Reflection

And the walls 

closing in

as she drowns

in her own vast sins

of the father, mother

sister, brother

do they judge her?

or is it her minds' reaction

to, the faction

of masses

how they exist

and she is fixed

on this idea

of self affliction.

Her wounded soul

contorted

based on feelings

uncontrollable

she lies in

a vacant state

at the screen

before her

it's there

stories of

all the others

to her life

she will compare

and sit 

in remorse

and self woe, strikes

to herself she is

the foe

'let it go!' she shouts

internally;

but the truth comes hard

to 

the lonely

minded

trapt in a 

transparent cage

like a maze

her thoughts stream

rapidly by

can she catch one?

no......

not this time.

A thought on real love

It's nice to have someone, some body to see all your insecurities, take them in their hands and kiss them, softly.  To support them with their love and compassion.  Those little quirks that make you, you; often are trouble for most, challenging, annoying.  For the right kind of person, for the person, those things are special - sometimes mildly annoying - but they make you, you.  So that person loves you for all the rough edges, the squiggly lines, all imperfections and insecurities - the whole being that is you.

When you can do the same for that person.....that, my friend, is real, unconditional love.

So you wanna be a writer, eh?  You think you have what it takes?  The diligence to pursue a dream career that may never come to fruition, the drive to continue after endless rejections, the criticism and negative feedback, haunting blocks to the brain that cloud your desires, just to get those last few words out.  What are those words?  They're there, at the tip of your tongue, waiting to be written, spoken in a whisper, through your fingers as you type.  But it's hard to get them out sometimes, see, it's tough to find those words, it's tough to know what to say.  You're your own worst critic, they tell you.  So many of them, family and friends.  Reach for the stars, go for what you want, take your dreams and make them a reality.  You have too many dreams, maybe?  Too many ideas pop in and out all day.  It's like a fucking auction of thoughts, but it's being orated by a goldfish; nonsense, ramblings.  But they do make sense, to you...

So, begin.  Write your blog, like you're doing right now.  Create your story, fill the pages with tales of golden futures.  A place where all the good stuff happens.  The other universe sitting beside you, within you.  It's yours.  So take it.

Playing with stream of consciousness writing, or memories

This is very old, something from several years ago.

My earliest memory: Building a snowman with my sister and brother, my mother standing at the sliding glass door.  I also think I saw Uncle Keith there, but maybe not.  I don’t remember climbing stairs as a babe, but I can imagine what it must have been like.  Seated on my legs, I stair up at the flight of steps, were they covered with carpet, grayish blue maybe?  I put my tiny right hand on the first step, you can see my diaper under my long top, or maybe it’s a dress.  I can’t see myself climbing them beyond that first reach. 

I remember Mary Poppins and Lamb chops and playing with my magnets.  I used to build places and the little dots, the red and blue, were boys and girls.  I remember the boys would always chase the girls, and I always chose one of each to be the main characters.  I’m not sure how I kept them straight but it seems I almost always did.  I think sometimes I would mess them up when mom came by.  Like it was wrong of me to play such a game.  I got embarrassed.  I remember, I think, mine and Carl’s last bath together.  Maybe it was the chicken pox or something.  We had all our toys, well mostly his.  GI Jo and such.  I used to love playing GI Jo and trolls with him.  I always wanted to be like him.  Well, as far as I could.  I always looked up to him.  He was so smart and cool.  Emily had to play my mother, how could I look up to her.  I don’t remember when Dad left I just know he left.  My first memory of a phone conversation with him: I was maybe seven, or maybe it was just after he left.  I didn’t want to use the phone I just wanted to play.  I had just gotten my boots, the boyish kind, Timberlands or something.  I remember how excited I was.  I was trying to tie them maybe when he called and I had to talk to him.  Mom made me even though I said I didn’t feel like it.  It didn’t faze me then.  That my daddy had left.  I just thought how much this conversation had interfered with my playtime.  I remember the car ride with grandma and grandpa.  I fell asleep in grandmas’ lap in the back seat.  It sounds silly but that’s my fondest memory of her.  She was so caring then, she said, “If you’re sleepy just lay down here and go to sleep.” So I did, it was nice.  After that she became the crazy grandma.  My mother told me that she asked a doctor if I had been sexually abused.  I stuck my blanket up my nose; I just thought it felt nice.  Kids stick things up their nose.  I’m not sure it means anything except a strange fixation.  Freud would probably say its normal.  The only thing Freud was good for, he helped us understand child behaviors.  I remember having a crush on Lauren D.’s big brother.  I think he was the second oldest.  He was so cute, I guess.  I was only 8 or 9 so what did I know.  I remember when Lauren wanted to see me naked, or at least be in the room when I changed my clothes.  I thought she was a weirdo then, now I know she was just curious because I was older then her.  She was just curious.  Or maybe she was just kidding around.  I remember the dirt mounds.  We played on them and pretended to be on some kind of adventure.  We were always pretending.  I forget sometimes how imaginative I was.  My sister made me a Barbie extravaganza in our room once.  She took all my Barbie’s and hers and made little sections.  There was a house on our dresser and maybe a beach or something.  I don’t remember all of it, just that it covered our desk and dresser and the floor.  She always takes care of me.  I suppose I somewhat returned the favor with this trip, not sure I ever fully could though.  At some point you know you’re not like other families or that you’re not like other kids.  I thought about things a lot.  Just everyday things.  I seemed like such a quiet kid, people used to tell me.  On the inside it was never quiet.  My mind was always rolling from one subject to another or one idea to the next.  I used to dwell on things a lot.  I guess I still do. 

