The Last Train Home

Mmh, just an observation I made the other night. I was out with some friends, having a few drinks with some people I haven't met in a long, long time on the occasion of one of them being back over here on a visit from Montreal. It was so lovely to see them again, catch up, have a few beers... So when the one pub closed at eleven we went around the corner in search of one with a longer license. Which we found in the form of a Wetherspoons, yes, I know, which has a license until twelve, enough time for another drink or two and then still catch a train home. London's tubes and overground stop around midnight, but unlike some other major cities such as Tokyo London has at least a nightbus service, so I wasn't too worried. Still, we managed to get the last tube up North-East, while they were closing off the entrances and passages behind us. Kind of a weird feeling, being shut into an underground system, much like being shut into a cave. 

Anyway, so we hopped on the train, which was almost empty. An empty tube in London is something I have not really seen before, I must say. Yes, there are times when it is easier to get a seat, but apart from us there were maybe a handful of people on the entire train. Ah well, ok, maybe two handfuls, but the principle still stands. And it just made me realise how different some cities' dynamics are. London, being overcrowded at almost any other time of the day seems to scare off the last few customers on the tube, maybe because in this grey zone, when you are not sure if you can still make the train all the way down three floors under ground, it is just easier or just more relaxing to opt for the bus in the first place, which you know will run all night. 

Whichever the reason, I found the experience quite fascinating. The main reason being that the last city I was depending on last trains quite a lot, more so than in London since they do not have any night service at all, as in none, zilch, zero, nothing to get you home but a taxi, a bicycle or your feet, was Osaka. Same time of the evening, as in around midnight, the last train would leave, and if you weren't on it, well, let's say night-time karaoke and then a long extended coffee in Royal Host has been a frequent occurrence. But these trains, my, how different an experience they are from the tube. The last train in Osaka is the drunk train. Not that the handful of people on the last tube aren't also drunk, I know we were, in various degrees. But the last train back home to Kadoma from Yodoyabashi was a sight for sore eyes. In the sense that sometimes you wished they were sore and you didn't have to witness this. The funnier things involve drunk suited businessmen sleeping all over the place, benches on the platform, in the train on the seats, or simply somewhere on the floor. And - the train is usually crowded. As a good Japanese you know your timetable. No grey zone, you know exactly how long it takes you to get to that train. And many take advantage of that. So while the trains around 10pm may be fairly empty, the last train at 12:20 is crammed. And being squashed closely to a bunch of really drunk people, well, it's not the nicest of experiences. Even if you are a head higher up, the smell still reaches you. Blessed be the custom of having a bath after you get home in the evening. 

Well, these are just two last train home experiences. I can not for the life of me remember what it was like in Hamburg when I was living there, nor in Kuala Lumpur, since there I more regularly missed the last train if I had to get it, thanks to the loose definition of a timetable of the bus services. My saviour there usually was my friend who took it upon herself to save me from evil people at night, and instead lead me to the best food places on earth, and I love her forever for that. But that leads us away from the trains, so I will just leave you right here for the night, on whichever train you see fit.

  

Reality Bites... or Reality Can Bite Me

Reality is what you make it. It's all in your head. Isn't that what they say? Well, starting from Plato's cave I suppose it is true. We all perceive reality in some way, but never see the whole picture. Each time science, or philosophy for that matter, discovers something new our view on what constitutes reality changes. We now know that what we see is not all there is to it. And just because we cannot see something does not mean it is not there. I'm not talking about ghosts, although I would include them in this category. But just think of bacteria crawling on a table. Now that we have microscopes we can prove they are there, but without it we don't see them. 

And more, everybody sees things in their own way, on the basis of their physical and psychological situation: the table I see is not the same table that you see. We may see the colours differently, or maybe I grew up in a culture where I have only ever seen tiny little wicker tables and suddenly, when seeing a wooden dinner table seating 8 am astonished that this is possible. And even further, just the word table, assuming we both speak English and understand its meaning, will summon a different picture in our minds, and will never include everything a table in reality is or can be. It is only an approximation, Derrida sends his regards... But this is not really what I want to talk about.

