ご一緒に。- Together

振動し、共鳴する世界。


”競争”　から　”共奏”　へ。



It's all vibrations
 

From:

"競(compete)争(battle)"   -  Competition

To:

"共(together)奏(perform)"  - Collaboration *


Pronunciation:

競争 - Kyoh Soh

共奏 - Kyoh Soh

* 奏 - play or perform musical instruments. / create vibrations





y

KEEP IT NATURAL pt. 6

(Just returned to the Wrong Island, chosen as my rightful place of living. After 15 years, I still get confuse between L and R. I also get confused between riders L/R or lookers L/R.. )





Our home at Yosemite National Park was a canvas-covered tent-ish structure.

It was approximately 10' x 10', possibly much smaller, and it housed about 7 of us (me thinks).

It could have been that it was supposed to be for less people, but the close ones got together to hang out to overcome the overflowing flood of stinky teen spirits.
The uncontrollable teens snuck out of their own tents and migrated into the romance nests.





I spent a lot of time outside during the night alone,
sometimes with friends, when I was a teenager.
I enjoyed the serenity.


Where I lived back home in Japan was pretty crowded residential town, but after about mdnight, you seldom saw anyone out.


I usually told my parents that I'm going to McDonald's or Danny's (open 24hrs with Japanized menus)
to get some food, or hang with my friends.

They complained most of the time, but I did what I wanted to do.


The emptiness made me feel like I was the only resident of the town.


I was the phantom of the night.



It was always quiet. The air felt cleaner and more breathable without many cars being on the road near by. And especially in the summer time, the scent of grass, cooler night air gave me strange sense of comfort.

I have always been a night owl, I suppose.





The habit followed me to Yosemite.

Besides, along with the others, I was to excited to sleep.

We were scheduled to be on our separate journeys soon after the Yosemite trip.

The short-term, soon-to-be long distant, and most likely to never continue after the year is over relationships (most of us were from different parts of Japan) were having their own climaxes.


I don't want to raise your expectations, well I suppose I already have,

It wasn't like American Pie band camp of any sort. Kinda, maybe a little.


But if you want hot steamy stories,

I'm sure you can find it through Google.




I remember them making a big deal about the bears at the park.

Rangers and park employees constantly reminded us not to leave any open food in cars or tents.

If you do, you are welcoming bears into your party.

And I don't think BYOB or BYOF were an option.



When I woke up after the first night at the park, people were gathering at the main parking lot.

The bears broke into one of the parked cars by smashing the windows, since there were open packages of Doritos or whatever else left inside the car.

The bear must have been watching the commercials.

The crunch, the flavor, it's tempting.

I wouldn't go as far to actually break into someone's car for it though.




The last night there was definitely memorable.

Toshi, Lolita, Straight-up, Naive, Drama-shots (I think he was there), Champ,
and few others including my romance were in the tent. (Vague memory.. please excuse me if I left you out! )


We talked in the darkness with flashlights, since we were directed by park officials to turn off all the lights in the tent, perhaps not to attract the bears that wander around at night.


I recall talking about dreams, ideals, and whatever else with our naive teenage state of mind.

Too bad that the detail escaped my memory, but the intensity of emotions that I experienced have been unforgettable to this day.






The park rangers and officials constantly reminded us to conceal our food and never let open food packages out while we sleep.


After all the lights went off at the park, we made sure that all our food were put away.


Champ the teddy bear was a big eater.

He had a big bag full of snacks and goodies in his possession.


We told him to put them all away, including several candy bars that were left open and half eaten.

He fell asleep soon after his scheduled snacking with

graceful Snoring Philharmonic Orchestra behind him.
 



We felt safe, and went on our teenage life & love hotline business.




The bath room was in 2 minutes walking distance.

During the night, some of us payed unscheduled visits to the loo.



When it was my turn to go, I stepped outside.

The whole place was dark and serene,
 except the sounds of crickets and other rightful resident of the paradise.


The cool air reminded me of the nights I spent back home.




Around 2 am, just after we were totally relaxed, we heard someone approaching the tent.

All of us froze in an instant.

We loudly whispered to each other frantically.


"Sheeee!"

"Is it the bears??"

"Maybe the ranger patrolling."

"I think it's the bears!! I gotta go pee! What am I gonna do??"

"Hey be quiet!!"


"Tell Champ to stop snoring! Fudge! (non of us were Mormons btw)"

"He's out cold!"

"Wake him up!"

"Be quiet!!"


"No, don't wake him up!"

"Where is he anyways?"


He wasn't actually snoring anymore, and was covered in blankets,
 so we weren't even sure if he was there.




The strange and unidentifiable sound of foot steps slowly passed right near the tent.

The tent was concealed pretty well, and if you open the zipped door to peak, it would attract attention.

So we stayed still without a flinch.



Whether it was the bears or the rangers,
we didn't want them to know we are hanging out wide awake with some of us being in the wrong tent.

The foot steps seemed to fade away from where we were, so we let out a breath.


"Phew....."


Just when one of us were about to say something,

we heard a loud "Bang!!" right by the tent.

Now we really froze as if we had been stared by Medusa.



I thought maybe Champ went to the bathroom,
and he was looking for more food outside along with his fellow bears in his half-awake state.


I looked at the bed where he was sleeping, and saw his foot sticking out the bottom.

Ok, it's not him.

There must be a bear right by our tent, unless one of the rangers is throwing a fit or being a drunkard, which is very unlikely.


One of us caught a sight of open bag next to Champ's bed.

"!!! put that bag away!!"


We heard the drunken ranger, or a bear make another loud "Bang!!"
and there was a sound of the large trash can rolling on the ground, and it was literally 2 feet away from the tent.

There was nothing but a thin fabric which covered the tent between the unknown trash digger and us.


We thought we were next for sure, if it's the bear,
since it must had already smelled the open bag of goodies.


It was very nice of Champ trying to share his bag o' joy with his hungry friends.

The picture of the car with broken windows flashed in front of eyes.


I thought to myself,

"I guess I'm not gonna get to eat potatoes and hang with the cowboys."

The chicks and dudes were holding each other tight, which brought them even closer that night.



Then we heard the sound fading away in the distance...





This experience gave me the best adrenaline rush I have ever gotten just sitting still.

I had gotten such a kick out of it. 

That night turned me into more of a dare-devil.




Thanks to the cleverly placed trash can, I am still here, today, writing this.


I mean we had no idea what kind of bear they are or what they do.

All we knew was that they are strong enough to break car windows and they were hungry like the caterpillars. 



