High on Tokyo
Friday, September 29th, 2006It’s not me, This city never intrigued me, and although I’m trying, it’s not looking as if she’s trying.
Miro is actually high on Tokyo, who’s Miro, he’s just a bulgarian guy in my program, he lives here, just like the rest of us, except he breathes Tokyo, Japanese, sometimes he makes me angry, because it gives him that confident-aura that I miss so much.
An Aura I used to feel when I walk down the alleys of old Damascus, I spent countless hours just strolling down these alleys, with Alaa, Maad, Zeid, Bashar, Zena, Alone… I’d go to Damascus just to walk there, breathe the stones, and watch the confidence people feel when the cross these narrow streets.
I used to feel this when I’d walk down the sleepy streets of Latakia, late at night, with no one there, except us, 3 very lost -or so we thought- guys, either laughing my heart out, or crying it out.
I’ve done a lot of walking.
What was I talking about, yes, Miro, Miro is just one of these people here, there’s just so many, and I just got to know them this month, every and each one of them amazes me in the way they handle their problems, their pains, the way they manage to smile at a silly joke, the way they taught me [and probably most of them don't know this] how to do it myself, how to be a part of a conversation again… I’m not the guy with the most problems here, I have a lot of shit, I know, but the fact that a whole part of this shit is only the result of shit-chemicals reactions inside, absolutly self-produced shit.
Regardless, again, so Tokyo, yeah, it’s just another city, I’m coming in terms with her, I’m finding my little arrangement, I’m studying, I stopped trying to like it, and just started doing it because it’s there, and for another reason, I was just thinking in the morning when I was doing my Kanji quiz, that I have to beat this fucking language, I have to beat this fucking place, to restore my long lost ego. [I miss the days when u used to call me arrogant ya zeid], and 3 hours ago, I was reading Haruki Murakami’s Norwegian Wood, and it reads… “It’s because I hated the place so much. I wasn’t going to let it beat me. If I’d let it get to me once I’d be finished. I was scared I’d just keep slipping down and down…”, weird eh? I thought so too.
My room is still messy, it’s still dirty, I still have papers all over the place, but I guess, that’s how “My Room” has always been…
Ziad is still playing in the background, sometimes Mounir too, others Fairouz, A-Ha…
5 years ago, A-ha’s song “Lifelines” raised for me the most existintialist question at that time, “Can once in a lifetime happen twice…?”… It still does.
I feel like I’m rewriting myself for everyone who’s still there back home.. lol
Anyways, I still wanna travel this east, I wanna see how “Tokyo” is different than the east… I might start with Thailand, I can’t stay here, and I can’t go back to Syria for an 11 days holiday… I wanna spend my 2 weeks christmas holiday there. so much to ur pleasure moryarti!! ;)
May, too much confusion, and too much thinking, in opposed to too much feeling, or vice versa I really don’t know, too much realism, phones hanging-up, and I still miss her eyes ya maad, they still crack me down when I look at them on my wall.
I have 3′assa, whenever I hear that song from Ziad and Salma’s Mondose.
Maad, I can see ur “smile”, my smile, I know, I try to remember what I used to tell u, how we used to work ur everything in the morning, in just one drunken night in that room!! I actually tried to have a monolgue, to put u infront of me, and have u tell me what I used to tell u, but I forgot…
what is it about her, what is it about your eyes, that everytime I think I can get a hold of them they burn out, the burn me in.
“I chose you”, They can be so scary.
Chapters of Himingway’s “Farewell to Arms” have been coming back to me so much lately, I donno why, I haven’t thought about that novel for so many years, after it had been my favorite book for as long as I can remember.
Last week, I bought a red smirnoff, and just like the last time i did that back in the days, I drank a third of it, and waited for all these problems inside of my head to dissolve to small numberss and shapes, to see my hands grasping them and putting them in place, but… Long story short, Vodka is just another kind of alcohol now, to me.
Small things still make me extravagantly happy, I bought a new 250 GB external drive, and for 2 days I was flying, I was copying stuff, I felt like I can put god in there. ofcourse, now that I have only 70GB free on it, it doesn’t feel like life is pink and blue anymore.
I was showing Farhad, zeid’s pix today… I came to this picture again, probably one of the best photos anyone has ever taken for me… it’s still amazinf how he got it, and I’m still in love with my hair back then… the color and the texture, it was so “Latakia’s Warm Winter”!!!
What else, I hate the rain here, simply because I cant enjoy it. That was one fucked up sentence.. lol
okay, I’m getting too nostalgic, and I got 3 open MSN Messenger windows, just watch this video… it cracks me up, and then it unflods me to these days of extreme relaxation…
cheers everyone,
from the land of the rising sun, me, yazan, and like sou always says… signing out,
bubye!
