To Japan actually.

I've been living in Nagasaki for a little over a month now. Nagasaki is a quaint peninsula on the southern island of Kyshu. It is wonderful to be living by the ocean again, but the mountains here are steeper than any I am used to in New York. For me, this place is like experiencing both previous stages of my life same time, its an interesting development for my mindset.

For the longest time the weather was strongly reminiscent of summer days in Florida. It was very nostalgic for me. It reminded me of a time stored in the back of my mind. Right now a cold front is rushing over from China; it feels like fall in New York. People are saying it will be back up to 25 Cecilius again soon.

I feel exceptionally lucky for being here. My obsession with grades and struggle with paperwork finally paid off and funding was found. I have moments of overwhelming emotion, like at Koshi-byo, when the musicians were playing in front of the shrine,my eyes filled with twears because I was just completely overwhelmed with gratefulness. Its been happening quite often actually.

I have been soaking it all in. I experienced the Kunchi festival, which is one of the most famous in Japan. I got a prime seat for watching the Dragon dance though downtown. A couple weeks ago I experienced an onsen in Unzen, which is a small tourist town on a volcanic mountain. The geysers were beautiful and the spring water for the onsen was fantastic. I climbed mount Inasa, I've seen a number of Buddhist and Shinto shrines and got my fortune, I've seen traditional musicians and a Jazz festival, walked down the streets of Dejima, and Huis Ten Bosch, I've pet a penguin, seen some Monkeys, took a nap in a park, and met indescribably wonderful people. I am greatful for all of it and everyone.

Last weekend I helped out at the school culture festival. The American students had a food stand, we made hamburgers, blooming onions, crab rangoon and cheesecake. I didn't expect that cooking meat would be so much fun. After the festival on Halloween I went with some friends to an elementary school to participated in Halloween activities with the children there. Halloween isn't very big in Japan but its gaining popularity. Ive noticed that small children tend to be shy and a little frightened when they see foreigners. Misa, a Japanese friend of mine, says she thinks it because they don't see foreigners very often, and that its even more surprising for them to meet foreign individuals that can communicate in Japanese. Growing up in America I suppose I took the populations cultural and racial diversity for granted.

After that we went to Karaoke in Sumiyoshi. We got questioned by the cops because there were a number of us wearing costumes (since it was Halloween) and it caused some alarm for the locals. Thank goodness for Misa, :)!

I found this book in a library. It was sitting outside with mountains and boxes of other books. It was being purged from the collection; it was being sold for a quarter. The price didn't matter because I didn't pay for it anyway.

I was thumbing though the paperbacks. The room was small and there were only a few other bibliophiles buzzing around me. I picked it up because the cover was simple, and I was intrigued by the two mackerel printed on the spine. It was titled "Kafka on the Shore".

I didn't read it for months. A couple weeks ago the guy I talk philosophy with at a bar mentioned the book. He is a lawyer and incredibly intelligent, so he makes for good conversation. He bought me a couple drinks and we started to speak literature. There was karaoke that night so we only caught hiccups of our conversation. After running though the traditional western authors we talked about eastern classics. I brought up "Kokoro"; he mentioned "Kafka on the Shore". He drove me home that night, and I decided I wanted to find my copy of that book.

It suites the story for it to be a stolen book. Its fitting that is sat in a box for months as I moved, and then once remembered, floated around the apartment for weeks before I nailed it down. It has a resonating effect. I read the story over the last 3 days, and it certainly left me thinking about things: not only the nebulous development of meaning and plot, but also what the author was trying to get across to me. In a way the novel is very existential, but it also is something quite different than that. The story will definitely change you, regardless of who you might be.

