ok but imagine the start of american influence in japan in heta version as america showing random american things to japan and japan being really interested in them and and america notices it and giggles inside and then suddenly starts singing a whole new world to annoy him and it’s all like:
- I CAN SHOW YOU THE WOOOORLLLLDDD
- amerika-san no pls staph that das gey ಠ_ಠ
you broke into being
with a clash of cymbals and pain;
years later a part of you remained,
a feeling lasting for always.
it’s almost like you chose to mourn for life
in its entirety; unwisely, without restraint—
a self-imposed state of sorrow for whatever was.
no one understood that when you cried,
you cried with dying stars
and everyone who grew up lost;
all the lives you did not know
that spelled stories of bitter ends,
dreams impossibly shattered,
a pain as familiar as breathing.
you would bear the world’s burdens
to spare its aching hearts;
(if only they could be untangled.
if only they were not one and the same.)