Silent Walls in Tokyo

Dear Lord, the silence in this Tokyo apartment is louder than the streets outside. I am surrounded by neon lights, yet I have never felt more invisible in my entire life. I came here to give my children a better future in Pampanga, hoping the yen I send back would build them a home, but now I realize I am building a house for people who are becoming strangers to me. My youngest calls me 'Tito' during our video calls, and every time she says it, a part of my heart just shrivels up. Why did I trade my presence for their provision?

Lord, I work twelve-hour shifts in this factory, repeating the same motions until my hands go numb, just to pay off the debt we took to get me here. I am exhausted, po. I keep waiting for a sign that this sacrifice is enough, that I haven't lost my soul in the process of chasing this dream. When will this cycle end? Have You forgotten the man who prays in his cramped room every night, staring at a picture of his wife that is starting to fade?

I feel like I am drifting further away from everything that makes me Filipino, everything that makes me whole. My faith feels like a flickering candle in a storm. Are You still walking beside me in this cold, neon-lit city, or am I truly on my own? Please, tell me how to keep going when I have absolutely nothing left to give.

Your broken servant, Aris