The last of the suicidal leaves have hurled themselves from the trees and have thrown themselves into the path of my car as I drove home listening, ironically to songs from summer on my car player. How quickly the seasons seem to pass by me now. I remember as a child, the endless carefree summers in which we bloomed. Embraced we were by the warm summer sun. We immersed ourselves in the playful laughter that only children seem to understand.
Recently though I have felt chained by circumstances and the situations in which I have found myself.
There is an emptiness within and all that I consider about it is the question that does the emptiness grow or does the surrounding fullness recede? I cannot even say why it's there. It seems to have always been with me.
I have been away on assignment for the last week and I have begun to feel as a transient phantom drifting in and out of a life that I sometimes do not recognize. Thoughts of home seemed unreal as if they belonged to another's far away dream, one that I had only borrowed. As I lay in the darkness and on my bed in the hotel room it was as if I had watched my life being played out on some movie theater screen. Would I return to some other reality after the final credits had rolled by?
For now I convince myself that the increased medications are having an affect on an idle mind and so desperately I occupy myself with my work and even then in the quiet moments, the specter of uncertainty offers me other speculations of as yet, future uncertainties for my contemplation.
When I returned home I found that Hitomi had changed the furniture around. I am uncertain of how I feel about that. On one hand I feel that she should have asked me at least my opinion because we both live there and on the other hand I feel that perhaps I should encourage her because she also made it tidy.
I may have slightly hinted once or twice previously at how untidy she can be and so I was impressed by her great and attentive efforts.
Living in the 'now' we see things as they just are but without a passing note to the Confessions of Saint Augustine, I gather all my information today and retrospectively decide what happened and when - in order to bring about my view today's situation. Watching the constant flow of inconstant alliances and friendships amongst my closest friends seems to confirm the idea that while the importance of now is without any doubt, as today slips into yesterday, the value of present moments somehow becomes less.
What consequences?
I knew this was going to happen in a vague and open ended way. Post-diction aside I find myself needing time even when I know that tomorrow does not belong to us.
I have taken a few days away from work and I have taken a solitary room away from home.
I want to be away from everything just for a short while.
I sat at my desk at home and rubbed my tired eyes. I have not slept well recently and I ascribe that to frequent changes in my timings of wakefulness and sleep. I stay up late for a variety of reasons and not all of them are personal and consequently I am waking late the next morning and then find that I can't really sleep well the next night and I have an early start the following day. My bodily rhythm is all out of 'synch!'
I leaned back in my chair and looked at scattered sketches and a half hearted attempt at an article. I say half hearted because it appeared gray and drab to my dark, tired eyes and it lacked my usual charisma. The words read as if dull and monotone. Perhaps it's the way I read it rather than how I wrote it. I could be reading it with a listless detachment devoid of my usual emotive inflictions.
I rubbed my temples an attempt to soothe away the pressure.
Headaches are scary for me. They rob me of reason and calm and the ability to function well. The fear that I speak of is the nagging doubt inside of whether it is something more than just a mere headache. Of course it can't be anything more I assure myself, my last scan showed all was well and so this pain my dear Momo is exactly what it appears to be, a nagging headache!
I watched some astronomy program on TV as I sat with my hot cocoa and tried to relax and ease myself out of my work related stress. I'm home now and I should be able to 'switch off' and forget my working persona with all of her duties. I still have plenty of time before the deadlines.
There was a time when I thought of myself as a deadline queen. When I was between situations I'd get a call for a required article for some magazine or paper of the 'blow in the wind', bits and pieces kind. A seemingly pointless piece like a space filler and the reasoning behind it would only be understandable to the editor who saw the big picture and was aware of the continuity and coherency of the overall magazine flow. Where exactly the piece would go as the pages were turned through their own logical continuity. I of course didn't care about any of that, it was just rice and meat to me but I personally wanted to be associated with dependability and reliability and so I tried hard, real hard. I'd take these assignments from anywhere and everywhere that other writers would seemingly dismiss or 'not have the time for' and I'd have editors thinking of me when they were looking for someone who'd show willing. Word would slowly go around that I'd take these small unassuming commissions and I'd make good. I'd get other calls from numerous other sources for other work which kept my bank balance looking healthy and I can tell you that this was important to me when I was between contracts and struggling freelance. The editor of such and such might have called me around ten in the evening and he wanted so many words on a certain subject and could I have it done by six the following morning? I'd usually get straight to it, a little introductory research and mentally outline my approach and then I'd hammer the keys so to speak and I'd usually get it done a little quicker than the proposed deadline and send it off with an hour or two to spare in case of the return call and the re-write request. Those were the times of apparent freedom from the constraints of contractual obligation balanced by an almost independent license with ambiguous uncertainty.
