tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91690810150273397302024-03-05T22:43:10.484+09:00The Tokyo Connection\@-@/http://www.blogger.com/profile/09097949808192078943noreply@blogger.comBlogger155125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9169081015027339730.post-67259604720758107822013-01-08T15:22:00.000+09:002015-09-07T12:28:29.194+09:00How to perform a meltdown, how to restart a life: the second weekend in the islands<br />
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I guess that you can take the boy out of the island, but you can never take the island out of the boy (insert cf).<br />
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The second weekend back home was spent with friends from college days. A quick two-hour bus ride south of Manila brought us to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Puerto_Galera,_Oriental_Mindoro" target="_blank">Puerto Galera</a> where over the weekend we owned a boat, and a few unmanned islands. The sea and the skies were just gorgeous as usual, and everything felt great.<br />
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The food just taste tastier when the air is always clean, salty, and warm. Hours are uncountable, revelries are listless but wonderful, the sun is a king, and the stars are all grown up constellations, not just some isolated bashful flickers in the night time . \@-@/http://www.blogger.com/profile/09097949808192078943noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9169081015027339730.post-28339060672156015132013-01-06T05:37:00.000+09:002015-09-07T12:30:40.642+09:00How to perform a meltdown, how to restart a life: the first weekend in the islands<br />
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A departure begets an arrival. I have finally landed back in the islands, and these past four weekends have been simply wonderful. There is an overflowing comfort and joy from friends and families, not to mention the eternal warmth of the tropical weather, Saturday nights spent in the beach, home-cooked meals, dirt-cheap beer, and cable TV. So far, I would like to think that I am doing pretty well in handling the post-Tokyo hangover.<br />
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Bantayan Island, Cebu, Philippines\@-@/http://www.blogger.com/profile/09097949808192078943noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9169081015027339730.post-35981797157911904312012-12-26T03:56:00.003+09:002015-09-07T12:35:11.356+09:00How to perform a meltdown, how to restart a life: the last weekend in the city<br />
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How uncanny to leave a city for good while it was wearing off all forms of life. It felt like as if no one was winning, and that even mornings looked like sunsets.<br />
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During the last days, I took a thousand photos of sunsets all over the city: at the university in the morning, at Akihabara at mid-day, at Kanagawa in mid-afternoon, in O-okayama in the early evening. Funny how sunsets look all the same everywhere, yet feel so different everytime.<br />
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Tokyo was yellow beneath my last footsteps, a proof that my lonesome city was colorful even during goodbyes. I remember now <a href="http://tokyoconnection.blogspot.com/2008/09/arrived.html" target="_blank">how I described Tokyo during my first days four years back</a>. This time, when I left, it was a cold rainy Monday morning and Tokyo bled white all the same. As the limousine bus I took from Shibuya cut across the city on its way to Narita, my favorite city fixtures weren't saying hello.<br />
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Behind the frosted glass of the bus window, the <a href="http://tokyoconnection.blogspot.com/2009/07/tokyo-tower.html" target="_blank">Tokyo Tower </a>was ashen, and looked as commonplace as the other radio towers dotting the city. Has someone even noticed it this morning, I wondered. I take that perhaps, I was the only person in the world who took a photo of it that day, gracing my unmistakable departure, my sweetest goodbye to my most favorite city in the planet thus far.<br />
<br />\@-@/http://www.blogger.com/profile/09097949808192078943noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9169081015027339730.post-45967464913496351602012-10-05T00:47:00.001+09:002012-10-30T04:38:14.630+09:00My favourite tropical hideaway <iframe width="500" height="281" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/ADNgEHFDYzo" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>\@-@/http://www.blogger.com/profile/09097949808192078943noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9169081015027339730.post-69446541560323568442012-09-19T06:51:00.002+09:002015-09-07T12:39:14.562+09:00Summer in Nagoya<br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/46243415@N05/8001024074/" title="2 by the tokyo connection, on Flickr"><img alt="2" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8443/8001024074_d14f0d5bae.jpg" height="380" width="500" /></a><br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/46243415@N05/8001021691/" title="3 by the tokyo connection, on Flickr"><img alt="3" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8448/8001021691_edb3cc8096.jpg" height="380" width="500" /></a><br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/46243415@N05/8001020447/" title="5 by the tokyo connection, on Flickr"><img alt="5" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8038/8001020447_49b696bac2.jpg" height="380" width="500" /></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/46243415@N05/8001021119/" title="4 by the tokyo connection, on Flickr"><img alt="4" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8315/8001021119_03f985f374.jpg" height="380" width="500" /></a><br />
