I need to get out of the country more often. Whenever I have a window seat arriving in another country, I peer down at the lives going on as my plane lands.

I don't think of it as much when I see planes landing, but when I'm on the plane, I think of the people on the ground, whose lives have been going on, in a time zone when I'd normally be aslumbered, oblivious of my little life going on somewhere else. I'm arriving, I'm the outsider. They are the usual lives going on, and my arriving has absolutely no impact on them.

Madoka makes me feel like I should be doing more with my life, that I shouldn't just be this existential entity floating around going from reason to reason why not to kill myself. Especially when I ran out of them a long time ago and I'm obviously not going to do it.

And yes, she knows this about me. And it's true, I don't have to leave, I may never leave and live out my natural life, but I can't be caught dead ever living my life like that.

Why I've been blessed with someone like Madoka in my life, I don't know. She would say the same about me, but she has no idea. She has no clue.

Chunk of coal vs. refined diamond.

We may be made of the same stuff, but I'm still the chunk of coal, and she the diamond. I'm not putting myself down, it's just the way it is, and her diamond will always make me shine.

I may not do anything with my life, I may die next year, but having her in my life makes all the difference in the world, and I will make the most of what I have, I will continue appreciating every breath of air, the colors, the smells, the sounds, the feel of everything on this planet, and I won't leave unless I'm sure about it.

Feel free to remind me I said this when it's not 3:30 in the morning.

Madoka, I thought, was a person I would take a bullet for. But 10 more seconds of thought made me realize I wouldn't. I thought of how she would feel if I took a bullet for her, and I realized I couldn't do that to her.

There are plenty of people special enough to take a bullet for. How special does a person have to be to not take a bullet for? After I related all this to her, she said, "I would also not take a bullet for you". I appreciated that, but probably not for the same reason she said it. I don't think this is accurately conveying what an exceptional human being she is.

"Oh, tell me
Tell me you'll dance with me
Turn me around tonight
Up thru spiral staircase to the higher ground"
"Promenade" - U2

You can welcome me back anytime now. I need to take a nap. Get a haircut. E-mail Madoka and let her know Sadie picked me up and I got home just fine.


November 28, 2002; 12:46 P.M. - On the way to the airport.

I asked Madoka why she thought we might have been twins in a past life. She responded because we think so much alike. Oh yea, that, how could I forget that? I think I noticed it before she did.

We went to college together, but we really didn't hang out until after I graduated and was spending time in Osaka, and she was home in Kobe for the Summer.

There were times when we would be hanging out with other people, and I would say something and no one would know what I meant. When they asked what I meant, Madoka would chime in and explain exactly what I meant, and it never ceased to amaze me how precisely she explained what I meant.

I don't know how to describe it – we speak the same language, we're of the same mind? I know I don't know anyone like Madoka. I don't know if she can do the same thing with other people, she might just be really good at empathizing and understanding what other people intend to communicate.

As for me, that Summer marked Madoka as someone exceptionally special. Our subsequent meetings through the years only confirmed that she is exceptional and increased the love and adoration I have for her that I just can't describe or pinpoint.

November 27, 2002; 3:00 P.M. - The sweetness that is Madoka.


November 27, 2002; 2:27 P.M. - Madoka profile.


November 27, 2002; 2:22 P.M. - Out on a walk with Madoka.

kicking myself for not writing it down:
I was having a dream this morning that I've all but forgotten. I was in a town that looked surprisingly like Noe Valley up near 30th and Church, and Stevie Wonder and Bonnie Raitt were there for some town celebration. Stevie was at a loss, wondering what he was doing there. He then spun off two lines about it, and the rhyme was so funny I laughed. Then I opened my eyes. Madoka, who's futon was next to mine, opened her eyes and said, "What's so funny?"

November 22, 2002 - 10:26 P.M. - Narita Airport, Tokyo, Japan. Waiting for the train to meet up with Madoka. I'm a little confused about the time stamps, but I think this is right.

another self-absorbed post:
What I said a few postings ago about the "act", I guess it's not really an act. In everyday interactions with people, yes, I am always actively hiding something, but don't we all to some extent.

It's more of the degree of cover up my unconscious performs depending on how well or how long someone knows me.

More or less, all the people I know now, I've met in the past three years. They don't know me through the changes that really get you to know a person's character.

I feel one dimensional to most of the people I know now, and if I were to show more than that one dimension, they would start asking questions I don't want to answer (this is to be completely distinguished from people who do actually "get" me, but don't know and therefore ask, that I don't mind at all).