So, back to reality. What is real? And who says it is? If I experience something, with my senses that lead the information into my brain, which in turn interprets that in some way, then I experience a reality. Say, if I touch that dinner table, and feel that it is cold, that the wood has this slightly grooved pattern, I can see it is brown, I might even still smell the wood if it's new, or the polish someone used to make it shiny, then my senses send this information to my brain, which tells me after interpreting all the facts that this is indeed a table. It is real, empirically. So how is this experience then any more real than if I had the same experience in a dream? An experience that I have experienced should mean just the same, if in a dream or when awake. How do I even know if I am awake, would Descartes ask, if my experiences in a dream feel the same? How do I know that this reality here, now, is not all a dream? It does not make much more sense than a dream, so what is the difference? Do I wait for a pink bunny to hop by to decide which is real and which isn't?  And if it did, how would I be sure that pink bunnies in fact do not exist after all? Maybe someone just went a little crazy with a can of spray paint?

No, don't worry, I don't think I have gone mad. I do like these thought experiments, though. Reality is what you make in your head, reality is what your brain summarises from all the information it gets from you, whether through the senses or even through memories, and sometimes through false memories or dreams, which is where it can get tricky. But it is not always something substantial in the 'real world' that let's me experience something. Why else do I get sad when thinking about breaking up with the last boyfriend almost 3 weeks ago, even though I saw the reasons for it to happen? Logically there is no reason to be sad, psychologically (ha, I love that this has logic in it too, the logic of the psyche, as in opposed to rational logic...), however, my body reacts to the experience with tears and that sagging feeling in my stomach. Experiences turn into physical manifestations. Your body makes them into something, it reacts. And strangely enough, sometimes the body reacts to something, in some way, even though you know that there is no real reason for it to do so. And strange situations ensue. 

The other day, when everything came crashing down on me all at once, from every imaginable corner of my life, and it was all too much suddenly, I had a panic attack. A mild one, if I go by accounts of it. But frightening nonetheless. And I knew it was a panic attack, I knew that the feeling of choking and my body fighting for breath was just my body reacting to too much stress, and that even though it felt like I might, I would not die. I even knew I had to reach out to someone to calm me down, and started texting whoever came to mind, which in my confused state was quite random, asking for someone to arrange to meet. Even if not right then, the prospect of a chance to just cry on someone's shoulder would have helped. Only my ex replied, which I am still grateful for, even if he was definitely not the best choice in the situation. But I was panicking. I still needed someone to calm me down though, and simply accosted my one flatmate who was at home, who looked very scared, but managed to calm me down, say the right things, and just let me breathe. Other than the other one who, when he got home, somehow managed to make everything worse, and every single sentence he said was like a kick in the guts while I was already down. Even though I know he just wanted to help, all I wanted was for him to shut up, but I couldn't say anything, not even get up and leave the room. Anyway, throughout all this I was aware that all my bodily reactions, the choking and the cramps in my stomach, were not actually based on anything other than my thoughts. 

So how real are thoughts then? I mean, I know that now I am broke, I have no job and trouble finding one, and am alone again without a man who is there to hold me and give me at least the illusion of a partnership. I also know that I need to focus on things I like, and things I need, to counterbalance the negatives. And I know that things will get better soon, because I have always found a job, and chances are much better in the next couple of months than they have been until now, purely statistically speaking. I know that I will survive for money, because there are ways to deal with my situation, like benefits and lovely flatmates who agreed to help by postponing the rent. And I know that I can live my life without that man, maybe even better, and that there are so many things I enjoy doing, and so many people to enjoy these things with. How do I know if any of that is real? How do I know that maybe not the negatives are the reality, and that my other flatmate was right when he said it was my fault I didn't get that last job because I posted a comment about me wanting the job on Facebook, and that I will never find a job if I don't get happy pills right now even though taking pills will make me feel so much worse because I will consider that like I'd have crossed that last line? I mean, all this sounds just so wrong to me, but how do I know that maybe this is what's right and I am the one who's wrong? Because my gut tells me?

Well, reality is what you make of it. So all I gotta do is decide what I consider to be real, right? Decide, and the body will follow, eventually. At the moment it just sometimes takes too much energy to decide, or even to notice that there is a choice. I mean, there is always a choice, even if I don't see it. It is all a matter of what my mind lets me see and what not. Or rather, what I let my mind allow me to see. After all, I am the one creating my reality, and my choices. I just wish I had finally figured out how to control all that a little more, so that I can decide on my experiences and my reality, and not let experiences create a reality for me. Tricky...             

Fighting the Zombie in Me

  I have my Japanese dad staying with me at the moment, and he will be sharing my room for two months. I know I will probably wish for some solitude at some point during this time, but right now I am so glad that he is here. And he has made me notice in just what state I have been in lately, something I had not realised, not to that extent at least...

