The Last Letter From Tomorrow
2/12/06, Sunday
9:50am
Yokohama, the hotel
Fiction Note
-There are so many stories to tell about Tokyo.
2/12/06
Sunday
10:05am
Yokohama, the hotel
-Last year I dreamt about the apoclyapse. Waters rising and people gathering in grocery stores to buy provisions. I was dreaming -in a million different ways- about tomorrow.
-I talked to mom on the phone yesterday. She seemed happy there, or should I say then?
-Breakfast was nice, if not a little solemn.
-I didn't want this to be a trip about loneliness, but more and more i'm finding it hard to talk about Tokyo without talking about loneliness.
-I've been thinking about souviners and about whether people take picures to remind them of a place, or as of being there. I think you can take that sentiment and apply it to most any art.
-I think you could take that sentiment and replace pictures with love.
-After all, what is love if not that great act of observation and being observed. Of being proven.
-I'm finding it more and more difficult to talk about leaving without talking about longin. To stay more, maybe. And to be home.
-Last night i had a dream that Mom and I were watching TV. On it, the program was reviewing all the places we've lived. It mentioned one house which had, in a sense, been transformed. We each got in our cars and drove there. Te house looked the same -all eggshell and tan, but through the windows we cold see horses milling around inside. It felt somehow appropriate.
A storm came as we were leaving and I walked across both lanes of the highway as well as the soggy median. When I found my car, it was turned over by the storm. I rocked back onto its wheels and got inside.
I pulled it across the southbound lane toward the otherside.
When I got to the median, the mud had turned to water and I felt myself drifting to the bottom. It was quite deep.
I tried to start the car again, but the water had flooded the engine and electronics. With the electric windows and locks inoperable, I was trapped. I had no choice but to sit there and wait for the water to find its way in.
-Last year, I dreamt about the day after. I wonder if this year will bring more dreams of yesterday.
2/12/06
Sunday, Japan (which is to say the first time around)
1:15pm Narita Airport
-I just saw Dad off. It feels like there's this weight on me right now. I can't tell where from.
-I finally found Erik's present. I think it's perfect.
-I keep thinking about how much I'd love to come back here, but even that thought is hard I think i'd need more next time. Friends, or a home. I don't know.
-My beer just came. It's huge.
I could see the guy across from me (american?) raise his eyebrow when he saw it. I feel a little sheepish but I think getting a little buzzed right now could be just what the doctor ordered.
-I remember telling people about my impending trip here and being asked a couple of times if I had a thing for Japanese guys. I didn't have an answer at the time and I still don't, really. Granted, there are a lot of attractive men here, but the same is true of America. The more I'm here, the less differences I see between the two. Bone structure, fashion, facial features are pretty much the same minus slight differenations.
-My legs feel like Jello from weeks on one kind of train or another. It's that feeling you get from too many rollercoasters. I think this must contribute in some way to the weight i feel on me. If that's true though, what must it feel like for those Toyko Commuters? Does it eventually go away or must they feel it daily, this weight upon them like the cieling descending, or the sky?
-A travel group (foreginers) just passed by and I couldn't help feeling defensive, possessive of this place maybe or -and more likely- of this freedom, this momentairly escape from the familiar.
-Someone else just ordered a beer. I feel better, now.
2:130pm
Narita Airport, Terminal 2
I'm sitting in Terminal 2 again with a cup of Starbucks now feeling slightly buzzedand slightly caffinated. This seems somehow appropriate considering my impending trip back in time.
-I'm sitting
3:24
Narita Airport, Gate 33
-I've only got a few pages left in my Sherman Alexia book and i'm sitting here wishing it was 15 after the hour instead of 15 till. The plane boards at 11 after.
-I'm listening to Stars -the song is Look Up. I first heard it the day I was sitting in my car outside Bay Books and It had just begun to rain.
That moment seems like such a jewel to me. Deep in the summer and full of rain and possibility. Now it just reminds me of hope -the foolish, essential kind.
-The day's still got about 23 hours left for me and I'm already feeling nostalgic for it.
-When the song ends, i start it again.
-Sitting here, yesterday doesn't seem a far enough distance to go.
2/12/06
Sunday
On the plane, Somewhere in the void of time
-A memory just came to me. It was my first day on my own and I had just put on my adventure Mix on my way to the JR (subway.) Minus the Bear clicked on just as I hit the stairs down to the underground mall morning crowd half of whom were -like me- on their way to the train and the other half were on their way from it. I couldn't help smiling, then. A huge, dum, American smile. I could have sworn I was everything. I felt that good.
2/12/06 (The second time around.)
Yesterday, or is that today?
On the BART train home
Conclusions gained from my trip:
-California is far less crowded than I gave it credit for -comparativly speaking.
-The more choices you give someone the more unhappy they are. For undergrad I gave myself one choice, Sonoma. For grad school, I have many choices -major, city/rural/other, In state/Out of State/ Out of Country. The more choices you give someone...
-My Haruki Murakami book mentioned Shinigawa and I felt that same wave of possessiveness again. I think it'll be a common feeling for a while.
-You can love a place without wanting to end up there indefinitly.
-It is possible to love a place without ever hoping to understand it, it's just a different kind of love.