I do have a pretty checkered psychological profile, and so many people just don't "get" how I can go to law school and not become an attorney.

I "act" the same way to Madoka as I do to everyone else. I just feel like she knows much further into however she sees me, and therefore it is not an act. This is all misperception I'm sure.

ROWR!
Extra strong coffee this morning.

I went to check out the Leonid meteor shower last night. It was a wash. No storm, not really a shower. More like a drizzle.

But it was such a gorgeous night, I love being up and out at three in the morning. There was no wind, it was mild, the moon was bright (which certainly did not help the viewing), and it was quiet down by Crystal Springs Reservoir. My skin tingled it was so lovely. Shhh.

Jupiter was high in the sky above the radiant and I was able to see the Galilean moons easily through binos.

I need to find a way to be up all night. Conceivably I could flip my hours like I did in high school, and go to sleep immediately after work. Or I could quit. I should just keep talking about quitting until everyone is fed up and just tells me to shut up and friggin' quit already!! Yup, that might do it.

Or I could stop taking the emotional route about it and, true to my parents, make it a matter of numbers. Once I've saved double the amount of a year's rent, I give notice. I know I need to get out of this, I know I'm not gonna do it on my own accord, so an outside trigger seems just dandy.

Incoherent:
I'm packing ahead of time. I want to be prepared and leave feeling confident I haven't forgotten anything big. I'll be in Japan for just four full days, which I suppose is better than the three full days of the failed previously planned trip.

And in the throes of packing, I'm anxious about the anti-social and isolation I've wrapped myself in and grown accustomed to. I get antsy over four hours with just one person. Four days?

But it's Madoka, I don't need to be on, I don't need to act. Problem is, it's all an act. I don't know what the act is, but it's an act, trust me. If there's anyone I don't have to act for, it's Madoka, but if it's not an act, it's therapy, and I'm not visiting Madoka for therapy. Ergo anxiety.

. . . no, no, I can do this. We knew each other before this mythic "act" was perfected and implemented, and even since then I think I've always just been myself to her. Besides, friendship is therapeutic. I'm not worried.

I'm looking forward to jet-lag and my biorhythms going ape-shit.


November 19, 2002; 10:56 P.M. - In my kitchen.

Yay! I got my passport.
Boo! I forgot to wear a belt.
Yay! My pants keep falling down.
Boo! I screwed up my blog archives even more. Bah!

I was trying to explain to Sadie why my birthday means absolutely nothing to me. I'm practical about it. The earth is in the same relative position around the sun, but what else? My life started that day, but with my outlook on my life, its commencement is no reason to feel celebratory. I get to that anniversary and ask what am I supposed to feel, and . . . nothing.

I would rather celebrate markers that have some tangible meaning. For example, how about the day I started walking? I don't know the date I started walking, do you? Every year I would be celebrating a day that means something personal to me. I accomplished something that day. My birthday is my mother or my parents' accomplishment. That's the day I should have been grown up to celebrate and thank them.

Of course I grew up hating their guts, so I wonder what effect that would have had on the dynamic. Or vice versa.

In my family, maybe it would have been my uncle, our only other relative in New Jersey, who would come over for birthday parties to explain to us we are having a party for our parents because this is the day they had us. If that uncle wasn't there, maybe it would be father and we'd be celebrating for our mother.

As for our own markers, maybe the parents could choose what event to celebrate depending on what they want of you. If they want you to be an artist or someone who expresses or uses words, they celebrate the day you spoke your first word. If they want you to be a doer, then walking. If they want you to be a government worker, the day you were potty trained. The possibilities are endless.

November 15, 2002; 5:55 P.M. - Home commute. 16th Street and I-280, China Basin, San Francisco.

Directly after reading the You Are A Suspect article in the NY Times, I read about Jiang Zemin stepping down as Communist Party leader in China.

It seems that the press can't publish an article on China without mentioning "human rights", and no doubt, their record is dismal. But the "human rights" that the West generally condemns China for are civil and political rights.

With the direction that the Bush administration and the Republican Congress is taking with things like the Homeland Security Act, we will see government actions, and already have mind you, that are safely considered civil or political rights violations, read human rights violations.

Are they going to stand or respond to being accused of committing human rights violations? Of course not. They'll just stand behind duly passed laws by the "will of the people". Summary dismissal.

But if these violations are committed, regardless of how the laws are passed, it's basically the same as the Chinese government. They have their laws, and we have ours. I'm not comparing us with them (yet), but once our government starts justifying human rights violations with our laws, we certainly lose the moral high ground.