"Phew!"







to be continued....





love,


y


My brain had turned into liquid, probably beer,
after one week of recuperation in the woods.
Or maybe a bear ate it while I was sleeping...


Who knows.





ps.

Thank you for the great time at Yosemite.
This goes to all the wonderful people I spent the precious time there.
I will never forget (although details are fading a bit) you, and the days there.

Stay gold, and keep it naturale!







    

Healthy Food Cult

by Yukito Yoneyama / 米山ゆきと


I've been on vacation past few days.
This year I chose Mars as my destination.
It is beautiful here.
Desolate, quiet, no traffic jams, and the mystique in the atmosphere,
are what make the trip through the light years worth while.

There is only one thing.
I can't breathe.



I woke up almost suffocating from the dream,
since the blankets I was using were covered in cat hair.
I'm allergic to cats.


I've been hanging out in a little cabin in the woods on planet Earth.





My family and I eat healthy and well.

Well, the definition of "healthy and well" is a bit abstract today,
but from our perspective, we do.

We spend a lot of time researching what is in the food that we take in.

Knowing the ingredients is crucial, since it is hard to see
what you are actually eating these days,
due to the extraordinary input of marketing and promotion into the food business.




When I go to the supermarket to buy food,
I always wonder how we came about over packaging what we eat to this extreme.


For example, when you shop for cereals for kids to eat,
most of the packages have some kind of characters on them to attract buyer's attention.

From kids' point of view, they must be at first confused on the contents of cereal box.


When I was a kid, Kellogg's Corn Flakes were just starting to appear on store shelves in Japan.

One day, my mom came home with a box.

She bought the cereal for breakfast Plan B.


Although my parents strongly believed in the healthy quality of traditional cooking,
which was passed down the generations,
the modern lifestyle did not always give them enough time.



Before opening the box, in my honest and innocent mind,
I seriously thought there was "Tony the Tiger" inside the box.
I waited for him to jump out the box saying "ggggreaaat!", and sit down next to me.

Nothing happened.

I stuck my hand in the box and searched while my mom wasn't looking.
It was a huge disappointment on my end.



Even today, I still catch myself being fooled by exaggerated marketing strategies.


Now, I would like to ask, why?

Why is that they have to go so far beyond in decorating and manipulating
what the actual products, whatever they may be, represent?



I understand the principle of competition.

Businesses must survive by generating more profit than the competitors, or they won't be able to continue what they are doing.

However, in my opinion, these "contests" have gotten out of control.

It seems to me that the whole purpose of businesses and corporations
is to win against their competitors,
while satisfaction and happiness of consumers became the secondary factor for their operation.




Picture two buses driving next to each other on a road.

The whole purpose of the buses is to get the passengers/customers
to the destination in one piece, in safety.

Perhaps, getting there in a given timeframe would be the next important thing.


Since these two buses are from two competing companies,
they started to advertise.

"We are safe, and we are faster!" or something like that.

After the safety of the buses have been taken for granted,
customers start to choose which bus to use depending on
how fast they can get the passengers to their destinations.

Slowly but surely, these two buses start to race against one another on the road.



It becomes the talk of the town which bus is faster and such.

The owners of two companies start to pressure the drivers to drive as fast as they can, but safely...
(a common business paradox)


The buses do just exactly what they are allowed to do legally to be the "fastest bus".

After a while, they can no longer go any faster, so they begin to decorate the buses with nice seats, TVs, good looking attendants, and so on to attract more customers.


One of the companies is facing financial difficulties.

But the competitor just launched a new campaign hiring a celebrity to represent the bus ride.
Fearing the competitor taking their customers, they decided to do the same.


Meanwhile, the bus was due for a tune up, tires and engines and such.
However, since they had just spent a fortune in hiring a celebrity for their ads,
they could not afford to do sufficient maintenance.

You know where I am going with this.


Let's get back to the beginning.

The sole purpose of the buses is to transport passengers to given destinations in safety.

The "contest" had gotten out of control,
and the customers suffer the consequences, or being put at risk.






I also veered off the subject.


Back to the food story.
In my opinion, if the product, let's say, a bag of potato chips is so tasty and irresistible,
that is all I need to know.

I don't care what type of container they are in, or design of packaging,
or the character that represents the freaking potato chips.

Yes, they are Very Important Potatoes and they must be represented by an imaginary friend.


After all, I do not eat the packaging.
I eat the potato chips.



I won't be surprised if they started airing commercials saying,

"Now a brand new potato chips for the 21st century!!
  You can even eat the colorful packaging!! Yeah!!"

with a cool beat in the background, and things flying everywhere, or whatever.



Then we will start seeing kids munching on bags of potato chips,

"Hey dad, it's really crunchy, and this packaging is pretty yummy itself!"


I'm scared, are you?





My in-laws told me how they used to buy potato chips in waxed bags at a local mom and pop store.

The bags had no pictures, no preservatives, no anti-sunlight film inside the bags,
and whatever else.

They told me in nostalgia how they came fresh in homemade style.

I believe in the quality of fresh food.

The potato chips in waxed bags were freshly made.
People went to buy them when they were fresh, or reasonably fresh and edible.

They did not need to extend the shelf life of the potato chips,
because they were meant to be eaten in reasonable timeframe.
Several hours, perhaps.

That's why they were good and tasty.




Have your mother or father ever prepared dinner while taking the shelf life (table life)
of the dinner into consideration?

I think not, and hope not.



"Hey honey, let me put some chemicals in our kid's meatball pasta,
  so that her/his dinner can stay on the table for a long long time."


"Oh dear, that is a great idea!
  You know what, now you have mentioned it,
  what do you think of hiring a panda from a zoo to represent this
  once-in-a-lifetime meatball pasta I made tonight!
  So that the whole world will know what a wonderful pasta maker I am!"


"My, sweat heart, what would I do without you! let's get right to it!


......



I suppose the same can be said about everything that is out there for sale.



I have been noticing quite bit of change in the food world in this country.
When I first came over as an exchange student, the food was pretty awful.

No offense, but when I spent a year in Idaho,
I could count the variety of food options I had in one hand.
Pretty much.

The almighty McD's, Taco Bell, Domino's, potatoes (come in many forms, but still),
and steak (my favorite of all times, still to this day).

I could also count the supplemental food group, such as potato chips, snickers (two a day),
beef jerky (crucial to this day), Cup Noodles (they followed me from Japan),
and all other junk food you can possibly think of.

I gained 20 pounds in 2 months.



