Jian Tian. I am both a chronic people pleaser yet at the same time, someone who has a hard time expressing my love or care to someone so I resort to giving them little gifts, may that be physical, digital or mere reels on the internet. It's hard for me to say it outright... Yet ironically, I think I'm someone who wears their heart on their sleeve. Is that possible? Being able to be clear as day yet mysterious at the same time? I don't know what kind of paradox I'm turning myself to be.

    Anyway, yes, I relate to Sheng Wang who unconsciously thinks of what others might think of me despite saying otherwise that I don't care, and I also relate to Jiang Tian who's quiet demeanor leads to him being misunderstood. [Gonna send my adoption papers. They can be my parents now hahaha.]

    All in all, I would not be able to get over loving this story, these characters and if you ever decide to read it, I hope you love them too :>

    

某某 (MOU MOU)

A CERTAIN SOMEONE/THE ONLY ONE

by Mu Su Li

     PERSONAL                                  

RATING:                9/10

_____________________________________________ Thank you for reading ^^

artwork attached at the cover made by yours truly

[BLUE'S CORNER]: struggling with anxiety

 

I have always been known as the shy scared cat of the family. I don't remember when it all started, but my oldest memories show me nothing else but staying cooped up inside the house and avoiding people as much as possible. It's not something I'm proud of, rather something that brought me nothing but trouble in the past and even know. 

I have wasted a lot of opportunities and chances because of it. Reliving it now by writing this, I hope I'd be able to manage it more. 

A CHILD WHO CAN'T SPEAK

I hated talking to people. 

ON the first year of kindergarten, the teacher asked us our names on the firs day of class. Fortuantely, she went to each of our seats and asked us one by one. Unfortunately for me, however, even that wasn't enough to make me feel relaxed. When it was my turn to say my name, I had to say it twice and have to whisper close to her ear cause she couldn't hear me. My voice was too small... 

It was hard to speak out my mind when even answering simple question I couldn't use my voice properly. 

Neighbors would ask me where my mom went when I stayed at home and she isn't around but then I would only nod or shake my head. 

We had a small store inside the house when I was kid but I don't remember ever helping to sell anything there. I would watch over it when my mom would fall asleep, but every time someone comes trying to buy something I would always ask for my mother, call for her until she wakes up and do the work.

I'm part of a church who has this very tight knit and social community. Everyone has to participate and be a part of the service eventually. I didn't want to be part of it at all. I have to stand in front of the whole church and I hated taht. Although it was a small church, I still couldn't do it. I would cry and throw a tanrtrum. The grown-ups would laugh while my mom scolded me, but I couldn't help but think they might have hated me for it. 

It went on and on until I entered elementary school. The girl who doesn't speak. The girl who always reads and keeps to herself. The girl who barely raises her hand. The girl who didn't stand out. And so and so.

A VOICE THAT CAN BARELY BE HEARD

A friend told me that my voice is too soft. They thought that was just a defensive mechanism, and perhaps it somehow is, but they also told me that when I started talking in front of class my voice still wasn't that loud. I would look like I'm having a hard time and that I was doing my best to speak loud but it wasn't enough, it was pitiful, I didn't really realize that it was like that.

But I was sure my voice was too soft. Sometimes, it was more the workings of the mind. It just won't come out sometimes.

When someone helps me, my voice would strain to say thank you. It was like I never said it out all. I would always say sorry even if I didn't do anything wrong, but my voice would be too small I might as well have not said it. 

There's something about using it that scares me. I worry that the words wouldn't come out right when I say it that in the end I wouldn't be able to say it at all. That if I ever make a mistake no one would be able to notice cause it would seem like I never said anything. It's a double edged sword and it has always hit me. 

HIDING FROM THE SPOTLIGHT

I couldn't stand in the limelight for long. It felt wrong for me, like I didn't belong there. At the same time, being in the light means every one will see if I ever make a mistake. 

Deep down, I probably liked the attention. It's ironic that I couldn't stand it. Just one of the ironies that I don't understand about myself. 

So, as much as possible I never volunteered. I didn't raise Mt hand even though I knew the answer. I would hide in the corner, hide in my room and choose a place where I wouldn't be seen, Maybe that's why I liked sharing stuff on the internet that much. I could pretend that people didn't notice me because the attention is fleeting. One react, one read and the attention is done. I'm not forcing anyone to look as well. One of the other reasons to it. If I stand in the spotliht, it feels like I'm holding a sign that says look at me. Isn't that too overbearing? I didn't want to be a bother to anyone.