Back to the present and the stiffness in my neck that I feel as I try to massage it with one hand and the heaviness that I feel behind my eyes and still I slow down in drinking my cocoa to make it last a while longer as I watch this journey through the stars on television.
I thought the sun was pretty big until I saw this TV show that certainly placed it in perspective.
You can get a similar idea here... (Amazing)!
I took some pills and slowly and very delicately brushed my teeth so as not to aggravate the pounding that I felt growing in my skull and I turned off the TV midway through the proposed fate of an ever expanding universe. I somehow wished that my head could expand to accommodate the galloping horses, the drumming carnival and the small artillery battle.
I got into bed and lay still in the darkness.
Darkness turned to semi darkness as by eyes became accustomed to the night.
I was alone in the semi darkness, Miss Adventure being on tour again. I just lay looking at the space she'd usually occupy. I turned. I turned several times in the hope of finding a single position that would offer me comfort. The clock labored slowly to display ten and I finally closed my eyes in a determined effort to sleep.
I don't know how long I lay there but sleep wouldn't come and I refused to open my eyes to check the clock which was I'm sure, racing for the morning.
I could hear the traffic out on the Aoyama dori and the trains entering and leaving the station. So much for the soundproof windows! I could hear people talking outside as they left the restaurant and I heard a cell phone ringing for attention out there far in the distance and perhaps a gong sounded out there too although I can't imagine why I would hear that as the throbbing and the pulsing at my temples increased its relentless pressure.
Perhaps certain sensitivity can arise under certain conditions.
I must have dozed at some point, perhaps a few seconds later or several mind numbing hours after the ringing of that strange gong out there in the unknowable distance out there and as consciousness began to return it seemed that I hovered in the nether regions between wakefulness and sleep and I became aware of a conversation taking place close by. I didn't recognize the voices and I wasn't sure of the language either but it seemed I could catch names and places and inflictions and then there was a dreadful feeling of nausea and I felt my skin prickling and one of the voices suddenly said quite clearly "Shhh, she's listening!"
The ghosts were silent. A close silence enveloped me and all was quiet except for the distant traffic and still more people out there in the night.
The rolling waves of pain hit me again and I struggled to move my head because it seemed infinitely easier than rolling my eyes. Eleven twenty four and perhaps nothing had changed.
I went and took more pills and I took more than the recommended dose and felt for all the world that there were probably dead people feeling better than I was. That is a shocking statement to make without a doubt but polite table talk, social etiquette and decorum quickly disappear from behind such a wall of painful and physical onslaught.
Is there no respite?
Twelve thirty seven and I had dispensed with my pillows. They'd been cast aside and lay who knows where in the darkness in favor of a rolled a hand towel that supported my neck.
I seem to remember seeing the clock show three thirty before a ninja assassin sneaked up on me and hit me across the back of the neck. I remember a moment of intense pressure and then mercifully the world went black and it was without time or feeling.
Bells, bells, bells hurting my ears as my hand slapped the top of my alarm clock. The bell called again moment later and I reached for the telephone.
I only heard dial tone and the bell went again followed by a knock.
It was the door. I slowly got out of bed and put my robe about me each movement a personal evaluation of any seemingly left over damage from the migraine of the previous night.
The bell...
"I'm coming." I called out although not too loudly.
"You look terrible are you alright?" Rina asked as I opened the door.
"I had a migraine last night" I explained.
"I'm sorry I disturbed you but this parcel arrived for you and it's marked urgent."
She brought the parcel in since I made no move to take it from her.
"I'm sorry I really need to sleep more." I said apologetically and remaining by the open door.
"I understand," she said, putting the parcel on top of the shoe rack, "I've had huge headaches before. Can I get you anything?"
"No thank you" I said shaking my head and suddenly thinking that was a bad idea.
She left almost on tiptoe. The clock said eight forty-five and the parcel said nothing at all. I left them both and crawled back into bed. I still felt extremely tired but at least the pains had subsided and sleep returned almost at once. The ninja stayed away to allow the sandman to do his job.