Prior to my arrival, my diet wasn't anything to write about.
Indeed, I was eating McD's, Cup Noodles, and other junk foods back in Japan also.


[McDonald's in Japan took a different and clever approach
in order for them to adjust to Japanese market.

They came up with Teriyaki Burger, which was my favorite,
Chicken Tatsuta (deep fried chicken) Burger.
And of course the famous Big Mac and Cheeseburger, which all of you are well accustomed to.]


Although I was eating all these junks while being out,
I ate really well at home while living with my parents.

Most of our family menus were based on traditional Japanese cooking and diet,
which consists of carefully designed combinations of grains, vegetables, meat, fish,
and so on, and most importantly, in moderate proportion.

There is a saying in Japan,

"80 % Stomach"

It means that you stop eating just a little before you feel full.
If you feel full, you ate too much.

I always stayed in good shape without really doing anything about it.




I remember my grand parents teaching me about food on
what to eat, when to eat them, and how to cook them in certain combinations.


They knew which plants and herbs come in use at any given situations.

As a kid, I always wondered how they acquired the in-depth understanding
of the complex dynamics of nutritions involved.

Their knowledge was beyond my understanding.




My grand parents were full-time farmers.

They had been doing it all their long lives,
and they were almost self-sufficient in terms of what they consumed for themselves.

    
I was amazed by their capability on living with the surrounding nature.

They got up when the roosters fulfilled their morning duty,
and they went to sleep shortly after the sun went down.

Everything was done and built by their own hands,
except for the house they lived in (due to the earthquake safety regulations),
and the few machines they had to adopt to use for farming,
since the local coop farming organization, which they were part of, required them to do so.



Their knowledge did not come from labs.
There weren't any scientists in white lab coats testing things and such behind their kitchen.


By the time I was in junior high school,
I had a pretty good understanding of the science and the modern world.

What my grandparents knew often superseded the scientific explanations.

It was based on physical and actual experiences, instead of theories.

It was truly fascinating every time they had shared what they knew with me.


I must say that it was wisdom talking.

The information was built upon generations and generations of trial and error.
I could sense even when I was an adolescent, my grand parents didn't figure it all out by themselves.


My grandpa used to tell me,

"All that we know was passed down the generations by our ancestors.
I had learned it from my grandfather, and he learned it from his grand father, and on and on."


I thought to my self in my kids mind,

"Grandfathers are great, I guess dads don't do anything. Except leave the house and come back."





Today, when my family and I try to share what we learned about food with others,
some of them look at us as if we have feet sticking out of our ears.

Well, that is usually the initial reaction.


When we proceed, they get a bit scared, or even offended.

They look at us as if we are the leaders of some cult group.


After the misunderstanding is cleared,
I would find out that in most of these cases,
they have never questioned nor examined what they eat.


I was astonished when I heard that there are kids out there in this country,
who have never seen fruit or vegetable in real life.
Only packaged food.

And naturally, they think what they eat come from the supermarkets.



"Food does not come from the supermarkets, they come from the Earth."


I'm gonna repeat myself in case someone out there has forgotten.


"Food does not come from the supermarkets, they come from the Earth."



I feel like this should be a mantra of some sort for us to chant and chant until everyone gets it.


"Food does not...

ok. enough.


Join the Healthy Food Cult!
And I will give you a new name!


No. no name change or naked thing here.

We just eat clean, good, and healthy food.

Are you scared? not I.





Keep it natural. just saying.





love,


y

KEEP IT NATURAL pt. 5

by Yukito Yoneyama / 米山ゆきと


The first thing that pops up in my mind about the night time at Yosemite National Park
is when we went to see the stars.

I don't recall which night of the trip it was, but I think it was the first night we arrived.
The program adviser, who was probably responsible for the romance fuses,
led us through darkened trail with flash lights in our hands.
I believe there were around 40 people, quite a large group.

I remember getting eaten alive by mosquitoes, not being able to comprehend why such annoying creatures are wandering around in this beautiful and peaceful paradise.

I kept hearing people slapping their faces and bodies, getting sidetracked into the darkness.
The mosquitoes were the uninvited guests, and we were the well-welcomed preys.

Despite the first few minutes of hustle,
we came out to a clearing after the few last push through the "Dark Forest of Vampires".
As I was putting away my garlic and a cross, someone shouted,

"Wow, look up!"

As I looked up to the night sky above, I was almost overwhelmed.

The numbers of stars, as well as the brightness of the light they were sending down to our seemingly lonely planet, was simply astonishing.

I had to admit, it did not feel like we were the only existence in this vast universe.

I thought about contacting SETI, to let them know that I finally found what they have been
looking for.


I mean they were bright! I seriously thought I can catch them with a net,
as they say in children's books, if the handle was long enough.
They really were falling on us.


The bright night sky looked two dimensional, just as Van Gogh painted in his "Starry Night",
perhaps on an euphoria after lighting a sugar cube on fire,
then dropping it into his glass of Absinthe.

Just a guess.

I am writing this as I drink my Adirondack Lager.


The trail we were on led onto a narrow wooden board walk, about 3 feet wide,
which stretched beyond the starry blurred horizon.

It was blended into the dark navy blue, as if ascending into the stars.
I could see the caravan of pilgrims in front of me, paying there visit to the
Temple of the Starry Night.


The wooden path lit by the stars seemed to float on the meadow below,
which was pitch black absorbing the light from above.
For a moment, I thought we were walking on a hanging bridge,
as I looked down into the abyss beneath me.



There we were, risking our very own lives,
just to witness this breath-taking display of extraterrestrial beauties.
I held my breath so that I can focus on each step that I took.


Then the adviser, who was leading us through this amazing journey, shouted.

"All right everyone! let's lay down on the boardwalk. I want to show you something!"


Like making us walk on this narrow bridge with nothing to hold on was not enough,
now she wants us to lay on it?

I thought to myself,

"This better be good, or I might feed her to the cute bears that hang around here."



Oh my my, oh hey hey,
was she the one with the great idea.

Now it was an outdoor IMAX theatre.
I clenched my fist tight and waited for these starts to fall right through me into the abyss below.


Well, the IMAX wasn't what she was talking about.







By the way, it is really strange how we refer what we see to movies or photographs.

When I spent a year in Hawai'i, I kept hearing tourists saying to each other,

"Wow, it really looks like the photographs! Amazing view!",

when they confronted the tropical dreamscape in front of their eyes
right next to where I was hanging out in peace.


The truth is that the scenery do not look like photographs.
It's the other way around.
The photographs look like the scenery. Really.


