...
Ponta.
Mirrors suck and whose perverse idea is this anyway?
But.
PONTA.
Both the Play and the English essay are stupid. You want an Essay in English, aniki? Here you go:
I have one brother. His name is Ryoga and he works here, trying to impress the hell out of people and shit… I kind of think he thinks he’s good at it too. I don’t know… The thing about Ryoga is that I think that he’s trying too hard. He tries so damn hard just because his family is one fucked up family. And hell, I should know. I kinda grew up with those asylum rejects as well. Even more than he did, I think. Yeah, so anyway. The thing about Ryoga is that he’s desperately craving for attention. He never really got it when he was growing up, since all he did was mess with me and tease me, it really didn’t make me very affectionate towards him. Dad cared in his odd little way, as long as it suited him. When it didn’t, he ditched him. If you look at this from a psychological point of view it’s pretty easy to figure out why my brother acts the way he does. It’s a general abandoned child syndrome really, and as sad as it might be, it doesn’t help the fact that he can be a general pain in the ass. A lousy childhood should not give you the right to act like a jerk most of the time, but I guess both him and me have our way of doing just that.
Me? I was never neglected, I wasn’t shuffled from one house to the next, no, I was kept in place, on the tennis court, racket in my hand. I had to learn to play tennis from when I could hardly stand, and that’s the way it has continued. It was never a question about it… I was Samurai Nanjirou’s legitimate son, therefore I had no choice but to step in his footsteps. Never mind the fact that I wanted to take up basket ball when I was a kid. Never mind the fact that I kind of enjoy singing and would like to do that rather than work up a sweat on the court. Of course I don’t tell anyone this, of course I try not even to think about it, as my main goal right now is to beat dad one of these days. I need to beat him, because if I can’t beat him, I can’t ever start my own life. He’s this wall I have to climb over, or as I prefer it, crush.
Ryoga can’t do that. He’s not in dad’s league. He’s never really been accepted. I have my goal set for me. I have it pretty much figured out. Ryoga doesn’t, at least I don’t think he does, and I haven’t really asked him about it either. I don’t talk on that level with him, we hardly talk at all. The way I see it though, in sibling relations, part of the blame actually comes from the parents. If they’re screwed up, there’s a fat chance their kids are gonna get screwed up too. The only difference is that the next generation can’t lean on the parents to fix things. They have to sort things out on their own, one step at a time.
And maybe this could be our first step, or what do you think, brother dearest?
Mirrors suck and whose perverse idea is this anyway?
But.
PONTA.
Both the Play and the English essay are stupid. You want an Essay in English, aniki? Here you go:
I have one brother. His name is Ryoga and he works here, trying to impress the hell out of people and shit… I kind of think he thinks he’s good at it too. I don’t know… The thing about Ryoga is that I think that he’s trying too hard. He tries so damn hard just because his family is one fucked up family. And hell, I should know. I kinda grew up with those asylum rejects as well. Even more than he did, I think. Yeah, so anyway. The thing about Ryoga is that he’s desperately craving for attention. He never really got it when he was growing up, since all he did was mess with me and tease me, it really didn’t make me very affectionate towards him. Dad cared in his odd little way, as long as it suited him. When it didn’t, he ditched him. If you look at this from a psychological point of view it’s pretty easy to figure out why my brother acts the way he does. It’s a general abandoned child syndrome really, and as sad as it might be, it doesn’t help the fact that he can be a general pain in the ass. A lousy childhood should not give you the right to act like a jerk most of the time, but I guess both him and me have our way of doing just that.
Me? I was never neglected, I wasn’t shuffled from one house to the next, no, I was kept in place, on the tennis court, racket in my hand. I had to learn to play tennis from when I could hardly stand, and that’s the way it has continued. It was never a question about it… I was Samurai Nanjirou’s legitimate son, therefore I had no choice but to step in his footsteps. Never mind the fact that I wanted to take up basket ball when I was a kid. Never mind the fact that I kind of enjoy singing and would like to do that rather than work up a sweat on the court. Of course I don’t tell anyone this, of course I try not even to think about it, as my main goal right now is to beat dad one of these days. I need to beat him, because if I can’t beat him, I can’t ever start my own life. He’s this wall I have to climb over, or as I prefer it, crush.
Ryoga can’t do that. He’s not in dad’s league. He’s never really been accepted. I have my goal set for me. I have it pretty much figured out. Ryoga doesn’t, at least I don’t think he does, and I haven’t really asked him about it either. I don’t talk on that level with him, we hardly talk at all. The way I see it though, in sibling relations, part of the blame actually comes from the parents. If they’re screwed up, there’s a fat chance their kids are gonna get screwed up too. The only difference is that the next generation can’t lean on the parents to fix things. They have to sort things out on their own, one step at a time.
And maybe this could be our first step, or what do you think, brother dearest?