We talked briefly about what we did back home. We talked about who we were. Neither of that mattered here. After this bus ride we’d never see each other again, but that was the beauty of this trip. Nothing really mattered.
When the neon lights and awkwardly compact buildings started coming into view I began to feel a sense of achievement. I felt a sense of pride. I felt a sense fear. I felt a sense of love. It felt like home. This was Tokyo, Japan.
This post made my heart cramp up a bit. God, I miss it so much! Tokyo really is home. Any other city fades in comparison. Nowhere on earth can I find freedom and peace of mind like I do in Tokyo. And I die a little every day I’m away. The only thing saving me is that 8 months from now I’ll be free to live there as long as I please.