It is just one of many testaments to our perception being built on second-hand experiences,
which manifests in this kind of illusion.

Be hold! The power of one-way bombardment of information by the medias.

I consider it to be a bit insulting for someone else to determine the sort of information I take in.
There are sayings like,

"We are what we eat." (for the body) 

and

"We are what we read." (for the mind)

We used to carefully choose what we take in, whether it was food, or information.

For instance, when we go to a restaurant, a chef prepares the food using his skills
to mix up all the good ingredients and spices to create a memorable dish.
(Just as writers mix up all the words and idioms to prepare a memorable reading experience)

Then a waitress/waiter brings the savory dish to your table for you to enjoy. 
(as publishers and bookstores bring you a book with well designed cover.
Well, Amazon.com and Kindle in the 21st century)

Now, do they feed you the food into your mouth, or do they read you the book out loud,
as if you are a 2 year-old??

NO.

(Except audio books. It has its uses, since they free your hands.)

You get my point, I sincerely hope.



I believe that having a choice is the most important component, when living the American life.
And I do not think it is too far off to say that it is that very aspect,
which defines what this country is all about.
Or at least that's what I have learned for my foreign-self from the past 15 years of being here.

I must say that I owe it to the wonderful free-minded people of this country,
whose lives and time I was fortunate enough to come across and share with my own.





Back in the 50's, when TVs first started to appear in Japan,
one of the intellectuals wrote a book called,

"The Entire-Nation-Becoming-Retarded Theory", or something close to it.

It was about how we would all become stupified by the fundamental theory
behind the creation of TV and the media.


He must have been the reincarnation of Nostradamus.

Wait a minute, the 1999 thing was way off.
Ok, whatever.
He (not Nostradamus, the intellect) was pretty much on point, though, don't you think?


There are things in this world we can fight with our intelligence,
and things that just take over our primal instincts of some sort.
When the latter are at work, we are powerless, except for the trained few,
no matter how smart you may or may not be.


For example, many of us catch ourselves staring at commercials,
not realizing what we are watching.


The fundamental principle behind the TV machines is that just as moths and other insects are blindly attracted to lights, or plants naturally grow toward the sun,
even us homo sapience are attracted to flickering lights.

So, let's think about that.


It is also understood in the field of anthropology,
we are attracted to familiar faces.
This may be for a survival purpose.
Just imagine the development of human race before the recorded history.
Despite the fact we do not know much about them, we know for sure that they existed.
Because we are here today, alive.


Most likely, things were not as comfortable and safe as in today's advanced civilization
with iphones, medicines, overstocked shelves and safety ratings.


Instead, it must have been a constant survival against wilderness
including deadly beasts, insects, and so on.

Death was always knocking on the non-existent door,
if you lived during the cavemen era.


It can be said that amongst our own race,
it must have been critical to remember the faces of family members for survival purposes.
We or they, back then, stuck to people they knew, because others could've been crazies.

The more they saw the particular faces, the more comfortable they must have become.
Without the TV, photography, or painting, there was simply no method other than being physically  
present to familiarize themselves with the faces of the close ones.

Some scholars believe that TV world is merely leaching on this primal instincts of ours,
which our intelligence have no power against to reject.


When I see a beer, I must drink it.
There is nothing intelligent I can do, but run toward it and pop it open to chug it.
Well, let's not judge people, I am only human.


Anyways, if you remember or catch yourself developing feelings for people you see on TV,
and sometimes they can be ugly (in your taste), or not your type.
But if you see these celebrities on the street,
you scream at them that you love them and chase after them, and take pictures with them.


This sort of behaviors may just be caused by the above logic.
I think it's worth a thought today, since all these freaking people (with virtually no talent, just money) on ridiculous reality and other shows, which I know some of you love.


However, I can guarantee you, if for some reason you had to stop watching these shows for significant amount of time, you couldn't care less.
At all indeed.

It happened to me. Many times.
(I rarely watch TV now. Just Netflix. At least I have a choice on what I watch and when I watch.)

This whole thing reminds me of the end of "Trueman Show" by Jim Carrie.
And of course, the Plato's Cave.





I totally got sidetracked.
These mosquitoes. Let me slap my face.

Ok.





It wasn't IMAX she was talking about.
Instead, I saw three or four stars shooting across the sky at the same time.
I shouted,

 "........"

I was speechless. I think many of us were.
After a few seconds, we started praising at this marvelous sight of shooting stars flying across our vision in full screen (I did it again with the backward reference).


And they kept coming. I must have counted 20 something stars in a few short minutes.
That adviser, she must have been sent in by eHarmony.com..


Oh yeah, the Internet wasn't really popular yet back in 1997.

It's amazing and possibly frightening, how our surroundings, the way we communicate, and even our own existence has become based on virtual digital format in just over the past 15 years.

Virtual = no substance

But let's not forget we are physical beings.

I believe that there are positives and negatives in everything which exists in this world.
It is always important to look at things from both perspectives,
just so that they may not come back around and slap us in the face.


It's all about the balance, as Scottie used to always say..






I'm passing out as I write.
So I'm just gonna post it
without checking for typos and such.
Cause I love you all.
Thank you for reading.




love,


y



ps. my son won't let me sleep, so I came back.  Check it out.

zzz..

Spasibo, Russians

According to the stats provided by the mighty Google,
good numbers of people in Russia are reading my blogs.

I don't know a single person in Russia, so I though I was getting hacked by some KBG or whatever.
Just to clear my doubts, I just sent the big G an email to check on it.

Who are you people?
And thank you very much for reading my blogs!


спасибо, (spasibo)

y

Fudge

by me



One time when I was in Idaho, I went snowboarding with my good friend Travis.
Travis was a pretty decent snowboarder, and I took a first trip with him up to a place called
"Bogus Basin".  What a name.


It was my first time snowboarding, so I rented all the gears I needed and Travis showed me some basics at the base. I went down the bunny slope a couple of times, but it was so flat, which made it difficult to learn how to use the edges of the board.


So we got on one of the lifts, which Travis did say it was only going up to the middle,
where beginners and intermediate snowboarders ride.
It was my first time snowboarding, but I have skied several times in the past.
So I had a basic knowledge of ski resorts, such as what signs meant and stuff.

I saw the blue diamond trail signs fly by below me, and that's when I knew Travis was a big fat liar.
I looked at him and said,

"Hey, F U bro!"   (please excuse me of 15 years ago, I was a foreign juvenile).

He had a big smile on his face. I tried to push him off the chair for vengeance.
It swung pretty wild. We laughed out loud.