This year’s summer is particularly arduous--- I had to move to Nagoya last June and had to break all that is routine in Tokyo. It was just a hot mess really, but thanks to so many people who were always welcoming, helpful, loving and very kind. The stay was memorable, something I can make a good sigh for, now that it's over.\@-@/http://www.blogger.com/profile/09097949808192078943noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9169081015027339730.post-6082465595652856452012-08-23T01:10:00.002+09:002015-09-07T12:40:16.148+09:00Instagraming the times, 001<img alt="instagram1" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8291/7838103086_83e660c7e4.jpg" height="250" width="500" /><br />
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There was this unrecorded time between fall and winter last year when nothing really mattered just because nothing really appeared or disappeared or has changed, and cool mornings and afternoons start and culminate the cycle of my day. I let Sigur Rós sang me things, and everything felt permanent even just for awhile.<br />
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The walks were long because they didn't feel empty, but rather were light and inquisitive, and I'd wish the streets would just never break off at my doorstep because I swear I could go on forever. I could spend the 4 o'clocks waiting for everything and nothing, end the sentences of my conversations with a fleeting comma,<br />
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forget about dinner, sleep, love, condom, and be a mixture of sadness and joy in inappropriate proportions yet feel and look the same. Nothing was hard on the heart that's feeling, time has no potential or aspirations and no instances of defeat- not even the idea of an end. The weather was mild and nicotine fixes became unessential. Even to remember the slightest of these things now mean nothing to me, nothing at all.\@-@/http://www.blogger.com/profile/09097949808192078943noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9169081015027339730.post-63408279346603140312012-07-31T02:00:00.003+09:002015-09-07T12:42:25.958+09:00Greek buildings<div>
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Athens, 2012.\@-@/http://www.blogger.com/profile/09097949808192078943noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9169081015027339730.post-77165437743534042652012-07-16T01:30:00.000+09:002015-09-07T12:44:36.625+09:00Pool<img alt="003" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7110/7493181356_34d1e57536.jpg" height="380" style="background-color: white;" width="500" /><br />
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When I was nine, our neighbour was a rich, old couple that owned a pool.<br />
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During summer, when days were unbearable, they fill the pool, much to the frolic of the kids in the neighbourhood. I remember spending that summer swimming, diving, floating, brooding over the movie Titanic which just came out of the theatre that season, running back home all wet to grab lunch, head back to the pool, swimming, diving, floating, brooding over the movie Titanic which just came out of the theatre that season, until most surface of my back was covered with burnt skin. I would spend the whole afternoon trying all possible tricks and water acrobats I could imagine.<br />
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The best part, however, was floating for hours with eyes closed, and just hearing nothing but the flapping of water between the lobes of my ears, opening my eyes and realise that too much exposure to sun has made me totally but temporarily blind.<br />
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How did you spend your summer when you were nine?<br />
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Rhodes, 2012. Greece.<br />
(My toes were wet.)\@-@/http://www.blogger.com/profile/09097949808192078943noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9169081015027339730.post-88606181204938146422012-07-03T21:33:00.000+09:002012-07-04T10:16:55.586+09:00Bags<img alt="010" height="380" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8011/7493179946_bdbf850f09.jpg" width="500" />
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I’m growing a zit at my right eye bag. How retarded is that? Aren’t eye bags supposed to be oil-free and have no pores? Then how come this, now, really?<br />