This is something I wrote back in June 2014.  It feels right, so I'm sharing.

Someone to save me, for a change.  Someone to love and accept me as me, wholeheartedly.  Someone that does not necessarily like all of my quirks, but accepts them as is; and that, when I do something stupid, they don’t roll their eyes and ridicule me.  Or if they do roll their eyes, they do it with a smile and give me a kiss - and I feel that love.  Someone that I can be myself around - my multitude of selves.  Someone that can mellow out my crazy, or meet it equally.  That is gentle and compassionate, and strong when in need.  When I need a shoulder they are open and comforting.  We can laugh together, and be quiet.  We can look into each other’s eyes for long periods of time - with or without laughter.  We can be creative together in whatever form.  I just want an honest love, a real love.

Untitled

Why are we so elite?  From other beings, like we serve a greater purpose.  Like we would actually outlive them all (yeah right).  How did we become so disconnected?  As if we can't feel her pain, as she weeps softly.  Sometimes loudly; thunderous clouds, tsunamis and great storms, fires that consume the old and the new.  Beautiful chaos, a cleansing.  She is vast and wise beyond our comprehension.  We are lowly and so young, so stupid.  So much to learn about her and the encompassing universe.  Her playground, her home, her space amongst the celestial gods; it a space we meekly fill, a tiny speck within an infinite, everlasting womb.  We are so lucky to experience it all.  If only that understanding reigned within all humans.  Let go of your pitiful selfish thoughts and behaviors.  Before it's too late.  Is it too late?  Have we reached the point of no return, the floodgates are destined to open?  I hope not.  That would be terribly sad.

love vs. greed, a thought

All we have is love, a pivotal emotion, to bring us true joy.  Can greed be deemed as a moment of true joy?  All a matter of perspective, I suppose.  It doesn't feel right, the righteous would think.  Greed can bring pain and hatred, seemingly terrible states of being.  The moment you feel love, is... like floating, like the smell of spring, fresh rain and a baby's skin.  All those precious pieces of time, experiences that we hold onto in our minds, stow them away in the memory banks of our mortal brains.

Greed seems to end in heartbreak, in death, often alone.  Does it not take more effort to be sharing and giving, then to hoard and be greedy?  Take more of ourselves, our spirits?  It's easy to keep everything to yourself, to be alone and pretend to not need.  It's far more challenging to let people in, to be open to love, compassion, and to give these in return, to share with others.  Yes?

Japan - Day 7 and My Top Favorite Things About Nippon

My last day in Tokyo was eventful, bittersweet at moments.  I arose early to get to the Tokyo Skytree first thing; though it was cloudy, still totally worth it.  It was fun to meander around the different levels and grab souvenirs for people (some at random).  The rain was still a light mist, so it wasn't a terrible day for exploration.

(There's my feet, standing on glass, on floor 340 - for 340 meters, which is apparently around 1115 feet.  Yeah.)

After the Skytree, I headed to Nezu for an art exhibit at the Yayoi Museum.  They featured a manga artist, Kazuo Kamimura (famous for Lady Snowblood), with pieces from the '60s and later; it was gorgeous.  But I'd like to backtrack a bit to travelling to Yayoi Museum.  Initially, I'd set out with my raincoat, and decided I'd purchase an umbrella somewhere along the way.  It wasn't until I'd left the Skytree that it really begun to rain, a very steady rain.

