Today is the aftermath of the first couple days. I have made it through 12 hours of flight time, perhaps 12 hours of not wanting to sleep, and at least 12 hours of orientation. Easily though, in the next twelve hours, I will know where I am going to be in Hiroshima. This makes me ecstatic and impatient. Ecstatic because I know that many of the unknowns before will start to gain outlines, but impatient because I want to hurry up and know.
So, for now, while I am stuck idling in the booming mecca of Japan, all I find that I can do is stare out the window at the sunrise that has caught Tokyo unawares. Though this city, in my case Shinjuku, has a very active night life until about midnight or beyond, the streets seem bare and cars are so scare. Nearly none dance about to greet the morning sun. And the sun which is now quite in the sky showing us practically a new day already has no one to greet it.
Why, I wonder, is Japan the place of 5-6 am sunrises, but nothing opens until 10am? If my train were not until after 10am, I would be able to get some shopping done for some electronics wares I had hoped to acquire. However, instead, I have four hours to idle in my hotel room, hit up conbeni's (convenience stores, think gas station, but no gas part), and maybe exchange money. meh, I'll contemplate these things later.
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
心折れた
To break one's heart...
Apparently, it doesn't take much for one's heart to break, metaphorically.
I'm not talking emotional romantic tension where your heart strings are singled out and snapped. I mean a broken heart with regard to one's hopes and dreams.
I mean it with regard to the days that make up the path of your life.
My heart simply broke when I left Japan. Now, however I find it breaking simply because I am leaving Omaha. I wish there was some way to have some sort of closure. Somehow, I want to place everyone in my pocket and carry them with me. Memories do not suffice to save me but their recall can act as a salve for my wounds or as salt to make them burn. They only accent my already held emotions.
If I dwell on it, I feel as though the task I have been given is equitable to Atlas's charge to hold the weight of the earth. He holds the physical object while I harden my sinews in a struggle against my own past memories. Faces pass by as I look on with my mind's eye, and my retinas burn.
Anyway, back to reality for a moment please? I just needed to vent someplace about the stress that I've got about going to Japan. I really want to go, but at the same time I know my strengths and weaknesses and I'm hoping that I am stronger than I think I am. In fact, I am hoping that my belief in my strength etc acts as a catalyst for me to have strength.
I just have to remember that a little nervousness helps but that a lot will kill me.
Peace. out.
Apparently, it doesn't take much for one's heart to break, metaphorically.
I'm not talking emotional romantic tension where your heart strings are singled out and snapped. I mean a broken heart with regard to one's hopes and dreams.
I mean it with regard to the days that make up the path of your life.
My heart simply broke when I left Japan. Now, however I find it breaking simply because I am leaving Omaha. I wish there was some way to have some sort of closure. Somehow, I want to place everyone in my pocket and carry them with me. Memories do not suffice to save me but their recall can act as a salve for my wounds or as salt to make them burn. They only accent my already held emotions.
If I dwell on it, I feel as though the task I have been given is equitable to Atlas's charge to hold the weight of the earth. He holds the physical object while I harden my sinews in a struggle against my own past memories. Faces pass by as I look on with my mind's eye, and my retinas burn.
Anyway, back to reality for a moment please? I just needed to vent someplace about the stress that I've got about going to Japan. I really want to go, but at the same time I know my strengths and weaknesses and I'm hoping that I am stronger than I think I am. In fact, I am hoping that my belief in my strength etc acts as a catalyst for me to have strength.
I just have to remember that a little nervousness helps but that a lot will kill me.
Peace. out.
Thursday, August 5, 2010
I'm leaving for Japan? Since when? When did this happen...
I guess this is all like one big bout of Deja vu for me, but just like fall 2006, I now stand on the threshold of new phase. I suppose there are many preparatory things that I need to do, but I find myself distracted and apathetic at the moment. I work. I write. I eat. I play games. I go see movies. I watch TV. I buy random stuff at Wal-Mart. I dream, and because of those dreams, I'm starting to wonder if my subconscious is on to something.
I had a dream last night where my house had been converted over to a strange wooden structure that was conveniently placed on stilts over an area of marsh water. I, however, still was going about my usual things. I climbed up a braided branch rope to the second floor and checked my email. I dozed on the sofa and woke up to read the newspaper after hearing its "thud" upon the door. Then I woke up.
My mom was shaking me as I lay in my hammock bed suspended over the marsh waters. She didn't say anything to but just looked towards the front door. Beyond the odd cracks and hollowed out areas of the tree limb wall that was around our front door, I could see a huge white bus. It was perhaps a tad more streamlined than the usual bus, but that wasn't what concerned me.
