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| is this what the future holds for me? |
It is almost two o'clock in the morning, having returned home from an ultimate, post-work drink at the 290 Yen restaurant next to the language studio where I have been exchanging the most surreal stories to date. There in that dark den hides the scheduled tacitness of the nine to fivers ( or in Japan, eight to niners) where one finds the smoke-filled cavities of Chinese waiters and MSG. Regardless of the ensuing 40 minute walk home, the indifference-inducing tiredness that I do feel is not rocking me to sleep. Alas, the hard futon that is my bed is not inviting and Radiohead is a more appealing lull towards sobriety.
And so I am here, sat awkwardly straining my neck on the mini-table of my 'living-room' with an illuminating friend that has remained in such good faith these last couple of months. I wish I could write it a letter, or an email rather, to thank it for it's companionship: 'Dear computer, thank you.' I utter these words without a desire for pity (condolences at this point are not necessary, though I thank you for your concern) but rather as an honest expression of its significance in my life as the mystical portal to friends, family and torrent downloads.
I am not ready to make conclusions about the time I have spent here as it is not so much as completely over. I do have one thing to utter for now, about the idea of perspective and hindsight through distance.
"You never know what you've got until it's gone."
A cliche remains only a cliche because of the ridiculously true nature of its application in our lives, and through repetition, loses impact but not validity. In Aboriginal culture, (beware, I claim only to know the superficial implications of its traditions) a rite of passage involves a walkabout where you seek your own maturity through independence, in the true sense of the word. Traditionally, the individual is released in nature alone, urged to find a place within the hierarchy of the surroundings and to negotiate keeping afloat within it. Having had all this time apart from the people who have formed the crux of my social life, and the environment that I have battled and adored has given me a lot of time, mostly, to contemplate about what place I hold in this world and in this life.
Why am I here and most specifically, why did I choose to be here, in Tokyo? Despite my own reluctance to write that sentence as it does express the inevitable cliche that is our generation of self-doubt and inner-struggle (in a world that has given us everything we want, might I add), I feel that it needs to be included and despite all my good judgement, I need to ask the question. In most of the categorized 24 hours that we define as a day, I think about this time in my life as pivotal, like a departure point that will catapult me toward the infinitely dense possibilities that could be my life. All through the power of my own capitalized Choice, or so I am told to believe. What the hell am I suppose to do, where in the world do I need to be so that I feel secure, and powerful and successful and real? Not just physically but metaphysically, morally, socially? God damn the crisis of the indecisive. That's how I'm coining it.
I was pointed to an article by my vary splendiferous friend who felt I should be privy to the thoughts of other writers on the coupled issue of physiological development and personal purpose in the lives of 20 somethings http://www.nytimes.com/2010/08/22/magazine/22Adulthood-t.html
Here here, find the thoughts of articulations of those more researched and edified then me. The overriding conclusion I guess, is that I am not alone in my uncertainty. How stupendously wonderful.
