Today is beautiful.

A Story of サビス。

A couple of days ago I was enjoying my day off before having to trek to Kanoya city, wherein I would spend 5 days in a hotel, and away from my dearest Japanese friend, Hana (はな)(花).
Us both knowing this, he invited me to the bar he works at, named Rastas, as he was bartending alone that night and decided to use his power to give me free drinks and no table-charge (note: table-charge = shitty).
Taking him up on his fine offer, I ventured his way around 11pm or so, and wound up having a jolly time, and meeting some lovely young philosophical gentlemen who decided that they had marijuana to spare.
Knowing that the next morning I was to wake up early and catch one bus after another in order to get to Kanoya, I partook just the perfect amount. The music became lovelier, my Japanese became smoother, and the conversations became heavier and lighter at the same time. It was truly a wonderful night.
As morning rolled around, I couldn't help but be aware in a half-conscious state of sleep that there was very loud, ringing, repetitive music seemingly blaring in my apartment. All I could think about was that my neighbours will probably not be happy with such loud music in the morning, but that I would decide to enjoy it.
About an hour later I woke up and realized the "music" which was playing was actually my obtrusively annoying alarm clock, which I had, by then, subconsciously shut off, and that I had approximately 10 minutes to catch a bus located at a station approximately 10 minutes away from my house; the last bus which would get me to work on time.
I'm still not sure how I did it, but somehow Time and Space bent to my will, and I arrived with my bag and suitcase at the station with a minute to spare.
As I got on the bus with 5% lung capacity, the chaos of the last 10 minutes hit me, and having begun to master the Japanese Style of sleeping while sitting up straight, I passed out.
An hour later I awoke at Terumizu Ko (てる水こ) to transfer my bus.
Seeing the second bus I had to catch waiting, and in the midst of getting out my money for the fare, it wasn't until I was sitting on the (now moving) second bus that I realized I was one bag short. Not sure what to do, but knowing that at the moment I could do nothing, I waited to arrive at my destination.
When finally I arrived at my hotel in Kanoya, I went about explaining my embarrassing story to the hotel staff, and asked if they could possibly contact the Bus Centre and see if anything could be done. The friendly woman at the reception desk called the bus centre, and they told her they would call back when they knew more.
A half-hour later they called the hotel, explained that the bag had been located, and that they would put it on the next bus to Kanoya and have it waiting for me at the Bus Centre. To my incredible relief of the situation, I apologized and thanked the woman many times, and after my work finished, I headed to the Centre.
When I arrived into the small, cramped room that is the Kanoya Bus Centre, I couldn't help but realize this incredibly annoying ringing sound that just would not turn off.
It took about 5 minutes for someone to finally come from the back to the "front desk" (aka; the only desk), and within those 5 minutes I came very close to shooting myself on account of the constant ringing sound. It sounded like someone trying to chew glass, and I couldn't understand how these people were working with the constant noise.
I explained that I was getting my bag that I had forgotten, and she disappeared for a few seconds and returned with exactly it.
As it got closer, my heart started to beat faster and faster, until I could no longer deny that the incessant noise was nothing other than my absurdly loud...fucking...alarm clock.
My alarm clock which had been going off for who-knows-how-long, and no-one had even opened my bag to flip a switch.

This entire succession of events, friends, is what the Japanese call サビス (see: title).
In Romanji the word looks like "Sabisu" (pronounced: sah-bee-su), and is taken from the English word "Service", but trust me, "sabisu" is so completely different from the North American idea of "service" that you really have to experience it to believe it.

I believe that you will find it in no other country.


more will make it's way.

How widespread is Love?
What is the difference between physical intimacy & a quick glance wherein two pairs of eyes meet? When the feeling is the same, does the action become relative? Moreover, is it easier to come to that feeling when the physical senses become intertwined? That would show need for caution, but it does not give definition to the point where Love mixes into one's reality.
If Love is quite this common, how does one not find themself in constant betrayal of promises they have made to another?
But does it work like this?
Could a person I have touched a previous night be simply a matter of stimulation to the senses? But if that is so, is not Love also a state of being in which you are within your best sensation?
Love can be pinpointed even within a full array of seperate emotions.
I can pinpoint it, but I cannot define it, or even place it's state of existence with any surety. This is not to say that it doesn't exist, rather that I cannot discover how to measure it.
If it is as happen-stance as a look of the eyes, how can any sort of accuracy be attained?
We are creatures of pattern that depend on change to exist in a linear state, but even that beautiful absurdity is outdone by the freeness of Love.
It is like a leaf that cannot be destroyed; it mixes freedom & grace within immortality, and becomes the everlasting observer to those whom it's path crosses.
But to mix with something so forever present is to either be forever free, or forever in turmoil.
How does something so momentary draw our minds into ideas of the future, or the past, wherein It itself does not dwell? Is this purely our downfall?
But in regards to our state of existence, how is this downfall anything but unavoidable?
The absurdity in how we set our mind to the before or the after in the hopes of finding the Present.

This is clearly something I do not yet understand.


No Technology For The Gaijin.

Sorry about the constant lack of updates.
The internet has taken too long to achieve, and I am constantly getting led in a constant circle by these damn internet companies.
I am going to cancel my application, by a wireless hook-up, and hack it.

It shouldn't take me more than a week.

Updates soon.