When we got to the top, I could see there were only single and double black diamond trails, let alone I never got on a lift being attached to a snowboard.

The unloading ramp was quite steep, and I launched myself like I just came off a catapult, since I had no muscle memories on this one. I went face down first, my legs tangled around the board like I was a freaking barbie doll being tortured by an aggressive infant. 
I was so flexible and agile back then, I was fine after a minute of recuperation. 



The trip down hill was no fun. It was a boot camp for my buttocks.
Like a masochistic monk of some sort, I did this about 5 times.
Well, I knew from other experiences, you know, no pain, no gain.
And after a couple of runs, I was starting to be able to cruise some parts of the ride.
My leg muscles were twitching and screaming from under my pants,
sweat was pouring out of my face like a kettle left boiling at high heat.
I must have looked like a die-hard nut, and I was.

Despite the theatrical expressions, I was cruising by the end of the day.
Travis was impressed, and told me, "you are crazy dude, but that was sick."


On other occasion at Bogus Basin,
I was on the lift by myself heading up, since Travis went to take you know what.
And I saw a pack of kids flying down on their snowboards.
One of them screamed as they passed right under the chair I was on.

"Fudge!!"

and another one also screamed,

"Oh fudge!!"

I couldn't see what was going on, since they already passed under me and were behind the trees.

I had no idea what "fudge" meant.
I doubted there was Mr. Kibbler standing on the side of the slope,
selling or giving away his marvelous inventions.
The fudge puzzled me for hours.


Later that day, I was cruising with Travis, and I saw the same pack of kids again in front of me.
So I screamed as I passed right by them, "oh, fudge!!"

They looked at me like I had five heads or something. Well, I couldn't really see their eyes covered by goggles, but they all looked back at me with puzzled expressions on their faces.

When we got down to the base, Travis asked me with a grin on his face,

"What the hell was that man? Fudge? What are you a Mormon?"

I looked back in anger as Oasis always told me not to do, and told him,

"Shut up Butt-Head, you are the moron!"

I said it in Beavis's voice.

(It was probably the most popular MTV show amongst the highschoolers I spent a year with.)

"Haha! Nah, dude, not moron, Mormon. That's classic! Your English is getting good man."

No, I didn't. I didn't know what Mormons were either.

Later on the way home, he explained to me what the whole
"fudge and morons" fiasco was all about.

Life was grand in Idaho.
Ignorance is bliss.



peace,


y

KEEP IT NATURAL pt. 4

by Yukito Yoneyama / 米山ゆきと


(I took a day off, just to see if anyone would freak.
I am glad to know people in the US have a great sense of humor.
If I were in Japan, someone may have showed up at my door step with a sword.. jk.)




Memory is a strange thing.
The things I remember from the 3 weeks in San Francisco are all in fragments.
The more I try to remember, the further they seem to float away, just as stars, planets, and galaxies are constantly driving themselves further away from the center of our universe as it seemingly expands to infinity, followed by the attempts of human intelligence trying our best to give meanings to our fragile and finite existence.


I look back in time and try to find the points of connections within my memories, in order to give meanings to my seemingly chaotic life.


The things I remember, or the images that surface to my mind from the 15-year-depth of my memories, are the parking lot of College of Notre Dam at night, lit by the orange-hued street lights with drama-shots standing under them, railroad tracks stretching to the horizon and beyond, window sills of a bus with glares of California sunshine reflecting my youthful and handsome profile ; ), section of freeways, Safeway sign, and so on.
Each of these fragments are intertwined, somehow forming these abstract images.

Most of them involve several other students who were in the program with me.
Toshi, the other dude, is in majority of them, since we became almost like brothers during our orientation. I also developed close friendships with a few others.

I am going to use nicknames, to respect their privacy. I feel like House.
(Toshi, you are an exception, take it as a compliment. Truth be told, I didn't think that far when I started writing..)



Lolita was one of them. She was always dressed in kind of Lolita-like fashion with her short hair dyed blonde. I can't remember what part of Japan she was from, but I think she was from the West (could've been the North), since she had an accent. If you put a gun in her hand, I would have thought she was Uma Thurman in Pulp Fiction, or Natalie Portman in The Professional (but blonde).
So she was a badass Lolita from the West in the far East.

Then there was Straight-up, who was also from the West in the far East.
The thing I remember about her is that she was straight up and forward (hence the nickname).
If I have been sweating all day from running around trying to see everything in the city, she would tell me,

"You stink, go wash yourself off will ya?!"

Or if Toshi was having hard time trying to decide what to eat at a cafeteria, she would say,

"Hey you wishywashy, wtf, make up your mind already and get outta my way, will ya?!"
(I could've nicknamed her "Willya?")

And she meant no harm. It was one of those methods of communication that left you with a sense of clearance. It reminded me of strong winds blowing dark and heavy clouds out of the sky above, or waves of the ocean crashing into a rocky shore.

Western accent of Japanese have this frank, friendly, and sometimes blunt tone to it, kind of similar to the Southern accent of the US, at least that's my impression.
Between Lolita and straight-up, these two were unstoppable.

Toshi and I were both from the East, him coming from smack middle of Tokyo, and I from Yokohama, which is adjoined to Tokyo. Eastern Japanese, which is considered "standard" Japanese has a bit of neutralized, homogenized, and pasteurized sound to it. (that sounds really boring. And in a way it is) What happens usually is that when the Eastern Japanese hang out with Western Japanese too long, the accent starts to creep in.
I caught Toshi saying things like, "Ya'all, How U doing tonight."
(well, I can't explain it in Japanese, so I blended Southern and New York accents together. I hope you get it.)

I have a friend from Japan whom I grew up together.
Later in life he studied abroad and went to University of Texas.
He ended up developing Japanese-Southern accent, which must sound really funny.
(He would never speak to me in English, but I have seen him posting on Facebook saying "Ya'all".

Whatever it was, Toshi just sounded funny. What made it even funnier is that I think he was asking for their approval for the correct pronunciation.
Toshi was good like that. He was so into things, I mean everything, and he almost innocently wanted to do all of them right.


Just like in the US, people often times take pride in their regions of origin and their accents. Imagine a New Yorker (a Yankee) visiting down South and asking a red neck for a correct way to say "Ya'all" or "Tuesdee", like my photography professor in college used to say. He was from down South somewhere. (I love the Southern Comfort, no, not just the liquor, and Gumbo, mmm... getting hungry here. I'm gonna take a break. Be right back.)


