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Tokyo
A reflection of my trip to the city
My trip to Tokyo: An amalgamation. It has been a cornucopia of experiences, a fantastic array of both rush and rest. I cannot properly convey how different I feel here compared to the town I am from. The emotions I possess rarely line up with how I feel upon entering the city.
Acquired biases never fail to imagine a city cold, bereft of human emotion. The typical skepticism when coming from a small town. And yet, once that first step is taken into the city lines, I find my impressions to be deluded.
There is an abundance of sun-drenched streets, a holy light that paints on the collection of man-made textures. I find small desperate gardens, the tenders of which are those who push fiercely against the dullness of the concrete.
It is a joy to continuously find oneself wrong, and in front stands a city full of humor and hope. Of creativity and camaraderie.
I sit in reflection of my first week here. There has been an outpouring of myself, and at times there is a fear that the pool of which I pull these waters from might soon be barren, and my mind exhausted. Despite this, the cup continuously pours without fatigue. I am like the child, who begs, after the 10th time, to ride on the rollercoaster.
Reflection. A quietness comes over the mind. I ponder the days to come and shudder slightly. An uncertainty clouds the room, and I come to a strange place in my heart, where two impossible things co-exist. A mysterious inner rumbling keeps me awake into the twilight hours.
This is ok. I have been raised with two worlds inside me, and have become accustomed to them. But now, I must take care of myself, and prepare for all the good that can happen.
