Lack of Freedom

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Eye eye eye eye eye eye eye eye eye eye eye self eye
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Eye eye eye eye eye eye eye eye eye eye eye eye eye eye
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The special existence that is yourself
If you only worry about the eyes of those around you
No one will ever notice you
If you just stand there blankly
No one will ever notice you
Without worrying about the eyes of those around you
Search for yourself, find yourself
Something will naturally come into view
Speak out what you want to do
Someone will surely notice you

A poem that was awarded a prize in the summer of my third year of high school.
I had to submit a poem as part of a school assignment, and as a teenager going through a difficult phase, I associated poetry with so-called 'poets' and felt somewhat embarrassed.
While 'shame' can sometimes hinder expression, I decided to turn that very self-consciousness about what others think into the poem itself.
I tried to avoid poetic expressions as much as possible and kept it to one sheet of manuscript paper so people wouldn't think, 'This guy is trying to be a poet.'
I filled the right half of the manuscript paper with 139 'eye' characters, and placed a single 'self' character—representing myself amidst those surrounding eyes—quietly in an inconspicuous spot on the bottom right.
Since the meaning wouldn't be conveyed with just that, I wrote text on the left half of the manuscript paper like an answer key, so that people would notice the 'self' hidden among the surrounding eyes.

I thought about using titles like 'Self-Consciousness' to make people aware of the 'self,' or 'Finding Myself' to help them look for the 'self,' but those felt too direct and embarrassing, so I scrapped them.
However, I didn't have the courage to use a bright title either, so I named it 'Lack of Freedom' to describe my state of mind.
The 'self' sandwiched between 'lack' and 'freedom' seemed cramped and unfree.

I received an honorable mention—one of only two awards, the other being the top prize called the 'God's Baton Award'—and was to be honored, so I flew from Miyakojima to the main island of Okinawa with my Japanese teacher for the ceremony.

After receiving comments from the judges, the head judge finally said, 'It would have been even better if I or you were included in these 140 eyes.'
When my Japanese teacher pointed out that my 'self' was included, it seemed none of the judges had noticed, and it was about to be published in the newspaper without the 'self,' so they rushed to reprint it and correct the comments.

And finally, there was a time set aside to read the awarded poems at the venue.

As the poems filled with the thoughts of the high school student who won the top prize and the elementary and junior high students were read, my turn came around.
When I stepped onto the stage and looked around, the solemn atmosphere of the venue was dominated by the presence of people involved with the poems and the press.
'Eye, eye, eye, eye, eye, eye,'
In the silent venue, only the sound of my 'eye' echoed.
'Eye, eye, eye, eye, eye, eye'
People were looking down as if suppressing laughter, and I was met with mocking gazes.
'Eye, eye, eye, eye, eye, eye'
Even though I had created a poem to be as un-embarrassing as possible, to receive such treatment at the end.
'Eye, eye, eye, eye, eye, eye'
There are still over 100 eyes left.
'Eye eye eye eye eye eye eye eye eye eye eye eye'
I switched to a strategy of saying 'eye' quickly without pausing.
'Eye eye eye eye eye eye eye eye eye eye self eye'
Maybe it's 'self' around here!

I finished the reading in a somewhat forced manner and left the stage to scattered applause.
I left the venue as if running away and boarded the plane to Miyakojima.
I was writhing in embarrassment as if I had experienced three years' worth of shame all at once, but at the same time, I was enveloped in an unfathomable sense of exhilaration, as if I had been liberated from that shame.

If I ever write a poem again, I felt I could write a little more 'freely'.