It got me thinking again, not that a person is capable of taking a hiatus from it, but it reminded me of how to think. I kept remembering the night in the emergency room. I was sitting tightly among many people and trying to keep my distance. I couldn't breathe, thats why I was there; I had a fever of 104 for 5 days, and I couldn't breathe. They made me keep a light blue mask tied around my face, which only impacted my breathing problem. They kept taking my oxygen reading and assuring me my levels were fine. All I could think about was my physical state, and all I could concentrate on was trying to breathe normally. It was very corporeal. It was a very different way of experiencing. It was an event leading up to a catalyst, just like "Kafka on the Shore". In very different ways both the hospital and the book are causing change. And change is fundamental to any sort of living.

There is the problem: life in this apartment has been quiet and steady. When life appears to be satisfactory it is always the worst, because you don't tend to pay any attention to it. You end up wasting something important; whether its time, energy or yourself. Its like a virus. Sometimes all you can do is let the steady life run its course, until there is a change, a passion, a breakthrough.

Maybe I'm on the edge of one of those now. They aren't terribly rare after all, they happen to everyone, and probably many many times in the course of their lives.

Lauren told me that this particular point is like a desert. Maybe I'll have to think about that for a while.

Yesterday morning I opened my inbox to a lovely Japanese email. It stated that I was going to be given the JASSO scholarship for my time abroad. Basically the Japanese-powers-that-be will be providing me with 80,000 yen (800+ dollars) a month while I'm in their country continuing to studying their language. That pretty much rocks. Because of the JASSO, saving up from my full-time job this summer. and the other scholarships, this is looking like its going to be one awesome trip.

On the flip side of news: my car is still out of commission. I'm trying to find a part that they don't really make anymore. Anyone want to help search the web? I don't know too many web secrets these days.

She really is dead though, or at least part of her. It's a shame really.

I had some incredibly interesting dreams due to my steady fever for the most of today. I think you interpret things differently when you're sick. Its gotta be a temperature thing.

Its a beautiful combination, but a ephemeral one.

I'm mostly moved. I started work yesterday, which I have to leave for in moments. It is not half bad, and a quarter good. Overall, everything is a pretty comfortable situation before I go abroad. These will be precious slow days before September.

My mother is going to visit in June. It has been about a year and a half since I last saw her. Its so easy to get too busy. I'm going to take her kayaking, hiking and to New York City. I want to see Wicked on broadway, but perhaps it would be more financially freezable to take her to one of the many museums instead.

I'm feeling the itch to go out dancing tonight. That is one thing I am going to miss about New Paltz, there isn't as good of a nightlife here.

I'm looking forward to getting my tattoo touched up next week. Lyss recommended me to a local tattoo artist for my next one. Perhaps this summer?

A few moments ago I finished packing most of it. I've been at it since I woke up. Thats what I get for letting things distract me until now.

I'm having a caravan of friends come and help me move tomorrow. Its not a far move, but over a couple mountains. It will be nice to live with my nephew, even if it is for a short time.

Two years in one place seems like too long to me. I hope I become more nomadic with age. There really isn't enough time to spend all of it in one place. At least thats what I think.

Well fuck.

I would if I knew what was missing. Its not something to be sad about, its just the same feeling at the end of every night.

They turn off the lamp lights one by one and send a call that they are now closed. I find myself standing, and looking people in the eye without hesitation. Everyone usually gathers and leaves, and I follow. Its a feeling of being dissatisfied, and I can't place it.

There isn't any pity.

When something important happens you relate back to it. You find correlations between events happening now and how you felt then. For me music impacts, and I relish in lyrics that hold meaning towards the event:

風に吹かれて花が散る,雨に濡れてもはなが散る,咲いた花ならいつ散る,おなじさための恋のはな。。。

I guess my relationship with Geoff wasn't strong after all.

I've been doing a lot of thinking about things I wish I hadn't thought about. But I suppose everyone comes to a juncture when they have to take a reprieve, and analyze the way things have been going.

To sum it up, Ive had a run of bad luck.