It's the aame with sending a dm to someone as well. That notification bell that holds my name is like a spotlight I aimed at myself. It's too bright for me, like the person is staring directly at where I stand, making me think about running away. 

HIDING FROM BRIGHT OPPORTUNITIES

I could list a ton of chances I let pass and it would take me a whole day and a sleepless night of thinking and sifting through the memories of an embarrassing past that I don't want to revisit, so let's not.

Let's leave it with the fact that I could have achieved fat more if only my head didn't stop me with all the nonsense it conjured up.

IT'S GETTING SERIOUS WHEN...

Have you ever starved yourself because you can't bear to line up behind a ton of people inside the fast food chain? Have you gone through all the pain of figuring out how a project is to be done because you can't simply talk to the teacher? Have you ever pass up a number of fun activities cause you just can' handle the thought of being surrounded by strangers?

And so on... And so on...

Let's pretend you have no idea why I asked these questions. 

But yes, it's troublesome. 

STRUGGLES OF BEING AN ANXIOUS CREATIVE

I love writing. I love art. I love it when people can express their intertest on the things I create. 

But...! 

I hate that I have to initiate  socializing in order to build a follwing and an audience. Advertising is the worst of the worst. It drains me a lot It's ironic considering. I'm studying Advertising as a part of my major in college. 

Sometimes I wish I could just focus on creating and not on the advertising aspect but this is reality and that's not going to happen unless I hire someone to handle it for me. That's too much for me as well. It's hard to work with someone because then. I'd have to make sure that I reach expectations.

Well, it goes to show how it's I probably won't survive if I keep this up.

I think I've improved compared to before, but even now I still have the worries that put me in a lot of trouble most of the time 

To my fellow anxious peeps, let's hand on a little longer.

__________________ Thank you so much for reading ^^
Sketch made by yours truly

[BLUE'S CORNER]: making the best out of being a reader and a writer

 

I don't know when it all started, but before I knew it, I was noticing how I was and has been exhibiting symptoms of social anxiety. I say exhibiting symptoms because I can't say that I actually have one. They always say to never self-diagnose and so I don't. But I can't deny the obvious symptoms. They're already there. Besides, I did hear that anyone can have the symptoms and they're not limited to those who have social anxiety. I guess what's left now is a diagnosis. 

But going away to the topic of my mental diagnosis, or the lack thereof, I would like to share in this entry how I've been coping. There are these new realizations that I have had as I grew out of being a stuck-up hopeless teenager and into a not so stuck up but not yet hopeful young adult. 

I HAVE ALWAYS BEEN A READER.

There's nothing wrong with being a reader. According to various studies it is a pretty good trait for a person to be. I might be acting like a bad researcher by not citing those studies I'm talking about, but you get the idea. Reading is a good habit, and I am glad I am one. 

But recently I found out that I've been relying on it too much. I don't know if it's bad, what I do know is that there's something not quite right. When you feel like you always want to be the observer in a story or maybe just one of the characters at the mercy of the novelist where you don't have to worry about making decisions, I think there's something wrong. Or maybe that's normal! I don't know. But there's more to me than just this. 

I LOVE STORIES.

Going by the track of reading, I soon realized that my love for it solely stems from my interest in stories. Eventually I came to seek them out beyond books which lead me to films, comics, manga, podcasts and many other forms of media that involves some storytelling element. That's one of my reasons to play certain games as well, why I often play otome and visual novels and the like. 

My interest in stories drew out my lack of interest in making something of my own in the real world. It was always easier to stay as an audience and never part of the cast, so I was always thinking, why bother? I don't have to be the main character when there's obviously people who already decided they will take that role for themselves. I'm fine in the sidelines. I don't have to make a story arc and make routes like those MCs in otome games. I don't have to choose which lines to say. I would, instead, not say any lines at all. 

But of course, real life doesn't work that way. We're always a part of the cast and our roles are always changing. No one is exactly a mob character forever. In fact, I don't think anyone can be a mob character in their own life. (Or maybe that's just how I see it now.)

IN THE END, I WAS LURED INTO BEING A WRITER. 

There's something about stories and books that when you're getting really into them you start wanting to make something of your own. That especially when you don't get the ending you want from a story, or you don't have enough of the bits and pieces that happened within the story because the author did not reveal them to you. Those thoughts came to me a little later, specifically the thought of fanfics. 

