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..