I awoke around eleven forty and yawned my way to the kitchen for coffee.
It was dark outside. Heavy gray skies as if we were beneath the shadow of Gulliver's 'Laputa'
As I sat and drank my coffee the sky unburdened herself and the rain fell in torrents!
If only I could unburden myself so easily I mused.
I did feel remarkably better after the coffee and some sleep that I must have had during my fourteen hours in the bedroom. A little soft music as I lay in the bath restored the feeling of life back into to my small frame.
Once more I can face the pile of work on my desk.
Texts, phone messages, voice-mails, emails and even a parcel marked urgent can all wait until I've had at least two more cups of coffee.
The scene opens in a darkened bedroom and I lay there in the night with perhaps only one eye trying to sleep but the other one was suddenly wide open staring out into the darkness desperately trying to detect and perceive what unexpected noise had awakened me. The heat of the previous day bleeds away and as reality around us contracts, it does so with its accompanying orchestral creaks, groans and bumps that a mind about to fall into sleep will instantly wake to with senses honed as it feels out another unknown phantom bumping in the night. I have tried to sleep and I cannot despite the fatigue of the day still aching inside my muscles and the liberal servings of hot chocolate before I hid myself under my duvet. Eventually as the bumping ghosts either faded away with heat loss and no more contractions or the distance of my slipping consciousness pulled me too far away from the noise, I fell asleep for a brief moment. A dream of distant drums! I am almost instantly awakened by Ayaka Hirahara, singing ironically 'Nocturn' on the radio. I wonder where my ‘night’ went. Admittedly it is a sweet love song but I could so easily fall asleep in the arms of my love to this and I can't sleep now no matter how appealing the prospect seems to be. With a great effort I make my decision and I get out of bed now and it is dark and far too quiet. Ssshhh! The city that never sleeps is dozing quietly in the corner.
The city is almost lethargic and we view it monochromatically to compliment the quiet and desolate mood. The windows in the buildings around me are as lifeless black and sightless eyes that remain unaware of the emptiness surrounding them. My taxi arrives and I am whisked through more of the cold endless night, past orange and white street lights that rush toward us. They bravely hold back the envelope of night that would swallow us whole should we off the headlights. Where is the moon? Who would we embrace if we could not see in such darkness? Hold high your lights to stay back the shadows. How very different the world is outside your door when seen without assistance from a Google search!
The day slowly passes through monotone meetings and long hours staring at my monitor and the drumming of my fingers across this old bruised keyboard. My work slowly increasing in byte size which reminds me to eat and I do so to the music of my colleagues' stories but my mind sleeps past glazed but open eyes and the gentle consumption of pasta. A digest of the food order as I compose myself which is a wish I would gladly pass on to my work as I make ready to create order from chaos once more. And later as I get ready to go home I notice an apologetic note from the sun saying that he was so sorry that he missed me. It is dark once more but this time the city is awake and it pulsates to the beat of Shibuya with a Tsuyoshi Noguchi flavor and the rush home is slowed drastically by the vibrant but dense masses. The pre-dawn silence becomes the cascading waterfall of daylight and evolves into the thick viscous and tenacious goo of the shadow inked but well oiled city machine of the night. The darkness of the early morning and the darkness of the living night hide away my sun and the short days in between remain unnoticed whilst I am cocooned within fluorescent corridors and the hum of the machinations of this modern world. The clockwork yields to the digital lifestyle but I'm not too tired to play with obscure references yet. 'An a log for the fire' if you please!
Here is something for you to try. How many songs can you think of that has 'the night' as part of or referenced by the title? On the way home last night I was amazed at how many of my favorite songs used that term as if the awe of the mystery of the darkness was something magical. Unilluminatingtimes indeed!
So ends this acherontic entry. I hope to see you all soon beyond the Cimmerian landscapes.
Love, true love is to ask nothing in return You are my destined soul mate Your love, adoring eyes We can see the light because we know the darkness Everything has meaning, even campanula in the wind
Each one of us has pain and sorrow Sheds a secret tear But drops of your tears will fall to the earth and Welcome new life into the world again and again with love
Love, true love is to ask nothing in return Fated love that is meant to last My love, your gentle gaze A drop of your soul within me that I adore Everything has an end, but we'll be united
My love, your gentle gaze A drop of your soul within me that I adore Everything has an end, but we'll be united
Nocturn
Additional: It is Saturday and I go home at lunch time! I smile at the distant sun in the sky and the city now seems vastly different from how it wore its monochromes at 4am. 'Let there be light!' she said.