What came to me at the middle of my reading journey however was the urge to make my own characters move the way I want them to. I want make this whole new world for every fictional entity that lurked in my brain and somehow stayed there to bother me with their chaotic life. I say chaotic because every piece of their narratives scattered. I guess it was my job to make their ramblings make sense. (Unfortunately, I had my own ramblings, so it made hard for me to make time and jot down the the ideas that should've been plotted as a part of a book or short story. I am still struggling with this through this day.)

BUt yes, to cut things short I became a wannabe writer, through various attempts of failure of course. I tried once as an elementary student but then I was so frustrated at the fact that I couldn't get the right words out that I tore my paper and threw it out. High school attempts were more fruitful. It also helped that I was beginning to read more complicated books than before. 

SO HERE I GO TRYING TO COME CONVEY THIS CONCLUSION

I am a reader. I am also a writer. If I didn't like being the main character and making decisions on my own, then what if I treat myself as a separate character and make choices as if I'm writing and plotting out this story on my laptop? Does that make sense or am I going way overboard with crazy?

I don't know. Recently I felt more loose and less anxious because I have detached myself from my decisions. Not detached as in I don't really care what happens anymore, but more on the sense that I'm thinking in a more outward view than just focusing on what's in front of me. That has always been a struggle for me, trying to get off the loop of self-hatred and the baseless idea that I will always make the wrong decisions. It's the anxiety and fear like every time. 

But with an outward view, like looking over a set of a play instead of being inside of one of the characters, I'd be more aware of what's happening around me instead of just inside me. Again, does that make sense?

I just want to be braver and do the things I have always wanted without being anxious. (In fact, that's what I always do with the characters that I wrote. I always write them into situations where they would do the things I would've if I wasn't crippled by anxiety.)

And now here I am, slightly a changed version of what I was before... Hopefully for the better. 

_________________________ Thank you for reading ^^

featured picture doodled by yours truly

[BLUE'S CORNER]: me and the topic of productivity

 

I haven't written anything personal for the last few months. This entry is even the first for this year, 2024. So many things have changed in contrast with 2023 and I could go on and on with those said changes and maybe I won't be able to finish. So I'm not going to talk about it (for now).  

I have been reading and watching a bunch of books and films these days but I haven't found anything that has struck me like those stories I have already added to this blog. I might get another one of those soon, hopefully soon, so I can have this blog up and running again. 

In compensation, I would like to continue making more entries for my rambles. This is my personal space so I think I'm free to spill my guts here. As sanitary as possible, of course. Don't worry. I'm not gonna tell anything that specific. I'm not that brave. 

For now, here's the topic: PRODUCTIVITY. 

MY RELATIONSHIP WITH PRODUCTIVITY. 

In the past, I haven't been that particular about what I can make and what I can contribute with the time that I have in my hands. I was simply doing what was asked of me and that's it. The rest, I do what I want. 

But there's something about growing up that makes you realize you don't exactly have all the time in the world. That realization makes you want to act as if it's a rule you have to follow. By the time I found a skill I could hone and polish, I was trying to do that almost every day. 

That was most of the pandemic time. I can say I'm proud of the writing I have accomplished during those months. I even completed two novels! A number of my achievements that I always try to remind myself cause sometimes I forget. 

Sometimes it slips our mind that we have already gone far because we feel like it's not far enough. Should probably pat myself on the back and look back on my journey once in a while. 

Now, during those times, I've already known the love-hate relationship that I had with productivity. Some days I write one passage, and sometimes I can write a lot. Until I couldn't write anymore. 

I think when school came, I and my self-proclaimed image of productivity broke up. 

It was more of me being cruel to myself, I realize that now, but it's hard to convince yourself when you're in that moment when you can't seem to reach it—productivity. 




MY SCULPTED IMAGE OF PRODUCTIVITY.

It's stupid. I can't be up and running all the time. I know that. But my head doesn't comprehend. 

I often consider productivity as a drug. Gets you high till it wears off so you try to reach for it every time, but your body can't really take much of it and so you wallow in despair because you can't have it. (Way to make it sound so poetic, dear self.)




WHAT OTHERS SEE FROM BEYOND THE TINTED GLASS.

I once found it baffling every time people tell me how diligent I am for I don't think that's it. I postpone a lot of projects, I ditch a lot of started ideas and I forget about what I should be doing because of impulsiveness. That's all beyond the barrier of the screen however so I guess it makes sense. 