  Shortest way to describe it: I've been zombified. Spending days on end on job search and applications, being glued to the computer, sounds like I should be wanting to get out and run around every chance I get, right? I kind of do. Doesn't work that way though. 

  At the moment this situation drains every last bit of energy, to the extent that if I don't pay attention I don't manage to get out at all into the fresh air (well, this is London, so fresh air is a relative term, but you know what I mean, right?). Worse, I get so drawn into these applications that I have even on occasion forgotten to eat or things like that. And it is difficult to conjure up the energy to take initiative and meet friends unless they call, which is very isolating. I am a social person, I need human contact, an evening out with friends to catch up, sitting around and just having a laugh and a nice chat about something, anything, as long as it's not exclusively about finding a job gives me so much energy... 

  Unfortunately my mind won't come up with topics by itself these days, as all revolves around applications and the misery of existential fears creeping up on me. Which eats away on my energy. Which makes it harder to arrange to meet friends for a change of scenery. Which keeps me stuck with more applications and thoughts about fears. Which drains more energy... you see where I'm going with this? A bottomless downward spiral...

  Having my otousan here has forced me to wake up. He is one of those people who can hardly stop smiling, or talking for that matter, and even if it is all in Japanese and trying to dig out that vocabulary somewhere in the back of my mind to follow his stories or reply myself takes a lot of energy, it has a different effect on me. My brain seems to work again! Well, in the sense that it can bring up stories or anecdotes again that have nothing to do with throwing in key words such as flexible or multi-tasking. And I remember that there were actually things out there that I was interested in. Like books! Like history! Like art and museums, and just learning new things! And I love taking friends around and showing them London, finding things or places to interest them so that they can fall in love with this place the same way that I have.

  So, even if I'll have no moment of quiet in a while and no spare time between job hunt, my volunteer job, and taking otousan around London, at least that means I will also have no time to dwell on breaking up with the boyfriend or on worries about what will happen if the job hunt doesn't bear fruit anytime soon. And I can finally fight the zombie off and start to think again! Reclaim my brain, the slogan of the day...

  

     

Step by Step...

... and no, I don't mean the song by New Kids on the Block. I just realised that it's kind of strange, that I know exactly that I have to go through this step by step. Breakups tend to go through this pattern with me. First there's the hurt and the sense of failure when I realise that my feelings are not reciprocated and the relationship is not going to work. Then logic sets in and between bouts of illogical hurt and tears explains that this is the way it is. Mostly I get to anger about the same time, and betrayal because he was not honest about his feelings, pretended too long and had me believe it was something mutual. Anger is the easiest part for me to deal with, easy to talk about, easy to let out, easy to overcome. The sense of failure is the hardest, and I still don't know how to handle it. Then at some point the next step is almost unnoticeable, but suddenly it gets better, things that happened don't matter that much anymore, and the realisation that this is just another experience, and the next one will come, sets in. It still hurts on occasion, but not that much anymore. 

I know this is what is going to happen, I just wish I could already be out of this paralysing feeling of hurt, which blocks out logic and reason. Well, I guess it's gotta be one step at a time...  

The Weight of the World

Black clouds have surpassed themselves. But let's start with the bright side: I got an interview invite, and even if that is only one step, and who knows what happens next, it is certainly a booster. 

But the boyfriend issue has flared up, badly. Here I thought I had found someone who is grown up enough to have an honest relationship with, and then at the first sign of a problem, when I question his behaviour, he has suddenly decided that he doesn't like me enough to want to be with me anymore. Just great. And the night before he had apparently forgotten all about that, very conveniently. Even greater. So, either he is a total jerk who has knowingly lied to me for months with every word and bit of behaviour, or is he a colossal coward who wouldn't admit his feelings, either to himself if the bit of not liking enough is true, or to me if his behaviour is true.

So now, instead of preparing for my interview on Monday I can hardly concentrate on anything, let alone see through bursts of tears. Exactly what I needed. Job trouble, man trouble, money trouble... and I'm feeling sick, but that's probably because of being upset. It feels like all the weight of the world is crushing down on me. Black clouds concentrate... 

I know it will only take a bit of time and then all is getting better, I just really wish I was there already, cause this here is seriously no fun. At least my Japanese dad is coming to visit from Saturday, he is always happy and funny and will be a great distraction.  

It's all gonna be better soon, but just now the weight is feeling like it's unbearable. Apparently I still haven't learned how to deal with crisis... or November. Which is potentially the same thing...    