The whole trip to Nezu pretty much involved me being underground.  So, when I reached my destination, I just said screw it and walked the ten minutes, hood over my head, phone in hand, as I navigated to Yayoi.  It was fantastic.  I was drenched by the time I got to the museum, but those kind ladies lent me a towel and even took my coat and backpack while I walked freely through the exhibit.

Nezu has been added to some of my favorite places in Tokyo.  The town is quaint, with lots of intricate homes and buildings.  It was quiet, unlike busy Shinjuku or Nihonbashi areas.  And did I mention that the Japanese people (in general) are impeccably polite?  As I put on my coat and backpack to leave Yayoi, those two women stopped me, and held out an umbrella.  I couldn't have been more grateful.

My check out time was 1pm, so I basically headed back to the hotel and made my way to the airport.  It took close to an hour to get there by train(s), but I didn't want to miss the experience and take a taxi (which still only knocked off about 20 minutes).  So there I was, hauling my luggage up and down a few stairwells, mildly regretting my choice.  Fortunately, it didn't take too long to get to the train (A/KK line) which runs all the way to Haneda airport.  Very efficient those Japanese.  I had a few whispers from fellow passengers, and a couple stares, but not bad overall.

When I got to the airport, and reached the check-in counter, I was informed that I'd missed my flight.  Apparently, when it says 12:00 am Sunday, it means....midnight Sunday (or in more clear terms, you better get your dumb ass to the airport on Friday night or you miss your flight).  Yeah...that happened.  It only took a couple hours on the phone with Expedia, of which no resolve was found, and the helpful ladies of ANA ticket counter to help me get on the next flight to LAX free of charge.  I'd had to book a new flight, and pay, to get to Vegas from there.  I'll take it!

I've never missed a flight in my adult life.  This was certainly a learning experience.  Also, Expedia sucks.  Just saying.  Don't book a person six nights at a groovy hotel with free breakfast and not expect them to stay six (whole) nights.  Alas, after several hours of meandering and attempts of sleep in the airport terminal, I finally made my way home.

This whole experience for me meant life changes.  I know what I need to do, and I know it's time to move forward, with big girl steps...no more baby steps.  It felt like a part of my soul had been brought back to life, it made me appreciate human beings more.  It made me realize that people can be awesome.  I can't wait to explore so much more of this wonderful planet.



At that, I'd like to list my favorite things about Japan (so far..):
Vending machines, vending machine beer, food, all the food, sweets, macha, shrines, nice people, cute Japanese women, classy outfits, bidets, toilets with SO many buttons, Sonic the hedgehog, tiny people like me, tiny doorways and rooms so that Austin has to duck/crouch, sushi, sake, did I mention food in general?, art museums, sakura trees, and all sakura things really, foxes, hot springs, rituals and traditions, the lady that cleaned my hotel room, the lady that gave me an umbrella, the lady from ANA who helped me get home, the random guy who told us about the onsen, and all the other things.  And Japan.

I hope you all enjoyed this adventure with me.  And that my descriptions did some justice (though probably not, you should all go see for yourselves).  Get out there and explore your universe.  Life is far too short.  Love you all,

~HB~

Japan - Day 6

My last two days in Japan were bittersweet.  I'd had such a wonderful time, and sharing in new experiences with these beautiful people...



We said our goodbyes and they were off for more adventure, while I would plot out my final hours.  I'd decided to visit the National Museum of Modern Art, and would go from there to find shopping.  The weather was beginning to turn, mostly just a breeze, but I knew rain was coming.

The MOMAT was amazing.  Absolutely all that I had expected and then some.  It's been so very long since I've had the pleasure of enjoying a real art museum.  The pieces ranged from early 1900s-on.  My favorite, and the most moving experience, was a collection of works from around WWII.  I can't really describe the feeling, observing from their perspective.  It was incredible.  There was one piece that struck me in particular and sadly, I can't remember the artist's name or name of the piece (and no, I didn't take pictures).  If I ever find it, I'll post it here.  Everyone should experience something like this, being in the same room with something that old, absorbing some of the energy from the artist, putting yourself in that position, just for a moment even.  It's the best.

And even better, on my nearly final day in Japan, I found the golden egg I'd been waiting for....a sakura that was still in (full) bloom.

 

I still have to translate the sign that was nearby (I snagged a photo), but I believe there is something special about this tree.