I do not think I am a productive person. I consider myself to be lazy albeit stressed out. Sometimes I feel like a fraud because of it. How do I keep up this image that other people have made for me?

The answer is simple. I probably shouldn't. (Brain said forget that answer, let's search and ask again. She's stupid.) 

NOW, WE COMPROMISE.

I started journaling again. I started last year. I ditched journalling after grade 10 because writing about my day every day became such a pain. Now, I do it more for the fact that I want to feel like I have done something. I write every little thing, from buying stuff at the mall to going home alone after going out. 

Writing these made me realize how much effort I put into such mundane things that aren't a big deal to some people. Perhaps that says a lot about my condition that I don't know. Hopefully, I find that out someday. 
Now, because I write those things, I create a different idea of productivity. 

I survived these personal obstacles. I'm doing just fine. Not the best, but still fine. (Wow, typing that down is so satisfying.) 


 

I already have a list of blog ideas that I gradually increased from 2023. I couldn't get the motivation to write them. It'll be the first for me to write those things and I'm thinking I should probably start. I think it'll make a difference. 

Well, thank you for reading this. I'm sorry for taking much of your time. Hopefully, I made a little difference with my words. 

— blue

Overprotected Kahoko

 

"Being needed by someone in this world besides my family and for that person to want to see me all the time is such an amazing thing. It's like I've been told that it's okay for me to exist." 

— Kahoko, Overprotected Kahoko

I have been in my Japanese drama-binging era for the past month and Overprotected Kahoko (Kahogo no Kahoko) is one of the ones I have recently finished watching. 

Weirdly as it is, I spent a lot of episodes of this series crying and pouring my heart out. 

Before anything else, however, let's talk about what the story of this drama is all about. 

 

Overprotected Kahoko. As the title suggests, the story of this drama revolves around our heroine, Kahoko, and her struggles in asserting her own identity against the odds that were probably caused by her upbringing. She has a very hands-on mother and a father who, despite the awareness of problems in their family's situation, does not do anything to fix it or say anything about it. He doesn't and he couldn't, making his character that of a weak-willed husband that is often overshadowed by his wife. 

Kahoko's inability to do simple tasks and chores inside the house and even going as far as being unable to choose a career for herself is without a doubt caused by the way her mother treats her like a baby. She is seen to be privileged and lacks the understanding of an adult entirely. This is challenged when he meets a guy who stands at the opposite end of her seemingly shallow struggles. 

It has been months since I watched this movie that only the faces of the cast are left in my memory and apart from Kahoko, I honestly cannot remember the other characters' names. I had to check online so I could write them down here. 

The guy that Kahoko will meet is Hajime. He's an art major who is determined to be a successful painter and to eventually live off of that job. However, for that to happen he has to spend his days doing part-time and odd jobs to make ends meet because you can't exactly be a famous artist overnight. That's not how the industry works which is the whole point of the struggle that makes Kahoko's problems seem shallow. He even goes as far as to say that people like Kahoko are the burdens of society as they contribute nothing to the economy or the development of a country. 

None of these is Kahoko's fault, however. Throughout the drama, Kahoko has proven how she wants to have her own identity and she wants to get out of this safety cocoon that her mother has built for her and yet she is having a hard time because everything is that new to her. She hasn't worked a day in her life, she can't make meals for herself, and she can't even choose what dress she would wear to school. Everything is a new learning experience that it's so confusing. It's like making a toddler walk for the first time. 

Apart from this nurtured trait, I can't help but think that Kahoko has more underlying issues than what was mentioned in the series though. I can't confirm because I am not an expert and it was never explicitly said by anyone in the story, but I have this inkling that she could be autistic or at least within the spectrum. The way her emotions overflow and how she has a hard time regulating them, or how honest she is with little control about her reactions as she is unable to read the room all points to that possibility. Again, I could be wrong, but this could essentially explain more about her as a person that no one around her could have understood. But in the end, they chuck up everything into Kahoko being what she was and everything is somehow okay. 

