a festival atmosphere

i'd made it as far as the elevator door tonight when i realized how little i wanted to be in the sweatbox that is my apartment. likewise, i didn't want to wander Ekimae street alone, but still i turned around and wandered off into the night.

something about these summer nights -- the air so thick with sea-salty, subtropical moisture it feels like you can grab a sticky handful of it, the faint smell of sulfur exhaled from the mountains, the sound of firecrackers in the distance-- brings me back to my first days in Beppu when i'd wander the streets and sit by the beach by myself. watching the moon glitter off the surface of Beppuwan as the oil slick churned underneath.

tonight, Ekimae-dori was awash with girls in colorful yukata, the breakdancers in front of Tokiwa, crappy reggae covers emanating from the sports bar that i despise (but every foreigner here seems to love), mothers and children attempting to catch fish from plastic kiddie pools, guys screaming solicitations to buy whatever edible item they're selling, and charcoal grill smoke rising up from the stalls on both sides of the street. i walked on the sidewalk instead of going between; thought it would make me less visible. ghostlike.

the isolation. the alienation. feeling invisible and yet painfully aware that everyone must be wondering, "who is this weirdo and why doesn't she have any friends?"feeling like there's no one i can really talk to in any language. knowing that, while i'm acquainted with a ridiculous number of people, i actually have very few friends.

then i'd remember that it was exactly the same way back home. "home." whatever that means.

has my situation really changed all that much in 2 years? i mean, suppose the few people i'm really tight with suddenly ran into visa troubles or started receiving Yakuza death threats or something had to leave the country--i'd be in exactly the same place as before.

there are those here who said they'd take care of me if i were to stay a long time.... but i'm reluctant to count on that. nothing is permanent here.

or maybe i'm just bored in my sweatbox apartment on a Friday night and ruminating.