Chasing Away Black Clouds

Well, November is almost gone, and I haven't posted anything in a while. Mainly because I didn't know what to talk about. I still haven't found a job here, which is strange... I have never had a problem finding a job before, but this time? I don't even understand why. And despite it all, I am still convinced I will have a job very soon. But I've been convinced for a while now... 

Another surprising thing is how little it depresses me. This jobhunting is stressful, it is frustrating, all those applications I spend hours or days preparing and then I don't even get a reply, yes, it is very very frustrating. But I usually keep in good spirits, and focus on things to balance out the application stress, like yoga, or books, or my volunteering in the charity shop. And that in the face of me not being able to pay my rent anymore next month. I have applied for benefits, but it's been 2 months and they still haven't made a decision, which means I am still unsure how it will go on. But luckily my friends here in the flat are so lovely and let me pay whenever I do get money again. Another thing to be glad about.

But then the black clouds swoop in, rarely, but if they do they rain down on me with force. Which is why I am sitting here, at 2am, writing. Writing just to get it out. Get what out exactly? I am not even sure. 

It's the frustration about the jobhunt that hardly even brings a response, after something like 140 applications; it's insecurity about what might be if the benefits still haven't come through when the last money runs out; it's a sudden feeling of loneliness, which is kind of normal when you sit cooped up with your laptop working hours on end, day and night, on ways to convince some unknown entity at the end of an email address or website, who you hope is actually real, or even human, that you are the right person for the job, but at the cost of human contact. It's the disappointment that my boyfriend, who really has been a rock for me in all of this, even if he doesn't realise it because he doesn't understand all this feelings stuff, needs time to do things on his own, alone or with his friends, and it's my paranoia reading things into this which I will probably laugh about in a couple of days. It's the frustration about having agreed to let a friend of my flatmates stay in my room with me the last nights that I will have it to myself, out of some misplaced sense of guilt towards them because I can't pay the rent next month, even though I don't even particularly like their friend... 

Tonight will be my last night alone in here for quite a while, since I have my Japanese dad come and visit, for at least a month and a bit, but that is something I am very much looking forward to. Yes, it may be that I will wish for a room to myself at some point during his stay, but I am looking forward to having someone around whose company I enjoy, and who will make sure, just by being here, that I won't have time to worry about black clouds in a while. And my Japanese sister and her nephew will follow at Christmas, so it will be a bit like camping in here I suppose, but I like camping with people I love.

So here they are, the clouds, and keep me awake. Tomorrow is a new day, I have an appointment again at the jobcentre, not that they help with getting a job, after all, what can they do that I am not already doing anyway? No, they need to check that I am still looking, even if I don't know what has become of my benefit claim yet that requires me to check in with them. I fail to see the logic in that, but there you go... 

Maybe tomorrow somebody will know what has happened to my claim. Maybe tomorrow I will receive a reply that at least invites me to an interview, I've had far to few of those. Maybe tomorrow the clouds will have rained all they had and vanished to let me see the blue sky again. I will do all I can to chase them away. Tomorrow.    

 

Autumn Smells

And then sometimes when your body doesn't function properly, or rather has to fight off the alcohol you just drank and thus neglects your sense of balance, it sometimes heightens other senses. So there I was, I had had 3 pints, which is under normal circumstances not terribly much for me, but that day it hit me so that I couldn't even finish the last pint. On the bus back home I started getting really dizzy, very uncomfortably dizzy indeed, so that I decided to get out at Newington Green and walk the alcohol off. And even though I was tired and just wanted my bed, the hour it took me to get home from there was a really nice experience. Strangely enough.

See, either it was the lateness of the evening and fewer cars around that could dilute the smell, or just my body focussing more on smell since other functions were a little impaired, I am not sure. But on the way, on this slightly damp autumn night, I had to pass three parks, and I vividly remember the beautiful smell. 

This is autumn, this is how autumn smells. Like damp brown leaves, like wet earth, like the coming of rain and storm on a green lawn... There is still some life in this smell, other than the somewhat dry winter smell where you can smell nothing green, nothing alive. And it is yet warm enough to carry well through the air, together with the drizzle that seems to be settling in for the season. This is the smell that brings back images of red and yellow leaves on a tree being shaken about by the wind; of fighting against the blow of the wind while walking in the storm, huddled up in a big warm jacket and a scarf that is whipping the air behind you; of the hot tea waiting at home and the amazing feeling when you settle back down into the warmth...

So, I guess it is not always bad to feel drunk and dizzy, if it helps to notice some of the beauty around us. To an extent...