After wandering for a bit, I decided to see Akihabara (recommended for potential gift purchasing).  It was very interesting and, though I didn't end up buying anything in this area, it was groovy to see.

Somehow, when I arrived in the Akihabara, I'd managed to find the one West coast, valley girl sounding Japanese girl at a small gift shop in a business building pretending to be a mall.  It had some places to eat, and apparently a few stores, but she assured me that the souvenirs I was looking for were not to be found very close by (unless I was buying for a bunch of anime nerds, which sadly, no).

I wandered for a bit, in attempts to find the two stores she recommended, but the wind was a bit much for such a midget like myself (not that I was the smallest person in Japan, 'cause I wasn't!).  And it felt good to get back to my hotel and relax.

I had a lovely morning in store, especially for my last day.  However, I had no idea that I was about to make a rookie travel mistake......


Side Note: The restaurant we visited regularly that has delicious pancakes is called the Kohikan, not the Kiokhan (or whatever I had called it in Day 2).  Oops.

Japan - Day 5

My fifth day in Japan included a visit to Fox Village, located about 5 hours north of Tokyo in the Miyagi Prefecture.  We got to take the bullet train (shinkansen) which goes roughly 200 mph at it's top speed.  Crazy.  The view was breathtaking.  As we left the city and moved further into the country, there were more and more traditional style homes, snow capped mountains and fields, trees, and the like.  It was incredible.  This day made me decide that I must come back, and I must explore more of this beautiful country.



The shinkansen took us only a couple hours to get to Shiroishi and then a cab ride of about 20-30 minutes, brought us to Fox Village, which is located up in the mountains.  The ride was quite spectacular, and thank you to the drivers who took us (as we had to split two cabs btw 5 people).  They gave us a ride to and from, communicating with one another to ensure we got to the village with no problem.  Language barriers.  I give many thanks to all those Japanese people that were so pleasant and helpful through our travels.

Anyways, Fox Village was adorable - and on some level a little sad, much like any zoo or other structure built to preserve other animals, there's always some feeling of guilt.  The foxes, however, didn't seem to mind as they were all quite fluffy and large.  We all made friends and even got to hold one.





How freakin' cute is that.  I mean really, come on.  I wanted so much to lay down with a group of them and take a nap.  But that was a big no, no.  There's a specified feeding area, where you can toss treats to suspecting foxes.  That was special.  And mostly where the guilt kicked in as some foxes had a challenging time getting their treats, and that's where some of the fights broke out.  Oops.

When we were ready to leave, we all made our way outside.  Only to be beckoned back by one of the staff, as she found us sitting on a bench and motioned, 'Wait for taxi inside,' or something to that effect.  It was lovely.  Like forced hospitality.  Love it.  And so, we waited by the stove, kept warm and waited for the taxi to take us back to town.

It took him roughly 20 minutes, and then we were off again.  The ride back was even more fun, as we got to see more of the town (I think he took a long way).  He dropped us at the train station, and then we decided to wander.  Food was needed, and found, and oh so delicious.  Everyone enjoyed varying meats on sticks from a vendor outside the grocery store.  The grocery store itself was full of lovely looking produce, everything so fresh and clean.

After some thought, it was decided that we needed to visit a local onsen.  It wasn't far from our current location and we'd heard about it from a groovy gentlemen at the Fox Village.  Thanks mister, whoever you were.  You rock.  The onsen was glorious (sorry no photos there ha!).  Naked in hot steamy water.  You don't get any better.  Well, if it had been outside, and co-ed...yeah.  I would've dug that.

The day was wrapped up with sleep, much needed.  Um...that is...after all the sake.  Yeah, that happened.  We toasted to friendship and travels and such, and the next morning I saw everyone off...

Japan - Day 4

The morning of Odaiba was mellow; we had no intentions of rushing about.  We sought nourishment at the KioKhan, really terribly excellent food.  The pancakes were almost better than my father's.  After farting around for a while we decided to meander out and find the U line (monorail) to Odaiba, and....Joypolis!  One of the best arcades I've been to yet.  But let me back up to getting there...

The monorail took maybe 30 minutes to land us in one of the most beautiful locations in Tokyo; something about this city made me feel a great sense of belonging.  Perhaps it was the bayside views and towering structures.  It was so clean, and the water was gorgeous.  We found our way to the top of the Diver City shopping mall, where a very large skate park resides.  The view was indescribable.  I just felt like I was home.