... And there was light. And Jazz saw that it was good, so damn good! Be gone creatures of the night.
The wonderful people who brought you body language now offer you sleeping positions and what it says about you.
Foetus Those who curl up in the foetus position are described as tough on the outside but sensitive at heart. They may be shy when they first meet somebody, but soon relax. This is the most common sleeping position. More than twice as many women as men tend to adopt this position.
Log Lying on your side with both arms down by your side. These sleepers are easy going, social people who like being part of the in-crowd, and who are trusting of strangers. However, they may be gullible.
Yearner People who sleep on their side with both arms out in front are said to have an open nature, but can be suspicious, cynical. They are slow to make up their minds, but once they have taken a decision, they are unlikely ever to change it.
Soldier Lying on your back with both arms pinned to your sides. People who sleep in this position are generally quiet and reserved. They don't like a fuss, but set themselves and others high standards.
Free-fall Lying on your front with your hands around the pillow, and your head turned to one side. Often gregarious and brash people, but can be nervy and thin-skinned underneath, and don't like criticism, or extreme situations.
Starfish Lying on your back with both arms up around the pillow. These sleepers make good friends because they are always ready to listen to others, and offer help when needed. They generally don't like to be the centre of attention.
I used to love curling up like the 'foetus' position when I was smaller but recently I'm long tall Sally and in a straight line, like a needle or in this description, a log. I think the log describes me fairly well, but I am careful of strangers and I don't think I am gullible normally, but sometimes I can be. I think there is a saying to mean a good night's sleep that says "Slept like a log!" Hitomi likes to sleep on her tummy so I guess she's 'free-fall' and no parachute. She says someone told her that sleeping on your tummy lowers your blood pressure. I wish someone had told me of this years ago when I was living in stress city. It says free-fall sleepers are gregarious and brash? That sounds like most people in the performing arts.
Sometimes she will talk in her sleep too. Although the last and rare time I heard her it's was just a line from her 'Kobo Ake's, Kangaroo Notebook' script and then she'll be talking to a phantom from her dream.
I like to have seven hours sleep if I can and if I cannot, then I might nap during the day in a corner somewhere. I find it easy to just close my eyes and switch off. Hitomi says five or six hours are enough for her, but if she doesn't get it, she'll be Miss Grumpy all day unless I can convince her to come for a short nap with me. Both of us can remember our dreams well and we might talk about them over breakfast. She likes to think she can interpret dreams and what she says sounds sensible most of the time but I don't honestly think that there is a standard key to the symbols we have in dreams. If I dreamed of food on Sunday, it might have been because I helped out in the kitchens Sunday evening. If I dream of food last night it might be because I was hungry.
Our bedroom is also a place where we might just go for the quiet of an evening and we'll both read or watch a DVD or we might just cuddle and chat about something. There are some topics that I think a couple can talk about much easier if they are close together and the lighting is subdued. It makes the ambience more receptive and lessens the inhibitions.
Okay! I'm a "log" and I'm sensitive about some things!!!
So! What position do you find yourself sleeping in?
Hitomi got us tickets to see "Me and my Girl" at the Takarazuka theater this Saturday. Despite the smiles and the intriguing title, it's not about 'us' or girls like us, its a musical about a group of people who travel to meet a long lost heir to a title and he is not quite what we would expect. Next Monday I am in the hospital for a minor little thing and I don't expect to be online for a week, so don't worry if you don't see me. If any noteworthy news arrives like they find my sanity, then I'm sure my lil' sister, April will inform the world of such a spectacular event!
ME AND MY GIRL
Interesting:In the last 48 hours I have had 21 visitors on 17 different IP's (16 from Germany, 2 from Italy, 1 from Austria, 1 from Chile and 1 from UK ) who all found my Tourist_gurl Blog through Google. And they still keep coming. There must be some renewed interest in him. I will also say "Hi" to my regular visitor from the Philippines on 'bti' who visits my sister April, me and then Ron' blogs: Say 'Hi' back sometime if you will.