post 2
and so here i am, spending some time with my insecurities, letting them soak in thro my thick skin, and i'm finding, surprisingly, i'm am so much better off then i was the last time i was in japan. i used to just idealize this culture. the beautiful woman with their ostentation fashion sense. their excellent iced coffee in convenient vending machines all thro out the city... hmm, i mean, it's not so much that i ever actually idealized any of this. i thought most of it was silly, they over package (like you have to get thro 3 plastic wrappers to get to your food), they over think (hence the most ridiculous inventions such as a plastic cone that goes over a lighter so you can light your cigarette, even in the wind), they're superficial, and they often don't know how to love.
they are some of the funniest people, still, damn they look good, every 10 minutes while walking down the street, i let my eyes turn my whole body to watch yet another model worthy face.
i think that's why it's better when i'm on my bicycle,
the first day i was here, sakura and i went out to the imperial palace and walked around down towards ginza (the high fashion street, which i had gotten mixed up with some place i had been to before, that i swore wasn't harujuku, but probably was in the end.) i got lost often, felt weird when asking for directions, tho, this is one of the only things i can successfully talk about in japanese, "sumimasen, shibuya eki wa doko desu ka." the walk was cold, and isolating, the ride back on the subway left me feeling empty and reminded me of what i hate about being here. no one talks to one another. not just that the japanese don't talk to me, i can handle that, but the japanese don't talk to each other. they just sit silently and text message or read books. there's no laughter like there seems to be on every other public transportation system at 10 o'clock at night. but they're just so damn... in their world.
see, japanese are funny, they'll bend over backwards to help you if you ask, i've talked to people about how often when lost, a japanese person will not only draw you a map of where you're trying to go, but if it's within 10 or so blocks, they'll often walk you there. a friend was telling me about hitchhiking and how when he'd get picked up, often people would drive and hour out of their way to drop him off in exactly the place he meant to go, and you have to understand, gas is ri-cock-ulous here, that's honestly equivalent to another $100.
yet, yet they have a homeless population that is mostly made up of business men who have lost their jobs and are so ashamed, that they never return home. and the wives, they never look for them. this culture is cold, it's overly polite, but cold.
anyhow, biking is fucking amazing.
the streets are huge and for the most part, there's so much car traffic that they're ultimately going very slow, i'm not worried much about getting hit, unless it's out of my own stupidity, i.e. crossing the street against the light. the other day, i nearly watch sakura get plowed by a truck, i felt my heart drop for a moment. she was going to cross, the light was red and it was a big intersection but for some reason, we thought it was clear enough, but then comes this truck barreling down, and i scream, and she see, slams her brake and puts her feet on the ground, i swear she stopped less than two feet in front of that thing. and it would have hit her with nearly all it's force. ok, i will be more careful than this,
biking is incredibly freeing, and for the moments when i'm sinking just a little bit, into feeling the sadness of this culture and wondering how much of that is in me, i snap, go for a ride, and let it all just wash over,
i'm not avoiding it, i'm here to face these questions,
but i let it wash over me,
they are some of the funniest people, still, damn they look good, every 10 minutes while walking down the street, i let my eyes turn my whole body to watch yet another model worthy face.
i think that's why it's better when i'm on my bicycle,
the first day i was here, sakura and i went out to the imperial palace and walked around down towards ginza (the high fashion street, which i had gotten mixed up with some place i had been to before, that i swore wasn't harujuku, but probably was in the end.) i got lost often, felt weird when asking for directions, tho, this is one of the only things i can successfully talk about in japanese, "sumimasen, shibuya eki wa doko desu ka." the walk was cold, and isolating, the ride back on the subway left me feeling empty and reminded me of what i hate about being here. no one talks to one another. not just that the japanese don't talk to me, i can handle that, but the japanese don't talk to each other. they just sit silently and text message or read books. there's no laughter like there seems to be on every other public transportation system at 10 o'clock at night. but they're just so damn... in their world.
see, japanese are funny, they'll bend over backwards to help you if you ask, i've talked to people about how often when lost, a japanese person will not only draw you a map of where you're trying to go, but if it's within 10 or so blocks, they'll often walk you there. a friend was telling me about hitchhiking and how when he'd get picked up, often people would drive and hour out of their way to drop him off in exactly the place he meant to go, and you have to understand, gas is ri-cock-ulous here, that's honestly equivalent to another $100.
yet, yet they have a homeless population that is mostly made up of business men who have lost their jobs and are so ashamed, that they never return home. and the wives, they never look for them. this culture is cold, it's overly polite, but cold.
anyhow, biking is fucking amazing.
the streets are huge and for the most part, there's so much car traffic that they're ultimately going very slow, i'm not worried much about getting hit, unless it's out of my own stupidity, i.e. crossing the street against the light. the other day, i nearly watch sakura get plowed by a truck, i felt my heart drop for a moment. she was going to cross, the light was red and it was a big intersection but for some reason, we thought it was clear enough, but then comes this truck barreling down, and i scream, and she see, slams her brake and puts her feet on the ground, i swear she stopped less than two feet in front of that thing. and it would have hit her with nearly all it's force. ok, i will be more careful than this,
biking is incredibly freeing, and for the moments when i'm sinking just a little bit, into feeling the sadness of this culture and wondering how much of that is in me, i snap, go for a ride, and let it all just wash over,
i'm not avoiding it, i'm here to face these questions,
but i let it wash over me,