Locked.
In the moment between past and future - not present, but beyond it. Or even over it. But not anywhere else, either.
Bound.
By limitations. Of time. And circumstance. (And everything seems familiar again.) Ask not. Want not. Just stay.
Tired.
And unmoving. There are choices, yes, but nowhere to go. But this. This.
Stuck.
As life happened. Happens. Stuck. With a hot-wired brain working on overtime.
Wanting.
To deal. To crave but give in. To be silent and pray. To listen. To remain.
Confused.
But will remain. The same.
Friday, November 25, 2011
Monday, November 14, 2011
Kumamoto and Aso-san: coming together
Back in June, while I was trying to plan my life, I got the wonderful idea to climb Mt. Aso. Also known as Aso-san to the Japanese people, it is the largest volcano in Japan and is one of the biggest calderas (of about 120km in circumference) in the whole world. Like most of my plans, though, I didn't really expect it to come to fruition, due to one (almost always lame) reason or another.
The book I never even opened (nor had to open) |
My first month in Japan was spent trying to settle in, figuring out how to juggle my studies and social life, and eating at wonderful places around town. Aso-san, as the destination of choice, was replaced by Dazaifu, which was a much closer and cheaper alternative. And Dazaifu, in turn, was shelved due to one lame reason after another.
On the early evening of 12 November 2011, however, I got a harebrained idea of going to Kumamoto, a city in Kumamoto prefecture in Kyushu Island, about 2 hours away by bus from Fukuoka. I told a handful of new friends about it, but I only got two "possible" companions. One was not sure and she'd have to get back to me on it and the other one actually thought it was a good idea. This friend, Ryan (not his real name), informed me at 7pm that his friend, Marshall (also not his real name) has also been wanting to go to Kumamoto AND THEN climb Mt. Aso. At first I was hesitant to go. Kumamoto is a "safe" plan since I can just visit temples, gardens, and museums. But Mt. Aso -- yes, my "June plan" -- teased the chicken in me since I haven't actually done hardcore climbing before (climbing a hill in Can-ayan, Bukidnon did not count since its difficulty level was like 0.5 in a scale of 1-10, 10 being the most difficult) and I did not know what to expect.
When I pressed him for details on Marshall's plans, however, Ryan could not give me anything since he was already on his way out to go to a bar with a bunch of our other classmates. He just informed me that Marshall wanted to meet at the city proper (yeah, my place is kinda in the other side of the river) at 9am the next day. Bozo. So I was left to ponder on the Kumamoto-Aso plans alone.
It was at around 10pm that I decided to go with Marshall's plans and extend my trip to Aso-san. But, I couldn't very well Marshall about it 'cause I didn't have his contact details. Smart. So I partially packed my bag - "partially", since I did not want to fully disappoint myself in case I chicken out the next day or fail to wake up or Marshall leaves without me and I'd be so confused that I'd end up in another city or wherever. Just for the heck of it, I messaged Ryan about my plan to join Marshall so he can relay the information accordingly.
No answer.
I woke up at 7:30 and dressed up in the laziest fashion ever. Then I checked my messages. No answer from Ryan. Ooh boy. So he was not able to relay my message to Marshall then. I had to look up the directions to Kumamoto online via the link another friend sent me before. At least not all would be lost, I thought to myself. I can just walk around Kumamoto.
I rushed down at 8am to catch the bus to Tenjin, praying all the while that I'd bump into Marshall somewhere there. When I got to the bus stop however, Ryan was there - decked in pink, as usual - looking very sick and ... drunk? Apparently he got back home 2 hours (or less) before, from a night of partying, slept (crashed was more like it), woke up at 7:50, and decided to follow Marshall and me around. This was getting more hilarous than I had expected it to be. So, hating to prick his giddy-drunk bubble, I let him yak on and on in the bus about how marvelous life is and how exciting the trip is gonna be since the three of us have not known each other for long and we don't know each other's travel behavior.
I was mighty relieved, nonetheless, that someone was actually coming along with me. Even if we don't end up seeing Marshall (Ryan ALSO did not have his contact details. Pretty smart, eh?), at least there'd be two of us looking like idiots lost in a prefecture we've never been in before.
We grabbed a quick breakfast in Tenjin, with Ryan still quite the happy drunk, and went to the post office where buses come and go and ... ta-da! Marshall was there, reading, and obviously waiting for us to pop out of thin air. And so... the adventure (mad dashes, and all) begun.
Strange band, but a band nonetheless |
*To be continued*
Location:
Fukuoka, Fukuoka Prefecture, Japan
Saturday, November 5, 2011
Attack
Strings. White. Definiteness. Life.
Autumn. Trees. Leaves. Falling slowly. Reddish-brown against the pavement.
Changes. Clouds. Cold. Night. Solitude. Raindrops. Silence. Deafening silence. Lights. Darkness. Lights. Blindness. Ignorance. Uncertainty. Irrelevance. Timelessness. Truth.
Indefiniteness. Impermanence. Sunsets. Seasons. Snowflakes. Frost and mistletoes. Wistfulness. Could've-beens. Should've beens. Words unsaid. Pills untaken. Quick hello's. Quicker goodbyes. A single tear. One last hurt.
A white flag. An easy surrender.
A broken thread.
Autumn. Trees. Leaves. Falling slowly. Reddish-brown against the pavement.
Changes. Clouds. Cold. Night. Solitude. Raindrops. Silence. Deafening silence. Lights. Darkness. Lights. Blindness. Ignorance. Uncertainty. Irrelevance. Timelessness. Truth.
Indefiniteness. Impermanence. Sunsets. Seasons. Snowflakes. Frost and mistletoes. Wistfulness. Could've-beens. Should've beens. Words unsaid. Pills untaken. Quick hello's. Quicker goodbyes. A single tear. One last hurt.
A white flag. An easy surrender.
A broken thread.
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