What is the connection between artistic expression and the joy of living? How can one best live a literary life? This book is a collection of small word-projects. Each examines a book, a moment, a story that helps to deepen the author's literary adv...
At any given time of day, Shinjuku is a teaming brew of people in generic black suits, more machine than human, rushing from one place to the next. Amongst these mechanical people, there are a few like me, human flesh and blood, trying to make their way in the world.
I think to myself that this is what New York must feel like. It's a rush to be part of something so big, to be part of a big stream of something that makes you feel anonymous and small.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I was in Shinjuku with two great people, an American kid and a Chinese girl, both in their twenties. I was feeling old... I had just turned thirty a few weeks ago. We had just gotten out of Japanese class when I got the call.
My mom was sick again. Things didn't look good, and there was a chance she wouldn't have much longer to live.
I didn't tell them that. I just told them that she was sick. "Let's go find her a get-well card," my Chinese classmate said. That's when I knew that I was in love...if I'm honest, I probably knew I was in love before that.
The American kid in his twenties also wanted to help. In another life, he would have been my best friend. The three of us went into this large shop to find gift cards.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I wanted to breakdown and cry right there and then because I thought that the world was both infinitely cruel and infinitely kind. Cruel to take away my mother and kind to offer me two friends, two great friends. Where would I be in this world without people like these who just magically appear when I need them? I would be nowhere. Lost in the abyss of Shinjuku.
Where are they now? I need them to traverse time and space and find me.
There were other things about that time in Tokyo that stick out. Things that are probably insignificant to this simple story, but don't feel insignificant. There was a South Korean boy who was leaving language school to go back to South Korea to join the army, military service being compulsory at his age. There were other people in the school who seemed impossibly young and cool beyond belief.
But my most striking memory is of me in that card shop, looking for the perfect card, and feeling like two people genuinely had my back. It's the greatest feeling in the world and makes me want to go back there, if only for a little bit. To be alone and sad in Shinjuku, blue, but in the company of two amazing people.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