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Anyway, I’m back to reading old-school, paperback books lately. I know this isn’t just a phase as I have often done in the past. The difference from former attempts is mainly I’m more engrossed, or seemingly so, this time. This is a surprise considering how I have acquired the attention span of a goldfish recently (grad school, I dare you). I’ve long waited for an empty time, too, and a recent trip has given me just that.<br />
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This whole reading thing, however, is currently giving me a big problem: I feel sleepy all the time. Like all, the, time. Like even when I defecate (not that it needs a fully awakened state to do so), or when I walk (life threatening, I suppose), or when I do the reading itself (very anticlimactic, really). A beneficial trade-off is that I am able to save my supply of Xanax; also, sitting alone with a book after a meal at the school’s cafeteria has never before become this less stressful.<br />
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I’m close to finishing my current book, and now looking for the next. A friend has recommended “50 shades of grey”, what with all the bdsm involved as I was told, and the presently growing cult-following (<strike>of the fetishes</strike> of the book). I’m just hoping Japanese bookstores have already gotten copies as I am not really the Kindle kind of guy.<br />
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Anyway, photos above are from the parliament building in Athens' Syntagma Square. I went there exactly a week after their recent election. Believe me, things aren't as bad
as they are vilified in the news.\@-@/http://www.blogger.com/profile/09097949808192078943noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9169081015027339730.post-70314357681704587752012-06-26T06:19:00.000+09:002012-06-26T06:19:15.094+09:00Good feeling, won't you stay with me just a little longer?<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/46243415@N05/7443163384/" title="006 by the tokyo connection, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8008/7443163384_962cdea825.jpg" width="500" height="380" alt="006"></a>
<a href="http://youtu.be/KhedKAhHqK8">Good Feelin</a> by the Violent Femmes\@-@/http://www.blogger.com/profile/09097949808192078943noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9169081015027339730.post-43795764332143431102012-03-16T07:30:00.011+09:002015-09-07T12:47:35.537+09:00Dealing with the cold<br />
<img alt="" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7182/6839633352_f5614edae5.jpg" height="375" width="500" /><br />
Sapporo, summer 2010.<br />
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Kyoto, summer 2009<br />
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Yokusuka, summer 2008<br />
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An eternal summer soundtrack: Natural Calamity's "<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MxjEvFHEYn4">Dark water & Stars</a>."<br />
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I'm literally dreaming of summer.\@-@/http://www.blogger.com/profile/09097949808192078943noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9169081015027339730.post-80195265559422978152012-02-13T04:42:00.000+09:002012-02-13T04:42:45.310+09:00An old fart<img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7201/6864529571_3bdd38c407.jpg" width="500" height="375" alt=""><br />
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In winter, there is this certain hunger that feels nothing else but cosmic. <br />
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It seems like a black hole has birthed between the rib cages. Then, it starts to consume slowly, almost painstakingly, all matter known to science, starting from the very pit of a small body. The hunger strikes at the first sound of a gut, wrenching in emptiness. The emptiness then slowly grows to scalar destinations, like how the milky-way grows: to fringes that know no boundary but just the turning of voids upon voids. <br />
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This hunger inquires the capability of the mind itself, in measuring the untold places that a full stomach can’t grasp. It lasts on the minutes that the body can tolerate its isolation from anything that gives it life. During this time, only the most basic of science works; the life-forms in the space that is the stomach now feed on the simplest forms of glucose, the ones that are easiest to break down to create heat. Soon, the emptiness vacates, as near-freezing temperatures occupy. The sound growls even more, though not howling but certainly not a whisper. Then for a moment, the space is trapped within a space. Within a hair of a second, the black hole stops absorbing; the dark matter is burgeoning, and an explosion is poised to be cataclysmic. <br />