So anyway, because of his good and honest nature, Toshi got along with everyone. And most importantly, he was always happy and positive.
In most cases, it was him being innocently happy and blindly naive, while Lolita and Straight-up was chewing him up without him even knowing.


Don't get me wrong, these two girls were cute and innocent in their own ways.
Lolita was carrying her teddy bear friend with her at all times, and I think she was in the midst of her teenage heartbreak of some sort, I don't remember.
Straight-up was infatuated head over heels with this guy, who was one of the students from other programs. She thought he looked like Ichiro (Yes, the baseball player. He was yet to join MLB, but was already famous and popular in Japan.)
In most days, she seemed to live up in the lala land clouds when talking about Ichiro, like any healthy or unhealthy teenagers do.



We talked about lots of stuff. I mean we talked about life, love, family, friends, school, Japan, US, the world, and whatever else that came to our teenage minds.

And when we hung out, it was always at night outside in a parking lot or a courtyard on campus under the street lights (no drama-shots here). At least my memories tell me so.

Naive was also around sometimes. She was in a semi-serious relationship (how serious can it be when you are 16, 17, but the existence of the whole universe depends on those things when you are in that age group. well, for any age group I suppose.) with this guy who were back in Japan, who was much older, probably around 22 or something. It was one of those cases an innocent young was preyed by a much older and experienced one. At least it seemed to me that way, since she was kind of clueless on the matter.
Regardless, I think Champ-the-Teddy-Bear had a thing for her. He seemed concerned every time she was feeling down after talking to her older boyfriend. I guess he wasn't very nice to her.




So when we all took a trip to Yosemite National Park, many yet-to-spark romance fuses were laid under the park prior to our arrival.
I am not sure, but I think the program buried them the night before we got there..
But it was just such a "Wet Hot International Summer."



On the way to Yosemite National Park, I remember the scenery which I saw out the window.
It seemed desolate. And it was close to what I imagined the surface of Mars to look like.
That part of California did look like desert with patches of bushes scattered across the landscape. Light-hued blue sky looked darker as it retreated away from the horizon, contrasting the color of the sand-colored ground below.
In the far distance, I saw numbers of windmill spinning by themselves, as if they were abandoned by an alien civilization from millenniums ago. It looked all so surreal. I can't remember a thing about what was going on inside the bus.


When we arrived at Yosemite, I was in Awe. I must say, this continent has wonderful diversity of natural landscapes, which never seize to amaze me even to this day.

In Japan, we find beauty in everyday nature around us, which are rarely jaw-dropping, or astonishing.
Rather, our culture found the way to appreciate seemingly ordinary things around us, giving them meanings to enrich our mortal human life.
Don't get me wrong, Japan does have dynamic display of nature. However, as you may be familiar with our traditional arts, such as Bonsai, or Zen garden, it almost work backwards on scale of things.
In my opinion, both perspective is equally appreciative, if you can plug into the given mindset.



So when I saw the Yosemite Dome for the first time, my jaw fell on the bus floor.
Before I could pick it up and put it back in place, we were off the bus.


First, we had to check into our new home where we were going to spend the next 3 days (I think it was three days). They had variety of camp sites, for trailers, tents, and the tentish-cabin looking thing we were going to stay in. It was about 10'x10', covered in water-proofed canvas or vinyl sheet, in the shape of a little cabin in the woods. It housed about 5 or 6 of us.



As we walked across the parking lot where the bus had dropped us off, I saw signs with pictures of bear on them. I could tell that these bears were not the adorable mascots of the park, since the signs had universal warning esthetics to it.


When I walked up closer, it read, "Beware of bears."
I looked around immediately, my hand holding the handle of my sword tight, no, my hands up in peek-a-boo style, since I have never encountered a bear in my life except in a zoo.
It looked peaceful in the park. No one was screaming, nor did I hear gun shots.


We were led by the program advisers into a lodge, which held a main office.
Again, I can only remember the exterior, surrounded by tall trees, lights falling between the swinging leaves of the summer.  I do remember, though, it had a very at home atmosphere inside.



The order of events are all mixed up, as the memories which left lasting impressions fly through my mind with series of images like strobe flash.



One of the events are a walk through the forest of giant redwoods, standing tall while pointing straight up to the deep blue sky. I can recall standing in a tunnel which went through a trunk of one of the giants.
I am pretty sure I made a peace hand sign while being photographed by someone, using my disposal camera. I guess most of my memories are linked to the images of photographs from my collection of disposal cameras.


There was this waterfall to which we had to climb up good numbers of boulders.
I would look up every time I climb up a boulder, and I will be blinded by the sun.
The sun at high noon positioned itself over the top of the waterfall.
Splash of mist from the fall was creating clouds above us, in front of the clouds which were up high in the sky, blown by the wind.
I saw a few rainbows appear and disappear in my peripheral vision.
Something about this climb felt spiritual, as if I was ascending to the garden of the gods.




All of us students were constantly astonished by the grand scale of the park. It was just so beautiful in every aspect. The fresh scent of air filled with breaths of trees, the unseen species of birds and other animals who showed themselves without the gestures of fear.

Coming from the urban environment of a big city, I wasn't used to this kind of friendly encounter. Animals in Yokohama, or nearby Tokyo were always on the run. I could tell that they did not trust us humans. They were soldiers of survival, who had cynical and sometimes jaded expressions on their face filled with distrust and fear (At least that was my impression).
At Yosemite, they were proud and joyous residents of the landscape, who claimed their place on this planet with dignity (they just looked happy, and I get it. good for them).


When we hiked through one of the trails, one of us suggested to carve our names on one of the trees near by, just as any teenagers would do (such and such were here, year xxxx. we see them everywhere nature and human presence intersect).

I think it was my idea, of course, go leader! But I will leave a room to blame it on someone else.
I say "blame" because as we began to carve names on the tree trunk with a pocket knife one of us carried, another hiker approached from the other end of the trail and yelled, "Hey!! you can't do that! this park is a preserve!" or something of that nature.
None of us were yet to be fluent in English, so it caught us completely off-guard.
If it happened today, I would probably say,

"Hey, mind your own business, buttocks! And make sure you bring your own beer to the party!"(?)

No, I would respect the beautiful preserve as it is. If everyone who visits Yosemite carved her/his name on a tree nearby, the whole park would look like a rack of mini license plates key chain with every possible names written of it, which we can find at any gift shop.
That won't be good.

So, like a good and polite teenager from Japan, I pulled out a sword and charged at this good-natured stranger who probably really loved the park and just wanted to protect it best he can, so that the children of his children can someday enjoy this wonderful place.