A large group of people milled about the outside of the bus. I ran to and flung open the door. An official carrying a clipboard stood there and asked in an overly casual manner, "Well, ya ready?" I was very confused until I noticed the circular tag that each person had over their heart. It was a small yet semi-ornate sticker with three bold letters: JET. I asked the official, "Why are you here?"
"It's time to go to Japan, kid."
"Wait, was that today?"
"No, we bumped it up."
"Give me a second..." was all I could blurt out.
Shutting the door in his face, I froze behind the door. Now what do I do? I'm not packed... in fact I haven't even bought close that is work appropriate in Japan. I don't have gifts yet. Argggh!!! What was I going to do? I ran this way. I climbed that wall. I ripped open my dresser and flung open my closet. Seemingly at random to an outsider no doubt, I set my mind on turbo and chose things with as much precision as I could. Books, practical objects and things that I never planned to bring all were tossed down a floor into a huge cardboard box and a suitcase. Wait a second...
What was that box doing down there... ? I paused at the edge of the flat board that made the boundaries of my room.
I thought this seemed odd. I recognize that box. That is the box I'm using to hold things that I want to bring to Japan with me. At least, that is what I'm doing in real life with it. And since when did JET go with an all-white dress code... ALTs aren't even connected with anything medical.
Sitting up, I realized myself back into reality. "Wow, enough of that," I said to myself. "Stupid overactive subconscious." Muttering to myself, I rolled over, reset my alarm for twenty minutes later and went to bed again. I better get things organized now, I thought to myself as I settled back into dreamworld.
The countdown for Omaha: 17 days
The countdown for Chicago: 18 days
The countdown for Tokyo: 20 days until I arrive in Hiroshima.
I’m, the conscious me, not aware that I'm leaving, but my subconscious is working overtime trying to make sure I don’t forget anything. Regrettably, it is already stressed so my dreams are being affected.
I had a dream last night where my house had been converted over to a strange wooden structure that was conveniently placed on stilts over an area of marsh water. I, however, still was going about my usual things. I climbed up a braided branch rope to the second floor and checked my email. I dozed on the sofa and woke up to read the newspaper after hearing its "thud" upon the door. Then I woke up.
My mom was shaking me as I lay in my hammock bed suspended over the marsh waters. She didn't say anything to but just looked towards the front door. Beyond the odd cracks and hollowed out areas of the tree limb wall that was around our front door, I could see a huge white bus. It was perhaps a tad more streamlined than the usual bus, but that wasn't what concerned me.
A large group of people milled about the outside of the bus. I ran to and flung open the door. An official carrying a clipboard stood there and asked in an overly casual manner, "Well, ya ready?" I was very confused until I noticed the circular tag that each person had over their heart. It was a small yet semi-ornate sticker with three bold letters: JET. I asked the official, "Why are you here?"
"It's time to go to Japan, kid."
"Wait, was that today?"
"No, we bumped it up."
"Give me a second..." was all I could blurt out.
Shutting the door in his face, I froze behind the door. Now what do I do? I'm not packed... in fact I haven't even bought close that is work appropriate in Japan. I don't have gifts yet. Argggh!!! What was I going to do? I ran this way. I climbed that wall. I ripped open my dresser and flung open my closet. Seemingly at random to an outsider no doubt, I set my mind on turbo and chose things with as much precision as I could. Books, practical objects and things that I never planned to bring all were tossed down a floor into a huge cardboard box and a suitcase. Wait a second...
What was that box doing down there... ? I paused at the edge of the flat board that made the boundaries of my room.
I thought this seemed odd. I recognize that box. That is the box I'm using to hold things that I want to bring to Japan with me. At least, that is what I'm doing in real life with it. And since when did JET go with an all-white dress code... ALTs aren't even connected with anything medical.
Sitting up, I realized myself back into reality. "Wow, enough of that," I said to myself. "Stupid overactive subconscious." Muttering to myself, I rolled over, reset my alarm for twenty minutes later and went to bed again. I better get things organized now, I thought to myself as I settled back into dreamworld.
The countdown for Omaha: 17 days
The countdown for Chicago: 18 days
The countdown for Tokyo: 20 days until I arrive in Hiroshima.
I’m, the conscious me, not aware that I'm leaving, but my subconscious is working overtime trying to make sure I don’t forget anything. Regrettably, it is already stressed so my dreams are being affected.
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