Other perks of Diver City mall included a giant fucking robot!  No bullshit.  I mean, he doesn't go anywhere..that I'm aware of...It was also very refreshing to include a Suntory Whiskey Highball with lunch, in the extensive food court.  Mmm.  We wandered the mall for some time and then decided to head to the arcade.

Joypolis wasn't far, and very well worth the money.  I honestly don't even remember what we spent, but I don't believe it was much for a night pass.  And then there was this....



I only wish I'd remembered to bring my Old School Sonic shirt - utter fail..

There was also a car game where you get to actually drive a car...like it's a car, and you get into it..and you drive; you can choose auto or manual (I chose auto cause I'm not that good).  It was fucking fantastic and I want one.  We also experienced some interactive games; Zombie Zoo involved a lot of me screaming like a girl as we walked through a couple of rooms and were given a show by some lovely employees dressed as doctors and zombies.  Good times.

We spent a few hours at the JoyPolis, and shared a drink on the veranda.



It was perfection.  Odaiba stole my heart.  Japan still has pieces of me.  But I'll get to that in more detail later......

Japan - Day 3

The next day I repeated my breakfast ritual and then left the comforts of Sotetsu Fresa Inn, to wander more through the streets of Nihonbashi.  The city is impeccable, in constant motion, as suits and fine dresses move fluidly from one street to the next, in and out of buildings.  It was like waves of people, all dressed to a T, like they were so important (I should note that I was in a business district, so it isn't so surprising that many people were in formal business attire).

There was very little to actually 'do' in my area, with the exception of food.  Food was everywhere.  These people do not like to go hungry.  And I can't forget the vending machines.  There were so...many...vending machines.  It was glorious.

As I was strolling along a main road, I suddenly found myself within a crowd; I adjusted my pace to maintain a steady motion within this sea of suits and dresses.  Just for a moment, it felt like I belonged.  Like that was my city.

Eventually, I found my way back to the Sotetsu Fresa and we all decided it was Meiji day.  The Meiji shrine would bring a whole new sense of calm.  A giant forest in the middle of the vast city.  The weather was perfect, just crisp enough that it gave the long walk an ethereal feeling.  My body was numb from the cold, but it felt glorious.



I walked through the gardens, filling my lungs with fresh air, taking in all the trees and plants, the bit of sunshine on my face, and bitter cold against my nose, lips, cheeks.  At one point, I lost myself in those gardens.  For a minute it felt like I wasn't really there, like I was moving along with the trees, the light wind that had picked up, like every molecule/atom of my body was touching everything around me.  I stayed in that state for quite some time, until something drew me back.

When we finally reached the shrine, I was surprised at how busy it had become.  The gardens leading up to this space were relatively quiet.  In spite of many people, it seemed like the trees muffled much of the sound.  The shrine, however, was full of laughter, from children and tourists, clicking of cameras, and other raucous.

I stayed for a while, watching an old man as he made his offering and stood in silence for quite some time.  His ritual was so much more affecting than that of the young.  The children seemed to perform this offering out of habit and necessity; I didn't feel the same level of concern, as this old man had shown.  It was beautiful to observe.  I wanted to talk to him, to hear his thoughts.  What was he saying to the Meiji, if anything at all, in that moment?  Was his mind simply quiet?  Perhaps he took that moment to meditate.  This was indeed a wonderful place to observe human interaction and to see the different styles of performing old traditions.  I didn't partake, as it felt rude.  This is not my place, I thought.  I should just watch.

The park leading after the shrine, Yoyogi Park, was quite beautiful.  A perfect area for lovers and families to sit in the sun and picnic.  I'd like to go back there and do just that.  Someday.

We gathered ourselves and left the park, heading for food or whatever we might find.  It took some time, and after being turned away from at least one restaurant (we were too foreign), we finally came to one of the most amazing restaurants I've ever had the pleasure of dining at (Hana no Mai).  Thank you to my sweet, for finding this treasure.  The food was orgasmic, sushi that melted like butter, and an omelette we had to get two of; and of course, good drink.  Our server spoke a bit of English, and was very hospitable.  I highly recommend to anyone that ventures near the Meiji Shrine to find Hana no Mai.



This was a great prequel to the Robot Restaurant show, which was utterly fantastic.  A much worthy show to take in, whenever you are in Tokyo.  The staff are lovely, the costumes and robots are absolutely astounding; how they manage to fit in such a small space, I have no idea.  Major kudos to the controllers of the robots.

