![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
spiderpigIt always starts like this: I wake up, with my own body clock ringing, get dressed at my own pace and head out for the station. From here on, the route differs depending on my mood. Sometimes I end up in a livehouse, other times I'm miles away on a rickety old train heading to a beach.
It's a lot different here, to be able to just jump on a train, or go on a walk in any direction. Back home it used to be only two directions I could go from: left or right. Here it's up down center right left diagonals criss-cross, so many ways I could change to, move from and into. To hell with the cliched feelings of 'belonging' and revelation that other people feel. It's simply not enough to say, "this is the place" or "I feel this". Fancy words don't cut it. You need to feel it in every bone, every pore, every muscle and sinew as you lift your leg to put it back down on the ground, moving forward ever constantly. Do I feel like this yet? Probably, I am nearly there. The sense of inertia is slowly coming off and while I know I will never speed forth into some dream-laced, figment of a future, I am plodding on at my own pace.
In many ways, I feel like Enoshima. Always patronized by tourists, predictably kitschy and quirky, but surprisingly exhilarating. I struggle to separate myself from the mainland, but even with the choppy strait between, I always have people crossing that damned bridge. Take cover, move out slow, there are always the cliffs to hide out in. The constant influx of tourists, tourists, tourists tires me out. They don't understand that I want to be left alone. Stop chattering, stop talking, stop touching me. I didn't invite you in: so stay out. But I'm like Enoshima. So they come, and I let them, sometimes (only sometimes), because of a freak of nature, they can't come in.
It is liberating, to be able to have fun and enjoy myself without anyone else. To know that I do not need anyone to make me feel something so intense -- it's the quiet sort of knowing as you lightly crack an egg and watch as the crack forms, breaks, and then white slowly dribbles out and then sizzles, as it hits the pan. You fumble as the egg white gets on your hand, but darn, it smells good. The egg's good just by itself. It doesn't need any other additives.
November's going to be rockin' for me. I was born in this month, and I will thrive in it. The air has gotten colder, and I find going out in sweats never enough now, but the biting cold speaks to me. I've got three live concerts waiting for me, and a few more on the way, when the tickets start to go on sale. Am I feeling down that I'm going to all of them alone? I have to be honest, yes. That is a miniscule part of me. Like the tiny drop of MSG cooks still put into their dishes and insist that it's "MSG-Free". But it is that subtle flavour that makes my day (and days) all the more better. People say "Oh you look like you had a wonderful time, can I join you next time?" to me, but they don't realize that I have such a good time because I am by myself. It's a strong statement to make, hence the strong coding (lulz html pun) but repeatedly I've been proven wrong that "the more the merrier".
So while things are bitter sometimes, fuck it!
It's a lot different here, to be able to just jump on a train, or go on a walk in any direction. Back home it used to be only two directions I could go from: left or right. Here it's up down center right left diagonals criss-cross, so many ways I could change to, move from and into. To hell with the cliched feelings of 'belonging' and revelation that other people feel. It's simply not enough to say, "this is the place" or "I feel this". Fancy words don't cut it. You need to feel it in every bone, every pore, every muscle and sinew as you lift your leg to put it back down on the ground, moving forward ever constantly. Do I feel like this yet? Probably, I am nearly there. The sense of inertia is slowly coming off and while I know I will never speed forth into some dream-laced, figment of a future, I am plodding on at my own pace.
In many ways, I feel like Enoshima. Always patronized by tourists, predictably kitschy and quirky, but surprisingly exhilarating. I struggle to separate myself from the mainland, but even with the choppy strait between, I always have people crossing that damned bridge. Take cover, move out slow, there are always the cliffs to hide out in. The constant influx of tourists, tourists, tourists tires me out. They don't understand that I want to be left alone. Stop chattering, stop talking, stop touching me. I didn't invite you in: so stay out. But I'm like Enoshima. So they come, and I let them, sometimes (only sometimes), because of a freak of nature, they can't come in.
It is liberating, to be able to have fun and enjoy myself without anyone else. To know that I do not need anyone to make me feel something so intense -- it's the quiet sort of knowing as you lightly crack an egg and watch as the crack forms, breaks, and then white slowly dribbles out and then sizzles, as it hits the pan. You fumble as the egg white gets on your hand, but darn, it smells good. The egg's good just by itself. It doesn't need any other additives.
November's going to be rockin' for me. I was born in this month, and I will thrive in it. The air has gotten colder, and I find going out in sweats never enough now, but the biting cold speaks to me. I've got three live concerts waiting for me, and a few more on the way, when the tickets start to go on sale. Am I feeling down that I'm going to all of them alone? I have to be honest, yes. That is a miniscule part of me. Like the tiny drop of MSG cooks still put into their dishes and insist that it's "MSG-Free". But it is that subtle flavour that makes my day (and days) all the more better. People say "Oh you look like you had a wonderful time, can I join you next time?" to me, but they don't realize that I have such a good time because I am by myself. It's a strong statement to make, hence the strong coding (lulz html pun) but repeatedly I've been proven wrong that "the more the merrier".
So while things are bitter sometimes, fuck it!
