As an expert loner during my junior high years, I thought about one too many things. I had no love for humanity whatsoever and stuck with the realms of mythology, Maximum Ride, Pendragon, Harry Potter, The Last Apprentice, Kane Chronicles, Alex Rider, Eragon, Warriors, The Ranger's Apprentice, and many more books. Then, I got into anime and manga. I clearly recall watching Sword Art Online and thinking it was one of the best anime as it was one of the very few I had ever watched next to Naruto and Detective Conan (currently not caught up).

I was recently rereading my old writings from junior high and was about to throw them away. However, I got distracted by my old diary that was filled to the brim with my chicken-scratch handwriting. So I indulged myself in the past.

I had a happy childhood. No regrets whatsoever. There was a girl I confessed to, but I never got an answer back. Still, I didn't mind it much. While I was reliving my moments of the past, I realized quite a few things. My country was at war, and I wasn't aware of it. A "war on terror" so to say. Ignorance allowed my own happiness in a sense.

There was this one African American fellow who I played ball with frequently. Since cell phones and such weren't really a thing back then, playing ball was the best past time I had. Eventually, the two of us became friends. However, the same person left during my junior high school. It was not until today that I managed to connect a few dots. Stereotyping is harsh. Being a minority is harsh. Being different is awkward. 

Then I had a talk with one of my junior high history teachers. He was in his mid thirties I guessed. I asked him what the U.S should do if it got into a war. His reply: "Just nuke 'em". I asked upon pure curiosity what we'd do if we got nuked first. He said: "Get a bigger nuke." I never took that man seriously again. Learning the effects of the atomic bomb dropped in Hiroshima and Nagasaki in U.S history classes revived this memory in a more vivid manner from the written text. I watched a documentary on the atomic bomb's aftereffects. Many of which I couldn't believe. No, I refused to believe it. Survivors of the atomic bomb fought tooth and nail to survive. They had the choice to give up or continue living. The latter was obviously the harder choice, yet they chose just that. And for choosing to live, they were scorned. Japan didn't hate them, yet they stayed away. They avoided funding any repairs to the devastated cities. They avoided providing food. It wasn't until ten years later when the Japanese government decided to create mental care hospitals for the victims. 

It took ten years to realize that 200,000 people were vaporized, and the remaining severely burnt people had to search under rocks for food.

Some people believe the Holocaust didn't happen.

The fact that people are capable of turning a blind eye to the deaths of many is depressing.

The fact that people are capable of pointing out differences between one another rather than understanding them is aggravating.

The fact that people are capable of look away from the past and repeat it unknowingly is frightening.

I sort of understood why I was the emo kid during my middle school years.

Eventually, I cleared out my old papers, and left the diary on a bookshelf somewhere. People are capable of sympathy. People are capable of loving the imperfections of others. People are capable of looking straight at the future full of hope.

I'm perfectly capable of eating a slice of cake.