It was such a fun packed day, and with so much to take in and see.  We fortunately decided to sleep in a bit the following morning.  I had no idea that I was going to find my home away from home in Odaiba.  Oh Odaiba, how I miss you.

Japan - Day 2

Filled with excitement, I awoke very early; still a little foggy from the plane, but ready to take on the day nonetheless.  I had my first free breakfast downstairs, while enjoying a pleasant view of the hustle and bustle of Nihonbashi-Kayabacho district.  My croissant and yogurt, with salad, were a refreshing start to the day.  I felt good, like a badass.  My confidence oozing.  After consuming delicious grub, I found my way to the nearest 7 eleven (yes, those exist in Japan).

It was one of the nicest, cleanest 7 eleven's I have ever experienced.  The staff are always polite, indeed all Japanese people I came into contact with were very pleasant - a dutiful respect that seems innate within the culture of Japan.  Why can't we have this sort of interaction in the states?  If anyone was being rude during the whole of the week, I wouldn't have known.  Perhaps a few stares I received and some obvious whispers/gossip, but nothing too overt.  It was lovely.

I took the long way back to my hotel, and eventually my sweet came to scoop me up so we could head to Nishikasai.  We ate lunch in a quaint little restaurant, the Kiokhan (this spelling may be inaccurate).  After that, we wandered through the alleys and side streets, checking out homes, and all the while I told stories of our future in Japan, daydreaming like a silly girl.  I was already falling madly in love with this place.

We visited Roppongi, the giant mall, filled with overpriced clothing and, oddly, advertisements of European models strewn throughout.  I wondered, do young Japanese girls gain a complex from this sort of advertising?  Are they not confused as to why Japanese women aren't portrayed?  Of course, maybe this area is geared more towards tourists, and less to those actually living in Roppongi.  I'm not certain.

This place was not for us; fascinating to explore, but pricey and silly at that.  Compared to the humble Nishikasai, and other areas where children roamed on their bikes, mini-marts filled every other street, and homes modeled in a more traditional fashion, Roppongi seemed filled with snobbery - much like the upper middle class of Tampa, or Scottsdale.  In spite of this, everything was so clean and beautiful, with the exception of maybe two homeless people, poverty was not very apparent in Tokyo.
The day itself came to an early close for me; I would refresh myself for the rest of the week.

Japan - Day 1

I wanted to tell you all about my experiences, and attempt to give you a fine picture, enough that you could also experience it with me.  So here goes...

My first night in Japan was both utterly frightening and exciting.  I was initially very enthusiastic about my little adventure.  The plane ride from San Francisco to Haneda airport, Tokyo, was lighthearted and fun.  I met a groovy gentlemen who shared his story; about how he fell in love with Japan, and now travels there frequently for a living.  I slept, and drank and ate.  I pondered all the wonderful things I would do and see, museums, food, sake, and of course, cherry blossom trees (sakura).  It was so surreal, it didn't feel like anything was going on (with the exception that I was inside that I was inside an object floating some 30-35000 feet above ground level, all with a minute fear of crashing at the back of my mind).  The fear of flight was so worth it.  I wouldn't know how much until I landed, and immersed myself in the culture of Tokyo.

As I stepped off the plane, walking the length of a very large corridor and into the international flights terminal, it truly hit me.  I'm in fucking Japan!  This is an experience I'd honestly, never believed would happen.  I mean, I'd hoped for travel someday, but at this point in my life, it came very unexpected (and who knew all I had to do was go online and book the trip; it's that easy!).  After quite a bit of walking, I came to the security/customs check point.  This portion was relatively quick and painless, though my checked bag took quite a bit longer to appear on the carousel, and so I fiddled with other matters while I waited.

I soon learned that smart phones are highly complex and that I'm a bit techno-challenged, as my phone kept the status up of 'roaming', no matter how many times I selected the proper network.  To top it off, my boyfriend had notified me that many of the trains were shutting down for the night, and he was at least another hour out, causing my whole aura to change from bright happy yellows to shades of uncertainty.

I was alone.  At the airport.  In Tokyo.  Did you know they speak Japanese there?  Yeah, that's a thing.  The tears were making their severe attempts to gush from my face, as panic overtook and commentary that I'd made a terrible mistake coming to a foreign country all by myself.  Alas, I gritted my teeth together and told myself, 'you're not gonna let this break you.'  So, I did what any American girl with a credit card would do...I got myself a taxi.  And after much meandering and saying, 'taxi?' to several employees of the Haneda airport, I found myself in the back of a Tokyo cab.