I've been taking the necessary steps, and doing the necessary things, in order to put my life in a better order. Working at a grocery store is depressing, but necessary. It is a huge step down from working at the design firm, but at least it is only 8 minutes away. With the condition of my car that is a good thing. It is also more permanent; I have it until I don't want it anymore. Whether or not the income will continue to cover my bills is a different factor. However, with the way the economy is I am grateful to have a job at all.

I'm working on, and will continue to work on, tshirt designs to submit to a company in the hopes of additional income. I'm looking for more freelance work. I have also decided to sell many of my unnecessary belongings on ebay. Most of the DVD's, video games and books I am selling are no longer entertaining to me anyway.

My wallet was stolen, with the money my mom gave me for Christmas, and half my paycheck. Its gravely unfortunate. I reported it to the police, but its been a week, and I doubt it will turn up now.

Not everything is bad. I will be with Geoff a year next month. Of course we have had disagreements, we are human, but over all we are strong. My anxiety problems have been considerably better and under more control since I have started medication and treatment. My roommates are awesome, both of them. I'll be moving again in June but for now my living situation is pretty damn enjoyable.

今、雪がたくさんふっている！

This has been some kind of year, personally, economically and cataclysmically. I hope things go better for everyone in 2009.

I wonder what it takes for a complex individual to be happy. Mostly, things that we think will make our lives easier will only disrupt the pattern, and then, because it is outside the habitual, we become uncomfortable. We adjust and then find something else to complain about. We are captives of our own drama.

But in some cases there are things that can truly be implimented in order to solve something. Childcare provided for a busy single mother is a good example of this.

It seems unfair to me how individuals are isolated. We tend to blow their problems off as"it was their decision" or "they can manage" or "she is a tough cookie". They can manage, but is it easy. Often in order to manage they have to give up a part of themselves, or change in a way that hurts.

I am self-centered, and so are the better of us.

Flobots is a truly amazing band. The are political and have a great sound. If you have not listened to their album "Fight with Tools" I highly recommend you do. Chop chop.

We were on our way to pick up my nephew's prescription. Logan had been sick with a fever and a rash. The shortened version is that we took him to the hospital twice, and Nikki didn't have the money for his medicine at the moment.

On the highway we saw a woman broken down on th side of the road. It was ninety degrees and clear. The tire was shredded and nonexistent. The rear of the SUV had been hit (not that day I believe) and the trunk wouldn't open. Geoff salvaged the spare tire out from her trunk by climbing though the backseat. We talked to her about college, New Jersey and Burning Man as we fixed her tire. Geoff did most of the work. He is amazing and wonderful. Sometimes I feel that being with him helps me become a better person, or at least more of the person I should be.

When we got back in the car we couldn't find Logan's prescription. We both got out of the car so quickly that we couldn't remember where we moved it. Geoff was holding it during the drive, and he assumed he has put it in his pocket. It dawned on me that it may have fallen out when he climbed though the backseat to get the spare.

For a split moment I felt like the most irresponsible person in the world. For a second I regretted stopping, I regretted helping. Because I helped this stranger I may have harmed my nephew. I was irrational of course, but I got quite upset.

The worst had not happened, we found the prescription. This event was important, it was a catalyst; it helped me blatantly realize an ugly part of myself. I suppose I always knew about it, but not to this particular extent. When I get emotional I tend to try to blame the circumstances on external elements. It was not this womans fault that I misplaced the prescription when I decided to help her, it was mine for not watching where it was put. In the heat of the moment I can never mentally or verbally admit that. The rush of emotion makes me selfish and stubborn. I'm going to work on that now.

There was not fight between Geoff and I about misplacing it, nor were any hurtful words said. It was found and we continued on our way. Most of the ugly realizations happened internally and within minutes. It just felt significant. And it probably was. At least on a personal level, if nothing else.

If I had more than twenty minutes I would probably wright something of personal significance. But I don't, which is probably just as it should be.