No, no sword, instead, we said to the dude,

"sorry, we did not know." in broken pronunciation.

I certainly grew respect for this stranger ranger of the forest as time went on.
He was being a prick for yelling at us, but it probably was not the first time for him to see things of this nature. Regardless, I believe that we all have to act responsible when we spend time in nature.
So I take full blame and responsibility for my carving action.



Later in life, I spent a year in Oahu, Hawai'i (this is the authentic spelling of the word).
The situation at one of the national preserve, Hanauma Bay is an alarming example.
The bay seemed to me the one of the most beautiful tropical sites, once reserved for Hawai'ian Royalty.
Despite its diverse variety of marine life, emerald green water, and seemingly beautiful white coral, the reality was grim.
The white color of coral reef was actually the sign of death of the reef. The cause was sunscreens which most visitors put on before entering the water. At one point, it welcomed over 3 million tourists per year.
The rest goes without saying. This is just a tip of the iceberg.
I must question the careless introduction and promotion of tourism directed to these fragile ecosystems, driven by profit-oriented corporations.




Anyways, let's get back to the Yosemite paradise..
During the stay at the park, we spent most of the daytime hiking, playing in creeks,
bathing in the summer sunshine and the fresh forest air.
There is nothing like spending time in the wilderness, even though the nature at the park was well maintained by the help of human hands.

I remember us playing in one of the creeks.
It was a wide section of the creek we found during one of the hikes.
I was standing on a shore, looking at a large boulder sitting in the middle of the creek.
Toshi, Lolita, Straight-up, Champ, Naive, Drama-shots, and maybe a few others were either sitting on top of the boulder or bathing in the creek around it.


I went to the shore to get a good picture of them, probably for both Drama-shots and myself.
They looked like fairies or some mythological beings from classic paintings at the Met.
It was one of the most peaceful sceneries I had ever seen..


I took a moment to breath in the sweet air, and joined them.



The daytime adventures at Yosemite left another lasting impression on me.
As I write this, I can't wait to dig out the photographs from these wonderful days,
which are buried somewhere back home in Japan.
I am not sure when I can get back home, but these memories gives me inspiration
every time they surface to my mind.

The night time at Yosemite is another story...





to be continued...






Thank you for reading.
I'm glad you came back.
But don't get too comfortable, I might feed you to the bears at Yosemite..
So keep your shotgun loaded for the next one.
No, I hate guns with passion,
So keep your beer ice cold cause it's really hot and humid out here in NY.
Seriously. 



love,


y


ps. I used many "sword" reference, but neither people in Japan nor I carry a sword today.

peace
 

Thank you & 一緒に留学した皆さんへ。

Thank you for reading my blogs,
I wanted to take a moment and thank you for putting up with me and my broken English.
I write mostly in a half-zombie state, and I spend the next day fixing the typos and errors.
To those who read them earlier, I would love for you to come back and read them again and again, since the posts are constantly evolving (until I feel that they can stand on their own feet).
I wanted you to be addicted to the point where you won't be able to go to sleep without reading my blogs. If I miss a day of writing, you will freak out on me.
That would be great. (please don't ever take me seriously ) ; )


I would also love to hear any feed-backs, since this is a learning experience on my end.
I always wanted to write, but never really took courage to actually do it.
After my son was born exactly 3 weeks ago from today, it just started to pour out of me.
Maybe my newborn son is remote controlling me, these babies.. I think they have magical powers.
Anyways, thanks again, and I hope you enjoy my gibberish and keep coming back for more because I just might stop writing all of the sudden. You don't wanna miss a thing!



love,


y



ps. To those with whom I was fortunate enough to share the wonderful experiences in San Francisco, please email me what you remember about it. My memories are in fragments. After all, it has been 15 years. I have pictures stored somewhere back in Japan, which would bring back lots of details, but I won't make it back there for a while.
Please let me know how you are doing, if you read this.
Thanks!




ps.　一緒に留学した皆さんへ。

お久しぶりです。かれこれもうあれから１５年、
時の流れは本当に、あーあー川の流れのようにー（最近こればっかり）、
って演歌歌手か。
書き出したとたん、思い出が断片的にじわじわ戻りだしてきてちと感動。
あやふやな記憶をもとにかなり勝手なこと書きまくってますが 、
もしみなさんの覚えている事、思い出した事、またその後のお話し等、
なにかあったら教えてチョ！　
１５年たってみたらかなりぶっとんだ米山です。
僕的に、これを機会にみなさんと一緒に思い出大全集みたいなのをつくりたい、
と勝手に独断と偏見で盛り上がってます。わくわくしてもう何日も寝てません。うそ。
実家に写真とかメッセージテープ（くさいことしましたね。ふた開けちゃいましょう。）
とか埋まってるはずなんですが、帰れるのがいつになるやら。

あの一年、ぼくの人生において一番強烈、かつ濃い一年でした。
１８０度大転換といっても過言ではないと想う。
何かの縁で一緒に過ごした３週間、忘れる事は一時としてありません。
なんか卒業式でかかされた一文みたいになってしまいましたが、本音です。

これからもよろしく！
（酒乱の方々、おちょこ洗って待っとれい！　いざ。）

リーダー（元）
yukitoyoneyama@gmail.com
www.facebook.com/yukito.yoneyama

KEEP IT NATURAL pt. 3

by Yukito Yoneyama / 米山ゆきと


San Francisco was an amazing city.
It could have been that it was my first foreign city I have ever visited.
Or maybe it was driven by the hopeful mind state of my sonic youth.
The sky felt higher and larger.
The air tasted somewhat sweeter.


I remember the visit downtown, which was led by one of the local volunteer students who were helping out with the program. I think her name was Heidi. Most of us agreed on her having a notoriously sized behind, ahh, she had a huge butt alright. (I'm not sure If "bigger the better" applies on this one, depends) And we were thin...perceptions. After being here for over a decade, I probably wouldn't notice it, if I went back in time to see her. I'm just saying, it is all relative.
She was probably thinking we look like toothpicks.
Heidi was really nice and patient. Imagine yourself leading 26 clueless Japanese students who don't really speak English, through downtown San Francisco. She must have been a saint.



I grew up in Yokohama, Japan, an industrial/historical city by the sea.
Ever since I was a kid, I could sense the ocean from miles away.
I always thought it was the slight difference in the color of the sky, or the faint scent of salty ocean water in the air, and the sight of seagulls gliding in midair.
All of which whispered that the ocean was near.