This theory aside, let me now talk about the characters that infuriated me as I watched this, 

Number one, on the top of the list, is her mother. Almost all of Kahoko's problems are caused by how her mother treats her. I hated it when she outwardly showed how displeased she was at the way her daughter was finally gaining independence. Like finally! For the entirety of her whole life. Normal parents would've been happy, albeit still sad, at the signs of their children finally leaving the nest. But the way she handled it was not how a parent should've done, especially as the mother who was always there to support her through and from childhood. It made Kahoko feel helpless as if she is bound to be trapped in her mother's hands. It is borderline obsessiveness and is actually creepy in a way. The tone of the series made it seem lighter than reality. I like the delivery, however, that is if we're talking about it story-wise. 

Number two, her father. He's not the better parent despite how he thinks he might be. He's a pushover and doesn't do anything to help his daughter that much. He has this grand plan every time but doesn't have enough of the will to execute them. I pity him too, in a way. I don't feel the chemistry between him and his wife. I've been wondering as I watch this couple interact onscreen, but I see no reason why they would ever get married. But they did. Maybe it's all the grown-up stuff again that won't make sense in the view of the outsider. He cared about his family though and that has been one of the traits that I like about him. He doesn't hold back Kahoko as well and he does his best to support her when his wife stubbornly rejects her. I don't know, maybe he is a bit of a better parent when it comes to nurture and all. 

Number three, Kahoko's cousin. Sure, I understand where she's coming from. I understand her tendencies and I sympathized with her as a fellow artist who knows how hard it would be if I were robbed of the one thing that enables me to create. But that doesn't mean that she instantly has the pass to be a brat and toss away everyone who cares about her. She could be mad. No one is stopping her, but in turn, she has to communicate why she is mad and understand her parents and relatives as well. If she wants to cut them off, have the decency to be reasonable and not be stupid. She is a realistic character in the sense that she is molded as a teenager with the tendency for rebellion, but I still do not like her, especially with how she treats Kahoko. 

Those complaints aside, the premise of character development made me think better of each character. They have a lot to change, however. A simple step to the better won't cut in the long run. I would like to imagine that everything is better past the scenes of the show.

Now let's go back to our main character. 

I like her. I could see why her mother would want to protect her all her life. She is childlike and her brightness and honesty that other people might take advantage of is something you would want to shield so she wouldn't get hurt. But what I most admire about her is her will to find out what she can be. When she wants something, she is bound to not stop until she gets it. When she knows something is wrong, she might hesitate for a while, but still, she would do something about it because she knows that something wrong should not be left to stay wrong. She is admirable and it was hard not to want to be like her.

Overall, I liked the story, One thing I would have wanted more of however are moments between Hajime and Kahoko. Their love story is cute as how they supported each other was so wholesome and pure. I needed more!

 

BLUE'S CORNER:

        Hi. You're here.

        I wouldn't have expected my eyes to water and pour the tears out like a waterfall when I watched the first episode. I thought it would be this light show that would give me a few laughs and might even bore me with some of its cliche plots. But lo and behold, I was crying before I could realize that I was crying. 

        If I were to go over the reasons why, I would put this reason at the top of the list. I'm a sucker for stories that portray a mother-and-daughter relationship. Whether that relationship is wholesome or terrible and toxic, I wouldn't care. It would make me cry. I guess that says a lot about my own life as a daughter. That is something I can elaborate in fiction but can't explain in real truthful tales.

        As I'm writing this, I'm beginning to wonder whether I would be a good parent to a non-existent child that I might not even have in the future. I'm so unstable as I am now. My traumas and burdens tell me what I should and should not do, but the familiarity of all that might still lead me to do the things I shouldn't. My own emotions would overpower me and that usually ends up with me lashing out to other people.

        I don't know, just a random thought. Thinking about it, if I become a mother now I wouldn't be able to handle it. That makes me wonder how my mother managed to raise me when she was my age. 

        Going past this first reason is Kahoko's character. I relate to her in some ways, and in some ways, I wish I could be more like her. I am incapable of doing simple chores. I am scared of going outside because of some unexplained anxiety that I wish I could solve. I understand her outburst due to overstimulating situations. When her cousin yelled at her and she had a panic attack because of it, I had a panic attack along with her. I don't like shouting. It takes me back to a bad memory that happened a few years ago. Every time I hear shouting, whether it be due to happiness or frustration, it always seems to me that somewhere within close proximity from me is a scene of someone fighting and the image of violence rises. I do not like violence.

