A leisurely day in Tokyo
So I’ve spent the last 3 hours doing absolutely nothing while thinking I should eventually quit browsing weird sites and actually do work.
No such luck, obviously, for someone like me.
I thought I might as well just write some less angsty stuff here on Waxin’ Lyrical for a change.
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I like living in Tokyo. I really do.
Yes, it’s true that I still feel like a foreigner here pretty often, since my Nipponese skills are still far from fluent. Yes, it’s true that I still can’t think of this place as my home - I don’t know enough friends I can depend upon for absurd favors, I don’t know enough places to claim as a haunt of mine, and culturally some things still befuddle me.
But life here in Tokyo, right here, right now, is actually very comfortable.
Work is, quite frankly, a joke compared to the continual ass-raping I’ve recieved from Cornell. The students here as well in ICU, are a far cry from the self-motivated, dedicated to excellence smart gits that push me to my limits and beyond so often that surround me back there in cold Ithaca. And while the academic side of me once again realises the inherent value of the sickening amount of tuition my parents pay to Cornell, the more… laid-back side of me realises that this is more the kind of life that I would like to live.
There is time enough here, time and the accumulation of 12 million other people, that allows me to indulge myself every so often. Time to do crazy stuff like line up outside Akihabara for the Playstation 3 launch, time to sing Karaoke with a bunch of rowdy misfits till 6 in the morning. Time to sit on a grassy knoll and realise life isn’t all that bad. Time to appreciate the turning of the leaves, a crimson blaze framed among a sea of yellow. Time to spend on Sunday nights, in a smoky little jazz bar, watching somewhat bemusedly at the facial contortions my friend makes as she loses herself in the music of her twinkly fingers. Time to encourage others to not think so much about the future, to love someone here and now for all she’s worth, though that same philosophy hasn’t exactly served me well so far. Time to reaffirm to myself that I *am* a proud wolf standing alone in the dark. Time to sample the little pleasures, like getting hungry at 3am and being able to cycle to the 7-11 a block down from my apartment. Time to remember the magic I felt when I was young as my housemate brings back some dry-ice from Baskin Robbins’ and we spend half an hour playing with the stuff. Time to make my way to a faraway subway station with nothing but a map, my bicycle, and some sense of luck and direction. Time to attend a Noh performance and realise there really is nothing more to it than just people going “YOOOOOO~~~~” all the damn time. Time to propose a toast to friends, to mean it, and to drink it all down in a gulp. Time to wonder why the fnark people like drinking so much as my head pounds so much from all the alcohol I can’t even sleep.
There is time here, for all of these things, and more. This is the life I wanted - the kind of life balancing both school work and time for friends, for myself and the crazy acts of insanity I make myself do so often to convince myself that I am not nobody. This is the kind of life I had at Cornell during that first magical summer, before regular classes took over and decided it was time to kick the ass-raping machine into high gear and never let up.
Indeed, now that I look back at it, life back at Cornell was actually pretty bleak, save for one person being there for me.
Before I came, I asked her several times if I should come. I told her if she were to say the word I’d abandon all thought of coming here to Tokyo. She told me to go, and so I did. Now that she’ll no longer be there, I sometimes dread thinking what it means to go back to Cornell.
But those are dark thoughts for another day, another time. For now though, there is time aplenty - time enough to convince me I might make something of myself yet. Here, there is still time to live, to dream. Here, there is still time to appreciate each day as it goes by, simply, slowly, gently. Here, there is still time for me to wonder what I’ll make for dinner tonight, for me to look forward to Nodame Cantabile on Monday nights. Here, there is still time for me sit leisurely in a cafe watching the world pass me by, clad in fashion most fine.
Here, there is still time to dream.
-Stranger