November 14, 2002; 5:00 P.M. - My cube. On the very rare occasion of still being at work this late.

anti-pep talk:
After three years of working here, the building is now going to accommodate bikes. I don't have much to say about that, this building is behind the times, what can you do? But the first thing I do is tell the building I'm interested. Mind you, if I'm really gonna quit at the end of the year, I have to give notice early next week.

These mental games I play with myself are sickening. So I'm not gonna quit now because I can lock my bike in the building? That's basically what the logic distills down to. Teeny tiny psychological pebble in the road. The reason why this is disturbing is that this is how I treat my life.

In April 1997, I was going day to day identifying why I would live to the next, and it just got really stupid, like well, Throwing Muses is playing, and I have to return this overdue library book and pay the fine, or I have to pick up photos from the darkroom. Mind you, none of these, except maybe seeing Throwing Muses, was good enough a reason.

So I'm not gonna quit? I'll stay until I get laid off, probably early next year as the economy tanks? I won't get the dignity of quitting, but I'll get unemployment.

I will also live a long life, and in my 80's I will be alone and destitute because of my inability to get into and/or maintain relationships, and because I didn't have a 401K and didn't invest wisely, and I won't have health insurance because I never cared to look into it, and I won't have teeth because I never go to a dentist, and I'll be in a wheelchair because of the numerous knee and back ailments that went untreated, and I'll be near blind because of the all the time I spent staring into the sights of the sun, not realizing that Bruce Springsteen was being figurative!!.


November 14, 2002; 8:39 A.M. - Bay Bridge while riding to work.

Blame this shameless post on Meghan and her post on music boxes and what tune would we like to have in a music box. Who doesn't love a music box?

As a result, I've been listening to this song all afternoon (the website is a collection of, like, every version of the song in existence), until I finally couldn't control myself and got up and did a little shuffling dance around my cube, hoping nobody walked by. The song just gets me and I just have to laugh at myself for falling for it. Little bit happy, little bit sad. Lotta bit nostalgic.

Ue o muite arukou (I look up when I walk)
Namida ga kobore nai yoo ni (So the tears won't fall)
Omoidasu haru no hi (Remembering those happy spring days)
Hitoribotchi no yoru (But tonight I'm all alone)

Ue o muite arukoo (I look up when I walk)
Nijinda hoshi o kazoete (Counting the stars with tearful eyes)
Omoidasu natsu no hi (Remembering those happy summer days)
Hitoribotchi no yoru (But tonight I'm all alone)

Shiawase wa kumo no ue ni (Happiness lies beyond the clouds)
Shiawase wa sora no ue ni (Happiness lies above the sky)

Ue o muite arukoo (I look up when I walk)
Namida ga kobore nai yoo ni (So the tears won't fall)
Nakinagara aruku (Though my heart is filled with sorrow)
Hitoribotchi no yoru (For tonight I'm all alone)

Omoidasu aki no hi (Remembering those happy autumn days)
Hitoribotchi no yoru (But tonight I'm all alone)

Kanashimi wa hoshi no kage ni (Sadness hides in the shadow of the stars)
Kanashimi wa tsuki no kage ni (Sadness lurks in the shadow of the moon)

Ue o muite arukoo (I look up when I walk)
Namida ga kobore nai yoo ni (So the tears won't fall)
Nakinagara aruku (Though my heart is filled with sorrow)
Hitoribotchi no yoru (For tonight I'm all alone)

That's not my translation, I can't understand the lyrics. I can match up most of the words, but that's about the extent of my Japanese language ability :(

I'm serious, I must have listened to the song more than 10 times.

I am SOOOO boring 

Maybe I'm romanticizing it, but when you black out, aren't you supposed to wake up somewhere seedy, like a gutter, covered in vomit and filth? 

I black out and I wake up under my covers, cozy and warm, with the morning sky peeking through the blinds. Didn't get drunk and thrown out of a bar, no fights, no howling at the moon. No falling into a patch of poison oak. Lord god knows that I've been there. 

I guess last night wasn't too bad, I saw clues as to what happened and remembered some things vaguely. I did dishes! Party animal. Someone invite me to your party, I'll get drunk and do your dishes! 

Guitar was lying on the kitchen table so I must have been doing that. I do remember using the wrong rinse before brushing my teeth – no clue to that, I just remembered it, maybe because I've never done that before. And I burned Kateri a Deadweight CD, but that was earlier. And look! no drunken blogging. Yay me. That makes me wanna dance.

"We are not human beings on a spiritual journey. We are spiritual beings on a human journey."

