From my first return to Japan in 2007

Tokyo 2007 — Dated April 7th

I’m in Tokyo right now.  You’d love the places I’ve been these past few weeks.  What would be more easily described by a proper writer, I’ll at least make an attempt.

I see strobing red lights on buildings that scrape the sky.  Open air, metal, stars, cement, taillights, and florescent bulbs that light the backs of the all-night cleaning crews, allowing the salarymen peace of mind, that no matter how messy this day was, tomorrow begins a new.  My tomorrow only brings me closer to home, a home which truly has never been.  I sit forty floors above my Shibuya.  Reminds me of the outsider I’ve become.  Each day, I walk my streets.  I drink at local bars.  I quietly crack an Asahi on the marble entryway of my old apartment.  My neighbors homes have been torn down, as my old will be done soon too.  I see my Dad in everything.  The tall businessman shoppings for gifts.  The white man eating alone at the bar.  The American reading the newspaper in the hotel lobby.  Traveling, working, to give his kin more opportunities than he ever imagined.  Now is my turn to branch out.  To make a difference.

And as I sit here, the emotions come to the front.  The Japanese whisky that was casked when I lived here, the cuban cigar, and the stress of wandering a familiar city, but feeling detached.  It all brought everything to the front.  A head-rush which was likely visible to anyone else sitting at the bar on either side of me.  This trip, thousands of miles from home and responsibility, people, things, has allowed me to think, without all those filters.  My time here is closing in on me.  I plan for my departure.  A last drink at my old apartment where my family was a FAMILY.  I’ll sit alone, and I’ll sip.  Realizing more in one moment there than all of those that lead up to this point.