This part deserves a little description.  Firstly, I was directed to my cab and greeted with a formal, 'Konbanwa.'  The driver, a quaint looking older Japanese man, put my large suitcase in the trunk and settled me in, opening and closing my door.  The seats were covered in fitted white lace, and it was so clean. He moved to the front right side (ya know, cause they drive on the left side of the road, fun), and though I began to show him my hotel reservation as to steer him in the correct direction, he waved at me like, 'it's cool lady, I got this.'  Turns out, he thought I was going back to the airport...I guess.  Because that's where he took me.  Yep.  He drove me about ten feet to the front entrance.  I can only imagine the look on my face, as I fumbled for words.  It took me a minute to remember my Google Translate app; without this, I'm not so certain it would've been very easy to communicate, 'I just got off plane, don't want to go back on plane, want to go to hotel and go sleep sleep.'

I'll spare you too much detail of the next few hours after this, but I will say that my lovely significant other ran around for over an hour (perhaps more like 2 hours) to 4 different Sotetsu Fresa Inn's before he found me.  Thanks honey. ;)

It felt nearly impossible to sleep, after fear, crying and the overwhelming realization that I was in a foreign land.  I was up and ready to rock early the next morning.  I was in Japan.  Time for adventure.

The fall from Earth's grace

Where mysteries lie, like cockroaches, hellbent on resistance to the plague of time, a secret garden of delights materializes; with reproach, they linger forth, in rows that mirror each other, a mirage of faceless beings. Their hearts are blackened, tainted, by the wasteland, a den of their own making.  For all your choices led to this, so do not beg forgiveness.  Bamboozled, you've all been, by the gods of Gluttony, of Gore and Greed; false idols full of charming deceit.  You've strayed from Her grace, so far removed - a distant cousin - unaffected, at first.  And She weeps in sympathy, for all her children.  Perhaps on some other realm, she thinks, a parallel universe, where butterflies roam free, unharmed; it would have been different.

Living in the Now

Now I'm stretching it
the elastic bands of time
creating universes in the mind.
Fear not, fellow souls
and continue forth
with me, down this road;
as we journey into
possibilities, yet unknown.
For it is NOW that we live
and never any other
moment, millisecond,
or microsecond of
reality.
Only, the eternal now
can be.

Friendly succubi

What is she?  She's laughing now, gripping at me.  I lay frozen, but swinging my hands and pushing back.  Am I awake?  This can't be happ-but it is.  But her laugh is funny - like a giggling kind of childish laughter, not the sinister kind - I realize.  She's laughing at me, cause I don't get it.

I suddenly feel her presence all around me, like tiny particles that fill empty space; she exists everywhere...and so do I.  In that moment I feel a wave of sensations throughout my body; a molecular level, negative and positive clashing and weaving together.

What is this place I've never seen?  It's so familiar.  There's a blur, as my eyes are closed, I realize...I'm sleeping?  But I'm here, I'm awake.  The room is the same, this is my room.  That's my dresser, my closet, there's the bedroom door.  I'm lying here and she's here.  She's fuzzy, and I can see her, though she isn't really here!

What does it mean?  Like I've tapped into the in-between.  Is this where we all go?  Doomed to the land of the 'living', lurking like shadows that are cast only by those with enough insight to really see?  It's just a dream.  I should just go back to sleep.  Ignore her, she'll go away.  Tomorrow she'll be a faint memory, a vivid dream.  You have them all the time; no need to fret.  Reality is tomorrow, when you wake up, and go to work, and do things...the real world..can't I just stay a little longer?  I think I like this place.  It's quiet in the fuzzy silence. 

third eye dream

Her heart was pounding, as she focused on the bee.  The flower was so bright, a soft but violent yellow.  And the bee itself was shades of yellow and brown, ethereally painted, like a dream.  He flew closer and closer to her, and almost delicately, landed, stinging her forehead.  Perfectly, between her brows.

Suddenly, she fell back, thrust into another space.  Voices were echoing faintly, becoming louder with each image.  She seemed to stand in mid air, but she couldn't get a sense of herself, her body.  Like floating, she stared forward.  A mushroom-like glowing entity sat before her. It was masked in shades of purple and blue, electrical pulses moving within it.  Like flashbacks she kept seeing images in her mind of broken children, hunger, pain, storms and other tragedies, the bulk of the human experience of suffering that existed only in news and textbooks.  She had little to compare in her own waking life.  The voice grew louder, a woman's voice, very plain and serious..."23 homes without electricity. No explanation."

