Nintendo Word Play

Did I really come here? Is this the place that I want to be? …where I want to stay?

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I changed my tires last month. Usually, in my short life living in Japan, I change my tires at the end of November. That’s just what I thought I had to do, that the law mandated such orders. “Change your tires now or risk penalties while driving in the snow-ridden fields of Miyagi Prefecture.” I heard insurance companies don’t cover drivers who operate a vehicle without snow tires during the winter’s permafrost of Northern Japan.

But today, I heard otherwise. Conversations about what was on the news during dinner with the neighbors turned to issues about the condition of my car. To their astonishment, I told them I changed my tires last month because I thought it was the deadline. “So early!” And when I asked when the deadline for winter tire changing was, I was told, “Whenever you feel the conditions are right”. So, on this particular day, as the night-time temperature dipped, when the icicles could be felt looming in the dark, starless sky, people all over the Tohoku region of Japan were scrambling to change their tires. There were 3 hour waits at the tire and car maintenance shops. And even though there’s no official order, in a country that has a certain way of doing everything from bowing to using the toilet, everyone flocked to do their winter business on the same day.

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Thursday, December 17th. Today it finally snowed. A bit late and not enough. Snow has become my new California pitter patter rain of childhood. Calming and cathartic. Except this one freezes and melts away anxieties, worries, and the disorders of life.

I look upon my generation with a growing ambivalence. A generation of lost youths, displaced by technology and the controlled world that our parents had given us. A wandering, lustful group of people that dream of the next locale and the next adventure, lost within their hazy minds their true purpose, with dreams of the future lost in the pains of their past.

And I envy the ones that take the leap, that jump into the waters of a new ocean without trepidation, without looking back or without care for their obligations. Sometimes I give sordid looks to the ones that have put their debts in their pockets and in the souls of their unborn children. That somehow those deficits will be repaid by another unwilling donor.

One glorious day all this wandering will come back to haunt us all. As the world and state crumble around us, we will lose the ability to raise ourselves up, and instead flee to the next destination on an itinerary of escape. God help us all :)

Yesterday was a glorious, unusually warm winter day in Japan. The sun shone brightly and my soul matched its warmth. Today, Friday the 13th, the weather is back to cold and dreary and so are my spirits. The pain of everything is sweeping over me again and I can’t seem to shake it this time.

And here, I can’t break down, here I have obligations and duties that need to be finished. Here the sorrow is unforgiving and the anguish is crippling. Just a few more hours and I can spiral away into the darkness by myself.

I’ve been soaring and crashing all week long and I don’t know when it’ll stop but I guess hurricanes have a way of doing that to a person. And even though I’ve readied myself for this storm, I don’t think I’m strong enough to battle it on my own this time.

He kept slipping, sinking to depths I never experienced. It was the first time I knew of such things. And he would disappear, flickering in and out of the night like a drunken imp. Happy and celebratory at times, violent and quick tempered at other instances. The imp’s voice was unrecognizable but there were signs that he was still with me. I tried to pull him back, I spent my energies trying to make the trans-possession leave him . I was the hub that night that kept all the forces of the world connected to him and eventually he slumbered, deep in the bowels of his demons.

And now I’m the one slipping…

I’m not quite back from Singapore and Bali. The pictures aren’t up on Flickr. Luggage stored away, presents given out, but my heart and soul haven’t been unpacked.

I gain a lot from my experiences while traveling and I left behind some trinkets and unnecessary baggage. I received an unexpected present from a new friend, gave an old pair of shoes to a new cousin, bought promised gifts from a lady on the beach, lost a irreplaceable pocket knife, gained unconditional kindness from a people who I knew nothing about before, and lost a great burden that’s been resting on my chest for too long. I gained new insights into old friendships and strengthened bonds on a new lifelong friendship. My old energy flooded back to me and the darkness of the winter seemed to lift.

I left with many great memories and returned with stomach issues. Hey you can’t make eggs without cracking an egg or three.

The winter’s creeping up on me. Stalking me in my shadows. And like the dementor’s kiss, its slowly draining the happiness and energy out of me (been reading Harry Potter again). I don’t talk about this much, this seasonal depression that I get, but I’ll tell you a story as a way for people to understand what afflicts me and so you can understand the mind of the crestfallen, sullen.

