" i can't read "

---

reading is hard. i mean not in english. that one, i'm getting a handle on. no, i'm talking about thai. i can sound out some words: bathroom, gas station, some foods/menu dishes. simple things.

but, for the life of me, i just can't put the whole words together. thai is crazy like that. i mean, you can learn the alphabet fairly simple, with it's extensive-nesses, but try to speak it. it's all tones and inflections.

i love it, and it's many differences from a more emotionally-charged language like english. the funny ass thing about me and thai, is that if someone reads the sentence out to me, i can sound it out, thus reading it. to me that's crazy!

what the hell is wrong with my brain?? can't it figure out how to read it first, then the sounds can come later? it's all very strange and interesting. i think better, i should go back to kindergarten here, and then take some more lessons in basic everything.

it's like, you get to a point where you really need something specific, and there's this chubby 5 year-old all gabbing away getting what (s)he wants, and you start to get all frustrated and grumpy pointing all of these feelings at this chubby kid who's only fault is that you're so weak in your own confidence in the spoken language, that (s)he represents all of your lost childhood and missed opportunities, showing you once again the great sacrifices that some peoples' parents take in order to raise their children in a more positive/engaging environment/country thus allowing for a better future and ultimately a better chance at success in life.

it's sorta like that. but i'm not sore, just confused sometimes here and there is all.

when i was a little kid about 6, my dad would take some extra time before i went off to school to teach me thai. he would sit me down at this tiny table in the front room, and help me sound out the alphabet and some simple situational words: the kid is washing his face. the chicken is over there. uncle is eating shrimp. easy to say things like that.

and i was such an impatient american brat at six, that all i remember feeling at the time, was that if i could get through this morning's lesson, i could watch alvin and the chipmunk's, glo-worms, and thundercats on television before going off to school. what a dick i was! now that i'm me, now, i realize what a sham aspects of americana are.

if i had had the patience to realize what my dad was trying to instill in me, the retaining of a distant culture and deep-traditions fleeting rapidly away, then i wouldn't have have had such a harsh realization of my biculturality at 13; begging to all the proverbial question "who am i/where do i fit in proper?"

so big up to thai. the entire package of my past brimming with an engaging energy, doing absolutely everything within its powers to help me become all that i am.

as it is now, near a quarter of a century old, my brain has shut off the ability to learn fast. the wheels which were set in motion so long ago beg for a fresh twirl. and for some remarkable dumb-ass reason, my memory wants to give me a second chance. a sort of linguistic renaissance, allowing the shortcomings of the past to be remedied.

---