I experienced a slice of Manhattan nightlife, which is actually pretty tasty. I caught a ride with Rachel, so their really wasn't a reason not to go. Their was a restaurant that looked unmistakably familiar (I must have gone to one of their branches in the city before) and a nightclub with the name of a takeout place: China 1. Dancing and liquor and awesome new people.

We didn't get back to Mike's in the Bronx until after six the next morning. I slept on his couch, Geoff on the other.

The next morning I had to meet Geoff's grandparents, who live in Queens. Being at the point where I have to meet his extended family is a little unnerving for someone like me. But maybe its as it should be. His family is as spectacular as he is.

I got caught in the rain. It was a wonderful release.

I got Geoff's mom to go to Rock Da Posta with us. Best food ever.

The weekend left my back in more pain than I remember having in a long time. You only get once around, so it is worth it.

Time for work.

I'm nervous, but that is probably natural. I hope this job will find me well suited. Scott told me to be humble, its a good strategy, I think.

On the freelance job I currently have, the client loved my first draft. Which means that there might not be a second draft and unlikely a third. Consequentially this may contribute to getting paid sooner. Friday, Friday would be great. I want to take Heidi out to lunch, to repay her for her kindness.

Today I noticed that it is getting harder to say goodbye to Geoff. After a while I concluded that it is probably a good thing. Despite the remorse.

He will have a two week break from school soon. I think I am going to hold off getting a second job until he leaves. These four day weekends will allow me to spend more time with him. I can linger in the red a little while longer. I just need to line up another freelance gig.

It upsets me that everyone I care about is having financial issues, including myself. I hope things change soon.

I saw a man at the Stop-n-Shop intersection with a "will work for food" sign. I told him I didn't have any work, but I bought him water and muffins. And the economy continues to fall.

I may head to Jersey next weekend. I wonder if Elaine will want some company on Friday.

I was having trouble getting started, and I suppose I still am. I'll take care of everything today though, I've planned it, though I've had trouble following those lately.

I have a lot to say, but I keep formulating nothing. Its probably because I don't have a beginning, but everything is circular. Even this reasoning.

Cold green tea in the summer is glorious; its a relief from the heat. It has been exceptionally hot here, hotter than forty two degrees latitude should be. It reminds me of Florida; you can feel the sun changing your skin. The mist in the morning reminds me of southern fog, and the thunderstorms remind me of heat lightening. I miss the way it would rain in Florida, I miss hurricanes and their rage. You don't see that here. In all the places I have traveled I have noticed that the sky and rain are always different.

The temperature also reminds me of global warming and the energy crisis. It is amplified by the staggering 4.25 dollar-a-gallon gas price. I don't see a fortunate alleviation in our future either. Let's hope on Brock. Even if you can't really hope you should pretend to; the idea of hope will get you though the summer. It is interesting how one concept affects an entire state of mental health.

A friend of mine pointed out how the heat is affecting people. There are slight and drastic differences. It is because there is no central air in New York, unless you are in a department store, but even then it is hit or miss. The temperature made me ugly the other day. My back was aching and I was tired from kayaking all day on Mongoup lake. I hate when I lose myself like that. I hate my temper. It doesn't show itself often these days, but moments like those remind me that it is still there. I am so stubborn. I immediately apologized for snapping at him. He forgave me, he is wonderful. I love him.

I got the internship I applied for at a graphic design firm. Its a small firm, about 45 minutes away from here. The guy taught at Pratt and was the creative director of a firm in Manhattan. I am excited, I am going to learn a lot and improve my portfolio at the same time. It is a paid internship too, so even though it is only 20 hours a week I will be making about as much as I would working 30 hours at your average retail job. I will probably get a second job though. I thought I already had one, but that didn't work out as planned.

I'm not following plans lately, so maybe it is for the best anyway.

Everything is pending, and I hate it when that happens.

Days blend together when you are waiting, its inconvenient. I know I don't function well in times like these. I feel half asleep, but recuperating. I suppose everything has pros and cons.