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A Fart. The Fart, after all, is god.\@-@/http://www.blogger.com/profile/09097949808192078943noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9169081015027339730.post-43528156172744620882012-01-27T04:39:00.004+09:002015-09-07T12:51:20.093+09:00Slow routine<br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/46243415@N05/6766811721/" title="0126122 by the tokyo connection, on Flickr"><img alt="0126122" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7172/6766811721_07417fa32a.jpg" height="375" width="500" /></a><br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/46243415@N05/6766811395/" title="0126121 by the tokyo connection, on Flickr"><img alt="0126121" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7023/6766811395_53a99d5235.jpg" height="375" width="500" /></a><br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/46243415@N05/6766812195/" title="0126123 by the tokyo connection, on Flickr"><img alt="0126123" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7169/6766812195_68d8fec307.jpg" height="375" width="500" /></a><br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/46243415@N05/6766812745/" title="0126124 by the tokyo connection, on Flickr"><img alt="0126124" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7149/6766812745_1c5114890a.jpg" height="375" width="500" /></a><br />
On the way to work today.\@-@/http://www.blogger.com/profile/09097949808192078943noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9169081015027339730.post-7253847896904561242012-01-23T05:24:00.004+09:002015-09-07T12:57:03.130+09:003 winters ago<br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/46243415@N05/6743574921/" title="200912 by the tokyo connection, on Flickr"><img alt="200912" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7175/6743574921_a25bf7ef80.jpg" height="375" width="500" /></a><br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/46243415@N05/6743567175/" title="20091 by the tokyo connection, on Flickr"><img alt="20091" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7151/6743567175_98d2eae0d9.jpg" height="375" width="500" /></a><br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/46243415@N05/6743572449/" title="20099 by the tokyo connection, on Flickr"><img alt="20099" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7017/6743572449_a7434fc631.jpg" height="375" width="500" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/46243415@N05/6743571329/" title="20097 by the tokyo connection, on Flickr"><img alt="20097" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7163/6743571329_cc05a9eef2.jpg" height="375" width="500" /></a><br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/46243415@N05/6743570717/" title="20096 by the tokyo connection, on Flickr"><img alt="20096" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7031/6743570717_e3fa108f75.jpg" height="375" width="500" /></a><br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/46243415@N05/6743573255/" title="200910 by the tokyo connection, on Flickr"><img alt="200910" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7024/6743573255_64abc07f68.jpg" height="375" width="500" /></a><br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/46243415@N05/6743568009/" title="20092 by the tokyo connection, on Flickr"><img alt="20092" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7026/6743568009_9b03033d37.jpg" height="375" width="500" /></a><br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/46243415@N05/6743568381/" title="20093 by the tokyo connection, on Flickr"><img alt="20093" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7029/6743568381_7706b284db.jpg" height="375" width="500" /></a><br />
I dug some old photos taken some 3 years ago, when I was still living in Yokohama, and school was a 2-hour commute. I wonder how Aobadai looks like nowadays.<br />
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Keep warm, everyone.<br />
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\@-@/http://www.blogger.com/profile/09097949808192078943noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9169081015027339730.post-29437183801919987982012-01-17T04:17:00.000+09:002015-09-07T12:59:24.935+09:00Hometown glory<br />
<img alt="" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7003/6709460465_489e838330.jpg" height="375" width="500" /><br />
Manila, Chirstmas 2012<br />
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There was a December, when I swam at my hometown's beach at midnight, that I saw a million stars, and I knew at that moment that it took me too long, or I have gone too far only to be consumed by a seizure of the most beautiful paralysis, droned by the salty waters of this place I grew up in.<br />
<br />
(Or maybe it was just the beer, and the small hiss of pot).\@-@/http://www.blogger.com/profile/09097949808192078943noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9169081015027339730.post-23463649920290502552011-11-14T11:09:00.001+09:002015-09-07T13:05:07.904+09:00The October that I did not exist<br />
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<img alt="" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6230/6342824572_625f7a8126.jpg" height="375" width="500" /><br />
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<br />