        But with every scene that shows Kajoko's strengths and tenacity, I became more and more sure that she is way better than me at this. She has the potential to be more than what she is. I'm not sure I have that. I wish I did. I keep rooting for her at every obstacle and I cry at the way she cries with the new emotions she's discovering with the help of her new experiences. "I have never felt this way before," that was her usual phrase with a eureka moment of some sort. I find myself saying that phrase in my head more often recently. 

        Last but not the least reason, the grandmother. By the end of the show (spoiler alert) Kahoko's grandmother died. I still haven't gotten over the death of my grandma. I called her Lola, as per Filipino culture. Her death was the second time and yet the most impactful event that made me realize what true loss and grief are. I can't elaborate further without setting myself up through emotional self-torture. Although that is a usual occurrence, I would like to spare myself from such this time around, thank you very much. 

        So that's it. 

KAHOGO NO KAHOKO

(overprotected kahoko)

PERSONAL                               

CONNECTION                                   

RATING:                9/10

_______________________ thanks for reading ^^

a/n. As I reread this, I feel like I hadn't written enough. I don't know if it's just me but I seem far too detached that I am usually on my blog. I hope it didn't seem like that to you. I still want thus to feel like a letter addressed to a close friend. I left out a few details on my corner because of reasons. I really have been too unstable recently. Thinking about it now, maybe I left those out because while I'm writing this blog I was at the verge of wanting to take self control and so I made seem like a school assignment unconsciously. I don't really want that. I want this to be personal and I want you to know how Kahoko really made me want to be a better version me. Seems I forgot tho because I'm not any better as compared to the me who watched this a month back. Well, we'll keep trying. 

The Problem with Forever

"Forever was a work in progress. And I couldn’t wait for forever."

— Mallory, The Problem with Forever

[ trigger warnings: child abuse, mentions of drugs ]

It has been long since I have read an actual Young Adult novel. I have been filling my completed book list with adult or incoming adult books (without the actual intention to) that I forgot how it usually feels to read about teenagers falling in love and getting in trouble. 

So, here I was, feeling.

The Problem with Forever by Jennifer L. Armentrout. Just by the name I was sure that there was gonna be some waterworks plot in there. But me as I am, I did not prepare myself for any tearjerker cause i usually do not let out tears on a book unless they are so good, and the words hit home. Let me get to that in a minute.

The story revolves around this teenage girl named Mallory. She's a foster kid who got adopted by quite a nice couple that tried their best to nurse her back to health, both physically and mentally and perhaps they tried their best with the emotional part of that holistic health circle. She was abused as a kid in her past foster home and a lot of things happened that made her this child who can barely talk and get her points across through words. Abuse, it just ruins you. 

Then comes this boy. His name is Rider, and he calls Mallory "Mouse" because of... reasons. He's the kind of guy that treats you nice, and is nice, but grown-ups might look at as nothing but trouble. But most importantly, he was with Mallory for most of their childhood in foster care. He was the guy who was there before anyone was. 

So as the stories go, we have the problem. Mallory just can't be with a bad boy looking runt from the street because, well parent reasons. That part was expected. That's how it always goes, even in real life. 

But I just can't get over the fact that Rider just has to have the best lines! Like really good lines that makes you want to swoon, but then you remember you're not Mallory so those words weren't meant for you. (This is not me... okay, maybe it was.) But kidding aside, I really think some of his lines were precious enough to make Mallory feel safe and secure. Like I said, they were the perfect lines, just the right words to make everything feel like they're okay. It makes you believe that everything would be alright and yeah, sometimes we need that. Mallory is lucky to have that. Words are too hard to come by and because this is a book, the author makes it so easy. But it isn't easy in real life. Sometimes the words are just not there when you need them.

Everyone in the novel had baggage to unload. No one was spared, and I guess that's true to life because everyone of us has this past or even future that we dread and fear. Mallory was told a handful of times because of this that she's not special. Because almost all of us has things we are anxious about, she was told that she didn't need the pity party that she liked to make with herself and sometimes with others. 

But that's not really it. It might be true that she's not that special, but no one really has the right to undermine her experiences, nor she with what others are going through. She might be too wrapped up with her own struggles and that may be a problem, but nothing would go well if she's told that she doesn't have the right to feel this way. She has the freedom to. It's her life. But what is more important is that she had the will to outgrow that, to not forget and accomodate that into her life as she matures and finds a way a reason for her to be better. 

