fragments

It is in this state of nothingness that I like to type. Nights like tonight when tasks take longer than I expected them to, leaving me tired, so tired. The black tea with bubbles I had was not very good but it was good to meet with my friends and playing cards and talking about random nothings that seem to lead back to what we really want in life. What do you really want? My friend asked me. I want to move out, I said. I want to have my own place. I want to live in Vancouver. Something like that.

I have never been late for a class before but this afternoon the highway was busy and I had the kids wait for me outside the classroom for ten minutes. It felt odd.

This morning I started thinking about my days in Fukuoka and the many tiny shops near Takamiya Station. It will all come back in my writing here and there, I said to myself. I believe so. If I record every bit of thought and the images that come with these thoughts and the meaning, layers of meaning, that come with these thoughts… if I record all of them… it becomes kaleidoscopic. This is why I believe in the short story. I believe in fragments and the power within these fragments and the little moments of discovery in these fragments.