-I am so over rail transit right now.
9:50am
Yokohama, the hotel
Fiction Note
-There are so many stories to tell about Tokyo.
2/12/06
Sunday
10:05am
Yokohama, the hotel
-Last year I dreamt about the apoclyapse. Waters rising and people gathering in grocery stores to buy provisions. I was dreaming -in a million different ways- about tomorrow.
-I talked to mom on the phone yesterday. She seemed happy there, or should I say then?
-Breakfast was nice, if not a little solemn.
-I didn't want this to be a trip about loneliness, but more and more i'm finding it hard to talk about Tokyo without talking about loneliness.
-I've been thinking about souviners and about whether people take picures to remind them of a place, or as of being there. I think you can take that sentiment and apply it to most any art.
-I think you could take that sentiment and replace pictures with love.
-After all, what is love if not that great act of observation and being observed. Of being proven.
-I'm finding it more and more difficult to talk about leaving without talking about longin. To stay more, maybe. And to be home.
-Last night i had a dream that Mom and I were watching TV. On it, the program was reviewing all the places we've lived. It mentioned one house which had, in a sense, been transformed. We each got in our cars and drove there. Te house looked the same -all eggshell and tan, but through the windows we cold see horses milling around inside. It felt somehow appropriate.
A storm came as we were leaving and I walked across both lanes of the highway as well as the soggy median. When I found my car, it was turned over by the storm. I rocked back onto its wheels and got inside.
I pulled it across the southbound lane toward the otherside.
When I got to the median, the mud had turned to water and I felt myself drifting to the bottom. It was quite deep.
I tried to start the car again, but the water had flooded the engine and electronics. With the electric windows and locks inoperable, I was trapped. I had no choice but to sit there and wait for the water to find its way in.
-Last year, I dreamt about the day after. I wonder if this year will bring more dreams of yesterday.
2/12/06
Sunday, Japan (which is to say the first time around)
1:15pm Narita Airport
-I just saw Dad off. It feels like there's this weight on me right now. I can't tell where from.
-I finally found Erik's present. I think it's perfect.
-I keep thinking about how much I'd love to come back here, but even that thought is hard I think i'd need more next time. Friends, or a home. I don't know.
-My beer just came. It's huge.
I could see the guy across from me (american?) raise his eyebrow when he saw it. I feel a little sheepish but I think getting a little buzzed right now could be just what the doctor ordered.
-I remember telling people about my impending trip here and being asked a couple of times if I had a thing for Japanese guys. I didn't have an answer at the time and I still don't, really. Granted, there are a lot of attractive men here, but the same is true of America. The more I'm here, the less differences I see between the two. Bone structure, fashion, facial features are pretty much the same minus slight differenations.
-My legs feel like Jello from weeks on one kind of train or another. It's that feeling you get from too many rollercoasters. I think this must contribute in some way to the weight i feel on me. If that's true though, what must it feel like for those Toyko Commuters? Does it eventually go away or must they feel it daily, this weight upon them like the cieling descending, or the sky?
-A travel group (foreginers) just passed by and I couldn't help feeling defensive, possessive of this place maybe or -and more likely- of this freedom, this momentairly escape from the familiar.
-Someone else just ordered a beer. I feel better, now.
2:130pm
Narita Airport, Terminal 2
I'm sitting in Terminal 2 again with a cup of Starbucks now feeling slightly buzzedand slightly caffinated. This seems somehow appropriate considering my impending trip back in time.
-I'm sitting
3:24
Narita Airport, Gate 33
-I've only got a few pages left in my Sherman Alexia book and i'm sitting here wishing it was 15 after the hour instead of 15 till. The plane boards at 11 after.
-I'm listening to Stars -the song is Look Up. I first heard it the day I was sitting in my car outside Bay Books and It had just begun to rain.
That moment seems like such a jewel to me. Deep in the summer and full of rain and possibility. Now it just reminds me of hope -the foolish, essential kind.
-The day's still got about 23 hours left for me and I'm already feeling nostalgic for it.
-When the song ends, i start it again.
-Sitting here, yesterday doesn't seem a far enough distance to go.
2/12/06
Sunday
On the plane, Somewhere in the void of time
-A memory just came to me. It was my first day on my own and I had just put on my adventure Mix on my way to the JR (subway.) Minus the Bear clicked on just as I hit the stairs down to the underground mall morning crowd half of whom were -like me- on their way to the train and the other half were on their way from it. I couldn't help smiling, then. A huge, dum, American smile. I could have sworn I was everything. I felt that good.
2/12/06 (The second time around.)
Yesterday, or is that today?
On the BART train home
Conclusions gained from my trip:
-California is far less crowded than I gave it credit for -comparativly speaking.
-The more choices you give someone the more unhappy they are. For undergrad I gave myself one choice, Sonoma. For grad school, I have many choices -major, city/rural/other, In state/Out of State/ Out of Country. The more choices you give someone...
-My Haruki Murakami book mentioned Shinigawa and I felt that same wave of possessiveness again. I think it'll be a common feeling for a while.
-You can love a place without wanting to end up there indefinitly.
-It is possible to love a place without ever hoping to understand it, it's just a different kind of love.
-I am so over rail transit right now.