It's funny how a month has passed unnoticed because where was I last October.<br />
<br />
There was also an illusion of the self, wanting to miss so many people, because a walk home at past 3 in the morning can be quite lonesome at times, especially with the growing smell of cold autumn finally surrounding.<br />
<br />
Where was I, really?\@-@/http://www.blogger.com/profile/09097949808192078943noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9169081015027339730.post-56667581597474148732011-09-27T02:55:00.000+09:002015-09-07T13:06:11.049+09:00Dear Tokyo,<br />
<img alt="" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6180/6185580629_84167f5f1b.jpg" height="375" width="500" /><br />
Like the fading smell of a perfume, you put all these beautiful emotions on my wrists,<br />
everyday that I walk around these semi-autumnal days, where clouds are light,<br />
the breeze with the tiniest hint of a passing summer, I realize that I already will miss you,<br />
for the specific reasons that only my heart can identify in the longer days of the eventual break-up.<br />
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Bon Iver plays, For Emma.\@-@/http://www.blogger.com/profile/09097949808192078943noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9169081015027339730.post-5728158327394318092011-08-07T20:39:00.000+09:002015-09-07T13:10:28.224+09:00The hot air balloons<br />
<img alt="" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6131/6017478892_780d3557b2.jpg" height="375" width="500" /><br />
<img alt="" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6002/6016927183_d9f111958e.jpg" height="375" width="500" /><br />
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<img alt="" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6133/6017476326_95f2338949.jpg" height="375" width="500" /><br />
Sendai, 2011<br />
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Often times, I imagine being carried by a hot air balloon, alighting at any place the imagination can fabricate. I'd usually choose a quaint, little Japanese neighborhood with roughly a few dozen houses, and where an old izakaya defines the nightlife, or an old local train station concludes the very heart beat of the whole town. There is always a backstory in my head, mostly romantic in nature, typifying the beautiful complexities of a rustic Japanese life, where years are measured by how saltier the sea breeze becomes each passing summer.<br />
<br />
I am sure the little towns along the coastline of Miyage would have been the perfect airports of my hot air balloon. Seeing how these towns were washed out to ruins just make me realize that some place remains beautiful even if they were completely scathed to utter mess.<br />
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Opus from Haruka Nakamura's Arne<br />
<br />\@-@/http://www.blogger.com/profile/09097949808192078943noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9169081015027339730.post-21795097945552662692011-07-09T15:26:00.000+09:002015-09-07T13:11:07.318+09:00Summer 11<br />
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<img alt="" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6014/5917350941_bed455d662.jpg" height="375" width="500" /><br />
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I have not posted a single thing for the past months!<br />
Anyway, turned a year older a couple of weeks ago, went out of town this week (but without the cam) and did lots of things that will keep my excitement rolling in the next months.<br />
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Some photos from a few weeks back. It's damn hot in Tokyo nowadays. I can't help but pant!\@-@/http://www.blogger.com/profile/09097949808192078943noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9169081015027339730.post-13406244157123443702011-05-17T07:21:00.000+09:002011-05-17T07:21:38.657+09:00How to be alone<object height="314" width="500"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/k7X7sZzSXYs?fs=1&hl=en_US"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/k7X7sZzSXYs?fs=1&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="500" height="314" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true"></embed></object><br />
<br />
"Perhaps in the interest of loving oneself, <br />
perhaps all those sappy slogans from preschool <br />
over to high school's groaning <br />
were tokens for holding the lonely at bay. <br />
'Cos if you're happy in your head <br />
then solitude is blessed and alone is okay."<br />
<br />
"If your heart is bleeding make the best of it <br />
