Taken in my charming neighborhood. Posted from work, as always (Shinagawa). This photo shows only one of the reasons I love Tokyo so much. I look at it to burn the image in my mind.
This week my commute has been particularly crowded and my patience, tested. I first tried transporting myself to happy places. That only worked for a few days.
Then I tried channeling the Dalai Lama. Or Ghandi. Or Buddha. Silly thing called imagination took over. One thing led to another and the Dalai Lama, Ghandi, Buddha and Khalil Gibran (who joined the party in head) ended up on the train with me.
That imagery of them in Tokyo on my jam packed train and wondering what would happen if this were a reality, made me smile so much. I mean, can you imagine? What would they be wearing? Would the commuters even… notice? I guess I was similing too much, or maybe I giggled out loud because people started looking towards my direction.
Some even looked annoyed. Annoyed at what, I have no clue. Maybe because I was disturbing the peace? Or throwing people off their ‘every man for themselves all out anarchy’ mode by seeming… happy? Any which way, I was drawing attention to myself. Oops. New tactic time.
Today, I came up with the wonder game. Where I look at people with the furrowed eyebrows and wonder if they are as angry as they look. I wonder what time the pretty girl smashed into me with perfect make-up, hair woke up. If she knows urawazas (secret tricks) to speed up her gussying. Or if she wakes up at the butt crack of dawn.
I wonder if others have coping methods, or if they just accept reality as it is. I wonder if they are content or happy or if there is a difference. I wonder if they have the leeway to wonder…
Or maybe they’re thinking of what to eat for lunch. Like me, who got tired of wondering about others and re-focused on what makes me happy: food.
And before I knew it, I arrived at my desk.
Happy Friday! It’s the weekend! (^_^)/
"I'm from Libya," he said. I don't know what to say. It's as if he'd told me he'd just come from his father's funeral.
The first specialty coffee shop in Ikebukuro and Junkudo (bookstore) resonate.
Editing is interpreting.
The Riddle of Steel.
The man stands motionless in a crush of white-shirted salarymen, as they swarm past him, toward the single escalator.
Rêve de centre commercial-piscine
Birthday walk home