I could feel that same sensation in San Francisco.
Strangely enough, I felt somewhat at home in this completely foreign city, which I have never set my foot on as long as I could remember.


The famous San Fran fog left a lasting impression on me.
We went down to Haight Street, where the whole hippie movement took place back in the 60's.
Most of us were (can't take credits for the others, but I definitely was) avid subscribers of American subcultures, which instigated us to travel to the other side of the Earth to actually spend a whole entire year with you crazy Americans.
The baits that got me were A-team, 90210, Colombo, Alf, Fullhouse, Back to the Future, Endless Summer, Extreme Sports, and Punk-O-Rama.
Be hold! the power of the mass media.
Mr. T really screwed up my life.

They used to air these shows on TV all dubbed in Japanese.
Brandon says, "konnichiwa!", seriously.
And all Japanese girls would have seizures and collapse like the fans at the Beatles concert.
You wish.


So when we went to the Haight Street, we were like an army of shopaholics.
I mean it was a center of hippie culture where most stores dealt with used clothing Salvation Army style. We weren't at Macy's, but with shopping bags hanging and swinging from our arms, we looked like we just came out of 5th Avenue.
Once again, Frodo, no, Harry must have cast a "Cultural Confusion" spell on all 26 of us.
(He swung his wand and shouted, "Cultus Confucius!!")

There we were, stopping over almost every single store on the street, buying up the whole store-full of second-hand clothing. Maybe it was Heidi, she could have been a witch.
The hippie dudes and chicks sitting on the street were kinda dazed away but definitely looking at us, but we thought "they are just curious because we are not hippies."


What I didn't tell you is that in the 90's, there was this huge fanatic trend for second-hand clothing, which perpetuated the entire Japan. It was driven by the fashion industry I suppose, but it was insane.
Retailers would come to the US and buy up used clothing and bring them back to Japan so that they can jack up the price to the stratosphere and make record high profits.

I remember one of the shops listed on popular fashion magazines in Tokyo was selling so-called vintage Levi's jeans for $10,000.
No, I did not put a comma/period in a wrong spot. Ten-thousand US dollars.
The thing was that the "true vintage" had to have "LEVI'S"(with capital letters), not regular "Levi's" (with lowercase letters) on a red tag located by the back pocket of the jeans.
They must have created the tags and sew them on, but hey, you never know.
Whatever. It was just absurd..

But brilliant! Why didn't I think of it!?
Amazing geniuses. "To those who are about to buy, I salute you!"

It was also linked to the whole grunge movement, which came out of the rainy city of Seattle just around the same time frame.
So now it makes perfect sense that we had to buy all these stores up religiously to reach Nirvana.
....



After about an hour of this, it was around 4 o'clock.
Despite the fact that it was July, as soon as you enter a shade, it was a bit chilly.
I tried to stay in the direct sun to stay warm. Then, I felt the temperature drop down, and all of the sudden, mysterious fog rolled in from nowhere.

I wasn't prepared, even though they had told me about it in the orientation.
I though the government was spraying DDT on us, to prevent the incurable shopaholism.
It was too late. We had already decimated the second-hand resources for the millenniums to come.

The above description totally ruined the mystique and poetic nature of this event.
Let's do it again.





After about an hour of wandering thorough the street where free-spirited youths once sang their songs of love and freedom, the mysterious fog rolled in from nowhere..
Just a split moment before this, I could see down the sunny stretch of the street for miles,
since it was a straight line.
The right hand side was up hill, and the left went down towards the water.
The fog rolled down the hill, pouring into the bay passing me sideways, as if it was in a hurry to cover up this dreamy street of love and freedom to keep it from being seen by the all-seeing-eye.
For a moment, I though the time had stopped.
Nothing moved, then disappeared.. the hippies hanging out on the street, cars, birds, and even the sounds around me has seized their cycles of vibration. I could not see anything but my feet. Everything disappeared into a complete whiteout as if I was on the top of Tetons in the height of winter.


I heard this sound, so peaceful and sweet, like a lullaby I once heard when I was a baby..
Then, it was over.
Fog rolled down the hill, and all beings on the street came back to their existence as if Michelangelo pulled a white sheet off his "Pieta" for the first time for the world to see.


It was one of those moments in life where I felt closer to the heavens.
The memory of this moment will stay with me for eternity.



..Then I saw the shopping bags swinging again.





As the end of our orientation neared, all of us were becoming more and more familiar with the city.
the program allowed us to wander around on our own, after the initial introduction, thanks to the generous help from Heidi.


There is another vivid memory of mine.
I took a bus downtown by myself, or maybe I was with Toshi and a few others, I don't remember.
I looked out the window and saw the bus was about to go over a bridge or a part of an overpass of the freeway (highway for Californians).
It must have been the mighty Golden Gate Bridge.

There were only handful people on the bus.
I had my favorite Shockwave Walkman in camouflage clipped on my belt with headphones on my ears. This was my routine in my high school life in Yokohama.
When you put on the headphones with the tunes of your beliefs, the whole cityscape starts to dance in musical ensemble, spinning with beats like a vinyl.
What I loved the most was being on the train in Japan with my headphones on.
Something about it, it was sublime.


The bus was now going over the bridge, and it was around the time when the sun was starting to lean its head on a broad shoulder of the horizon. I was sitting on a seat, which faced a window on the other side across the aisle.

Through the window was the most beautiful scenery I had ever seen.
The view of downtown San Fran shining in a golden backdrop cast by the setting sun, draped by the mystic fog of the Pacific.
The Transamerica Pyramid pointing to the heavens above, spinning the city around its axis.
Through the headphones I heard the songs of my time, a mix tape dedicated to our youthful journey composed by my good friend back home.


There is something about San Francisco.
Even after 15 years, these timeless memories take me back to where I was, who I was, and who I wished to be. I promised myself back then that I will stay young as long as I can.
I dearly and sincerely hope that this part of me will never truly change.

We age everyday and every moment as we speak.. at least physically.
We do everything we can to negate the relentless effects of passing time.. but we know that we cannot stop the time.
A good friend of mine once told me after returning from a trip to Machu Picchu,

"Yukito, there is no such thing as time."

It was the people of this country, the free, the brave, and the sometimes reckless,
who showed me that it is all up to what you hold dear in your heart.
Stay young in your heart, and you can live in youthful spirit forever.






... to be continued.






Thank you for reading.


I told you not to come back. I'm impulsive.
Just a nature of things.
Maybe next time, I will do Yosemite.
I hope I betrayed your expectations.
We need more of that today, not to expect anything out of life.
I think to myself.



love,

y