There is heat in freezing, be a testament."\@-@/http://www.blogger.com/profile/09097949808192078943noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9169081015027339730.post-60941552215493071682011-05-11T02:23:00.002+09:002011-05-11T02:25:36.165+09:00When everything felt like a good old bluesy guitar riffIf we're sitting in a cafe somewhere in Marseille and smoking French cigars, and you ask me what I did in Tokyo ten years ago, I'd tell you about these past weeks, when I did nothing but read and write and read, and how come the city was so unshaken with how tangible my thoughts were, and how I could almost touch all of them at one instance on my way home at 6 in the morning.\@-@/http://www.blogger.com/profile/09097949808192078943noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9169081015027339730.post-49822695816375435802011-04-18T00:34:00.000+09:002011-04-18T00:34:41.796+09:00Beautiful secretMy most beautiful secrets come to life whenever I walk and think about my future. It involves a shy smile, a soft sigh of optimism, and a tweak of eyebrows that tells a great amount of anticipation. That's my secret: I feel happy when I think of my future, of things I have yet to figure out doing.<br />
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Your secret by Jean-Sebastien Monzani\@-@/http://www.blogger.com/profile/09097949808192078943noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9169081015027339730.post-83634548223514243462011-04-13T12:42:00.000+09:002011-04-13T12:42:37.101+09:00Another sunny day<img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5307/5615376582_8dd614c553.jpg" width="500" height="375" alt=""><br />
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<br />
I nearly thought I would literally skip the sakura watching this year since I am mostly asleep in the day and working full time with my papers at night. But then this happened, and what a day.<br />
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I hope you all have a nice day. Tokyo and Japan in general is still reeling over the catastrophe of last month. So continue wishing everyone here good faith.<br />
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Playing is Belle and Sebastian's Another sunny day.\@-@/http://www.blogger.com/profile/09097949808192078943noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9169081015027339730.post-77097083010766768182011-03-19T01:06:00.002+09:002011-03-19T01:11:28.776+09:00We all need saving, sometimesOn that fateful Friday morning, I was south of Tokyo, in the seaside resort town of Atami, sitting by the balcony of the hotel we were renting, watching, almost crying at how simple yet arresting it was to be swallowed by a beautiful sunrise. It was one of those soft mornings, so soft in fact that I feel I'm dense and drowning to its sublimities whenever I remember.<br />
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I took a shot, three times, thinking I won't find the use of that memory someday but only in little photographs for this blog. Little did I know, with the turn of events later that afternoon, that that sunrise is the only memory I want to remain and remember out of the many unforgettable things that happened that Friday.<br />
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<img alt="" height="375" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5137/5537543664_3a2395f691.jpg" width="500" /><br />
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My heart goes out to Nihon. I can't help but cry a bit inside every time I see the raging waters surging quaint little towns up north. It kills me like a thousand heart break every time. It wrenches me but at the same time strengthens my love for this country even more, and in the hope that it would stand back stronger after all of this.<br />
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If you are following this blog, take a minute of silence, whisper a short prayer to your God, to whatever is bigger than you, and ask for relief over this country we all love. What Japan needs now is our comfort.<br />
<br />
In a more practical level, if you cannot find anyway to give your donations, I encourage you to buy something made in Japan one of these days, even something as little as Japanese toys or t-shirts or manga magazine which are being sold in your country. It may not serve any direct purpose or may sound silly amids all of this, but in the long run, may take a little burden to the adverse effects of this disaster.<br />
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Thank you for your well wishes. I felt all of them across our oceans.<br />
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PS. We all need saving by Jon Mclaughlin was playing on my earphones while I took the photos of that sunrise. I know, it was heartbreakingly coincidental.\@-@/http://www.blogger.com/profile/09097949808192078943noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9169081015027339730.post-88544188017151630722011-03-03T20:20:00.001+09:002011-03-03T20:22:52.990+09:00Better togetherJack Johnson is making me feel swell, ya'll. Have a nice weekend.<br />
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Better Together, from the album In Between Dreams.<br />
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By the way, thank you Ms. HangSee Lee of Nylon Korea for a small feature of my blog. Got your package on a rainy morning. Nice! 감사합니다. <br />
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<img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5058/5493641939_095b32b8ef.jpg" width="500" height="375" alt="" />\@-@/http://www.blogger.com/profile/09097949808192078943noreply@blogger.com13