There were some issues dropped into the story that didn't quite get the spotlight. They passed by so quickly that I had hoped they had more elaboration of some sorts. Marquette for example was an often mentioned source of insecurity for Mallory but no actual flashback from the parents' perspective was ever made. I really think there's more to what they're letting on. Or maybe she was just one hell of a perfect daughter and so no questions ask. (For clarification, Marquette was the daughter of the couple that adopted Mallory.) I also wish Hector and Ainsley had more closure. There was this off screen conversation that happened, but we will never know what they talked about and how that went. I know Ainsley isn't the main character her, but I like to think that she deserves her own book and I'm just gonna imagine that that statement is real. I need to know more about her family, her illness, her boyfriend! Where did all those info drop about her go?(Fanfiction always has the answers. Who says I can't write them?)

Talking about the writing style, I missed it! There's just this vibe with Young Adult books that are so easy to get lost in. It's one of the styles that I have adapted into my own writing style that makes it easy for me to jot down the scenes. There's just this flow that is simple and so you wouldn't get hold up into every sentence. Some may not like that, but I do! (Insert guarding stance.)

The ending of the story has been wrapped up nicely, and I'm not gonna go into the specifics with it because that would be a major spoiler, but I like it. It's a little too simple though and as mentioned, I wanted more info with the supporting characters. Simply speaking, I WANT MORE!

BLUE'S CORNER

        Hi again to my little nook. 

        As stated on the opening sentence, I don't usually cry with books. I usually do that more often with movies because I can see the characters face and I can hear how their voices break when they're about to shed their tears. Audiobooks too because I can hear the change of tone every line.

        I didn't exactly bawl my eyes out for this one. It wasn't that serious, but it hit enough for me to stare into space for a solid ten minutes. I was honestly planning to write this review just as I was replaying the scenes of the novel in my head at that moment, but then my impulsive brain decided I would go on stream and be silently thinking about it as I talked and rambled like I am totally sane. (Please be convinced that I am.)

        Mallory struggles a lot with her speech. She has stutters and at the start of the novel she only ever says one or two words with such a soft voice. When she said that the words weren't the problem because she always had them and and that the problem was how to put a voice in those words, I stopped to breathe.

        There's a reason why I have always loved writing. At the point when I realized that I could write whatever I want and however I can, I felt like I was given this power I never thought I had. I could never say the things I want to. Even this very stuff I'm writing right now, I may never be able to say them as coherently as I can when I speak because I ramble. I ramble a lot, so much that others might have a hard time understanding what I actually mean. And sometimes it isn't even about the ramble. Sometimes it's about the fact that my thoughts are to deep and putting them into actual spoken words make me seem scary and complicated. I'm not denying that though. I am complicated. I just try to act simple so others wouldn't have a hard time.

        When Rider said, "I love it when you ramble," I stopped and unconsciously thought... I kinda want someone to say that to me. Again, he has the best lines! Just, why Mr. Fictional character? Stop making me daydream about a guy who can be like that. 

        Okay, moving on. I can't remember exactly on what part I cried, which is weird because I literally finished the book a night before making this review, but I think it was at the end part. To spare you from spoilers, basically it was the part where Rider and Mallory spilled their emotional guts out and laid out all the corpses that they've been hiding along with their dreams in life. That honesty stabbed me a lot of times as the paragraphs rolled on because those same things are the ones I have been keeping under my bed and haunts me every time I'm about to sleep. 

        I'm thinking I should list all those negative stuff, but now I'm hesitating because they are these dense blobs that I have to reread in the book so I could name them specifically. I kinda don't want to do that. But yes, let's just leave that as the great bubble of insecurities. 

        I like the title of this book. I too think that there's a problem with forever. For me, it doesn't exist. But like how Mallory says, there are moments that would feel like forever, and it is so hard to convince your brain that it's not. Those are the bad days, the painful days. While for happy days, forever doesn't feel like it'll fit into the equation. You immediately understand that that smiling face wouldn't last very long and that's sad. Because we would want to be happy forever, forever satisfied and never alone in a sense of being lonely.

        But I make do of what I have. I personally don't like to 'live forever' anyway. There's a certain appeal to thinking about something would end eventually. It's the wishing it would or wouldn't, it's the cherishing every second or it's the excitement about wanting to know what comes next. I sincerely hope there's something good coming my way.

THE PROBLEM WITH FOREVER

JENNIFER L. ARMENTROUT

PERSONAL                              

CONNECTION                                   

RATING:                9/10

_______________________ thanks for reading ^^

gif made by yours truly.

    

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