I missed the cite for that quote from the documentary "Lost Bird of Wounded Knee" on PBS. It is American Indian Heritage Month. I, in theory, believe that all U.S. treaties with Native American nations, unless abrogated, are valid.

The injustices perpetrated against native nations, the broken treaties, the lies, the deception, the legal distortions, obliteration of cultures and societies, and outright military assaults, are what this country is founded upon.

In theory, if I owned land, and the U.S. government told me that my land, under whatever treaty from a hundred years ago, belonged to a native nation and I would have to leave (with federal compensation, because that's how it works), in the name of justice, I would.

The U.S. did it to them in spite of treaties. The U.S. should be able to do it to us to respect those treaties. It will never happen considering what our country and government are really about. It's just something to think about.

And the media has to stop portraying native societies and cultures as being dead, gone, and past. They're not.

I need to have this scowl bronzed:

November 9, 2002; 1:24 P.M. - That's my apartment building in the background. The maroon building. This is Hampshire Street @ 19th Street in the Mission.

It's the old story of not looking ahead, not appreciating something until it's gone. They say there's nothing more depressing than being at home doing laundry on a Friday night. They're wrong. There is something worse. Being at home looking for your laundry room key on a Friday night. Believe me. It's worse. This isn't the first time, either.

I'm gonna burn a Versus mix for Liz at Liz's request, then I'm gonna turn my apartment upside down looking for that key, and then tomorrow I'm gonna make a copy of that key. Who said I was going to Japan on Thursday? I wouldn't have been able to do my laundry on Wednesday anyway!

I'm nervous about getting a new passport in time. The government website is vague in telling whether by going in person to the passport agency on the 15th, I will have a renewed passport by the time I leave on the 21st. But I have to relax, trust, and believe that it'll turn out alright.

I've had this whelming feeling of relief (not enough to be overwhelming) that I didn't go, like my original planned trip was all wrong. Just an unfounded intuitive dread of what would have happened if I had gone.

The path not taken. But as a result, the fabric of my current reality feels weird, fragile, transparent. Like because of this, the "wall" between illusory physical reality and actual Reality has thinned. And if I look hard enough I can see through it.

It's probably just my mind. One of these days physical reality will assert itself as Reality, and everything about me will fall apart and melt away and be torn down and I'll get committed. Nice. I can't wait.

Ever have the feeling that you want to die? I have. I remember the feeling, but I rarely get it anymore, mostly because I'm kinda like that all the time. It's grown through the years so that it's a pretty regular thing. I understand that it's difficult relating to someone who doesn't want to live. I even understand being mad at someone who doesn't want to live. But I have no problem with living. Living I can do. My beef is with existing.

"You need a noogie to get thru the day 

You need a noogie to make your troubles go away 

You never seem so heavenly 

When you're at home watching TV 

And if you feel like killing yourself I need to be there" 

"Noogie" (Versus)

New paradigm for personal interaction: arrogance reduction

Interact with people like my dog was run over this morning.

"Standing in the middle of nowhere
Wondering how to begin
Lost between tomorrow and yesterday
Between now and then
So now I'm back where I started
Here we go 'round again
Day after day I get up and I say,
Come on, do it again"
-"Do It Again" (The Kinks)

Curse of Josephine?:

More like curse of me. Inopportune time to try to visit Madoka, what else was going against it? Aside from calling it quits with Josephine four years ago on November 11th, November 7th, the day I was supposed to leave, is Shiho's birthday. But Shiho has nothing to do with Madoka.

Josephine, on the other hand . . . what I know about Josephine, and what I know about Madoka, made me think that there was some connection between the three of us in a past life. And it wasn't a good connection. There was no reason for Josephine to react so violently about the thought of Madoka, but she did to my surprise.

Madoka was my best remaining friend from college, but she was just a friend, there was no threat to our relationship. Still, Josephine latched on to it and blew it up and never let it go.

And ironically, not to put too fine a point on it, the very last time I saw Josephine was months after we broke up for good. I was bringing Madoka to the airport to go back to Japan. She had been in the Bay Area visiting a sick relative.

That day happened to be the same day a group of Thais from our Master's program were returning to Thailand, and Josephine was there to send them off. Boy, was that an uncomfortable moment. It's been four years since Josephine.

In the throes of our relationship, I came close to giving up my friendship with Madoka. In retrospect, it's Madoka hands down. Not in terms of love, because they are different types of love, and I don't know how many types Madoka covers, but as for impact on my life and being in my life . . . the best I can do to describe it is Guinan and Picard.