Her heart pounded heavier and she cried within to wake up, wake up!  She was thrust forward again, projected it seemed, but with fear, she had to wake up.  It wasn't time.  She wasn't ready.  In the next minute, she was back in her apartment, lying on the tile floor.  She sat up, felt her forehead.  There was nothing. Just a dream..

Miscommunication and on being 'deaf' in the cell phone era

I haven't posted one of these rants in quite some time.  Hope you enjoy..

Is it possible that we are slowly becoming more and more 'deaf' by our lack of attention to those around us?  Stop for a moment and really consider how often you actually practice active listening to your friends, family, co-workers, etc., whilst texting that other person that's miles away, or checking your statuses on Facebook, Twitter, or whatever you fancy.  Perhaps neither of you are fully engaged in the conversation, as you both sit partially muted, intently gazing at the bright screen before you, a world full of possibilities, a pretend world where you exist in varying forms; as blogger, gamer, trend setter, podcaster, food critic for the Yelp app, app creator, Wikipedia updater, and on and on.  There are far more options in this new world, leaving the old world to sit silently, waiting for communication to once again flow from one organism to the next.  But it doesn't.

Instead, we are often confused by texts we receive, unless we practice proper text etiquette (textiquette?), or by comments and posts on our profiles.  Did he/she use a smiley face?  Was that made with an air of snarkiness (look it up, Urban Dictionary) or was she just being cheeky?  This may even thus manifest into our face-to-face interactions, as people respond in very passive ways, sometimes so blatantly that we can tell they haven't heard a word we are saying!  They may pass this off and say, "I'm sorry, I was distracted," or "Apologies, what did you say?" and worse, "What?"  The death of spoken language is upon us, I fear.  Will it be necessary to speak anymore, if we can simply type/text, all that we wish to say?  Even now, I type on this keyboard and transcend my thoughts across the WWW, without having to 'say' a thing.

Perhaps, though, I'm being too harsh.  But my mind wanders to a potential future, where we do not speak.  Would it be lovely and would we evolve into a form of psychic communication?  Or might we all become deaf and mute, consistently using our phone/device communication, to the point that we no longer require hearing or speaking to co-exist, to survive.  I suppose, the choice is ours...mostly.  It'll certainly be interesting to see.  And with any luck, we'll keep that sense, hopefully along with taste; I rather like that one.

~HB

Solving the world's problems one post at a time.

  

For A, on your birthday

If I could write a poem about you,
to tell you how I feel,
I would tell you all those things,
that make you ethereal;
and beautiful, for sure.
Like stars in heaven,
clusters of constellations,
and galaxies unknown;
energies flow
in a way I've never..
This experience is magic;
amidst chaos it whispers,
a quiet song of lovers,
feeling gentle in the moonlight.
Entangled in a womb of safety,
as your kisses heal a wounded heart,
a fragile spirit, searching for
something different, something pure.
And real, I feel
is the essence your being,
a lovely tenderness
that lifts my spirits;
as you take me to
better existences,
a journey
I'm wholly ready for,
I'll float,
and fly high above the clouds.
Where vulnerabilities lie
awake and fresh,
like new skin,
we sit quietly.
And I'll wait there with you,
holding on to
the bittersweet moments
of fate, and futures to be told.

Rant about T

Butterflies, baby smiles, a crisp winter morning after a fresh snow,
sunshowers, rainbows, mountain views and cresting waves.
This is how I feel about you.
Sunshine kissing your face, a rush in your stomach from a roller coaster, the stars and moon on a desert night, these things that I delight,
in, are nothing compared to the happiness you bring, or equal in comparison?

Your soul is bright and hovering like a giant guardian.
Shelter, comfort, safety.  My own light shines through, around you.
Compatibility's abound as if there was something cosmic, going on.  Can it be?
Perhaps, yes it certainly can.
You got what you've asked for, always you get, what you, put out.
So why not?

Something so lovely and tethering, keeps you from falling off,
from losing hope, for that desire.
In this lifetime, it happened. It's happening now, you can feel it.
Don't lose sight of the importance, the lessons.
It's cosmic, spiritual and beautiful.
Sometimes it'll be quiet and simple; even lovelier.

Fantasies of future's past, or yet to be.
Nothing is certain and yet everything, is possible.
Keep dreaming, I tell myself.
The dream is yet to unfold.
The dream is present, ever present.
Be bold.