This post was recovered from an old blog that I had while studying abroad in Japan. I’ve only updated misspellings or dead links, but left any cringe worthy things or immature thoughts. I’ve decided to leave them as a snapshot of who I was and to see how far I’ve come. Any photos have been freshly edited and so are not the same as what was originally posted. Over the years I had several blogs, most lost to time, and I wanted to recover some lost memories and reflect on my life.

I rode the train in Tokyo for the first time today. While I rode the train by myself, I had help with buying my ticket. Tomo-san walked with me to the nearby station and showed me how to buy a ticket and told me where to go. It was actually simpler than I imagined it would be. I got on the train to Shibuya, which was crowded, but not “packed”. I arrived at Shibuya, left the station with little problem and had a nice walk to Yoyogi park. The cherry blossoms were starting to open, but far from prime viewing. The clouds began to roll in, so I thought it best to make a hasty return to the station.

Rain didn’t end up falling, but I was tired none the less so I hopped on the return train. Sitting down, I looked around the train car, taking in the appearance of all the passengers. I was the only foreigner. My attention turned to shoes, as my eyes slowly ran up and down the train car. Yet again I stood out with my white shoes, everyone else either wore black or dark brown shoes, no doubt professional workers. One exception was the girl across from me, with her bright red high heels. Every other detail about her fit in with the rest of the passengers, except her shoes. She was younger than most of the other women, maybe 19 or 20, and she had simple eyeliner on. Maybe I wouldn’t have took much notice of her, but the red shoes kept drawing my attention. Then I noticed she was obviously uncomfortable for some reason. It could have been a simple headache or maybe she had a long day and was tired. She looked very disgruntled, massaging her forehead just between her eyebrows and above her nose. I’ve done this several times before when I’ve gotten a headache so I figured she was doing the same. I wondered what she was thinking as she went back and forth between her keitai (cellphone) and her forehead. Texting a friend, or maybe a boyfriend, then lowering her head and pressing her eyes. Why does everyone seem so sad?

I looked out the train window, gazing upon the sprawling concrete suburbs of Tokyo. A dreariness seemed to fall over the entire scene. Only for a moment in time did this last, before I had anytime to feel any deep sadness we arrived at my station. The girl with red high heels and I exited the train and parted ways, unlikely to ever see one another again. I felt a happiness inside of me just before we parted, a happiness I wanted to share. I knew the next time I was around such a sad soul I would smile, try to give off a positive aura, and hope that they would see the better sides to life.