During the winter semester of my sophomore year in college I fell into the abyss. It felt like there was no warmth in this world, that the joy and pleasures of life ceased to exist. And so I would lay inanimate on our huge sofa and stare distantly past the television set. I wanted to drop out of school, I wanted to go far far away so I could let the darkness consume me, away from the people I cared about and away from the irregular pressures of life.

But instead I battled through the cold and dismal months of winter and decided to take a solo road trip during Spring Break up to Seattle. One man and a car driving up the windy roads of Pacific Coast 1, stopping at friends known and random to sleep, eating at fast food diners, all the while figuring out what the hell I was going to do and what I was really searching for.

When I got there, there was a strange awkward encounter with someone who helped show me a different view of this world. After lunch and goodbyes, I was leaving Seattle after staying only half a day. It wasn’t that I didn’t like the city, I had just found what I needed, a way to relieve some of the pressure that was building up in my system. And I never talked to that person again but I’m sure that there was an understanding between a pupil and his teacher, between a boy that had yet to live his life and a well worn traveler.

I returned home after a few more detours and a speeding ticket on highway 101. And when I got back to the regular world, I was stronger in spirit as if my soul had rushed back into me and the void was closed behind me.

Looking back at that moment in my life, I can see a lot of the mistakes that I made. I allowed myself to slip too deep into the darkness, I was passive against the waves of depression, and I didn’t let anyone else really understand what was going on inside of me. I pushed away the people that could help me and ruined some friendships that meant a lot to me at the time. But the winters after the darkness went unnoticed because I was already consumed with other matters, political organizations and romances, that distracted me from the shadows that loomed over me.

So now I am ready. Ready to face the onslaught of the dreary road ahead of me. I have allies near and far, experience and knowledge of what afflicts me, and the will to do the right thing for myself now.

Japanese summers are all about heat and humidity, especially humidity with the hygrometer peaking at the 94% range thus far. Spring’s sweet, cool breeze is forced to retreat by the sweat inducing wave of moisture. Its the antithesis to winter’s dry, freezing conditions that tells me I’m no longer in Southern California with its two seasons; hot summer and cool summer.

Japanese summer’s also mark the point in the JET calendar for transition. Its about saying hello to intolerable humidity and goodbye to good friends and strangers alike, for its the time that the new, rosy-eyed recruits come swarming into the country and the veterans and culturally-shocked casualties flee the island nation.

I’ve been starting the goodbye process early, its my way of fully showing appreciation to the people who’ve meant a lot to me in this short life. There have been the goodbyes that have ended with the promise of a future, perhaps another encounter on shores of a different ocean. And others that were abruptly terminated with an omnidirectional wave and a tossing of the last earth that buried good and bad times.

Goodbyes are always hard if you’re the type who opens yourself completely to other people.

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But on the bright side, I got a great bunch of people staying and the hope that the new wave of JETs will be able to fill in the gaps. So to leavers and stayers of Miyagi, I wish you all good luck in your next year of adventures.

Another year towards a resolution, another year away from the pain of living. In this sliding scale of life, I’ve learned a few things. And I still got a lot to learn, but the inertia is the only thing keeping me alive.

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My hair is starting to recede a little, I won’t be bald anytime soon but its a sign that the younger years of my life are creeping to a finale. Yet my body feels younger than ever, my joints have more fluidity and are able to withstand the impact of sports again. As I’ve grown older my spirit has been able to release some of the weight that’s been self-imposed on it. And I’ve been flying, spiraling at times but gaining strength so that one day I’ll be able to fly close to the sun.

I was always looking out for you, but you weren’t there for me to find.

I tried to protect you, but you weren’t there to be shielded.

I walked you home, but you weren’t there to walk beside me.

I said those words to you, but you weren’t there to listen.

…But I’m still there.

This New Year is about fresh starts. New endings and old beginnings. Its about starting over and reclaiming what’s mine.

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I have a friend. She only calls when she’s in trouble or life is so great that she needs to share the happiness with someone. I never hear from her when life is mundane, I never hear about her random musings or the daily struggles of life; only the pain and jubilation.

I guess that’s how my blog should be but the only time that I can talk is when things are so-so, when the calm settles in and I have time to collect my thoughts. My life has been constantly in inertia, always moving at lightning speeds, “from 0 to 60″, leaving my words and thoughts to catch up. And now I have free time to do just that.

Happy New Years!