Monthly Archive: December 2015

Woman with dark sun glasses in the rain


Winter has arrived once again here in Japan, almost. It’s getting colder. I ride my bicycle everywhere. Without it I couldn’t get to work. It’s a 50 minute ride. Maybe you know this already. The school year is over here. Unfortunately, it’s not quite over for me. I have to grade some exams but I was stuck home with my son because influenza, which is common here struck his class. So, Saturday and Sunday I’ll be grading tests.
Sometimes while riding to work I see scenes out of movies would make if I could but it’s very much reality. A young woman running across the street and then looking back at a man, presumably here lover. A woman wearing black sunglasses in the rain, standing on the corner with an umbrella. A woman wearing a white shirt and white pants and maybe she was waiting for a cab but out all of these people it’s the women, but I can’t forget the midget I see in a business suit. He looks like he is doing well.
A have a novel to finish and I’m in writers block and blog block and just block. I have to motivate myself and it’s hard. At one time it was my dream to be a famous writer. I’ve written several books but I don’t have an agent so I can’t get published. I have to self publish them. Some are stuck on computers that have crashed. What can I do? No matter what I have to keep writing.
Home looks crazy now. The world once again is obsessed with terrorism because of recent attacks in California and Paris. Thousands of people have died in all of the wars and bombing and blunder in the last two decades. Americans have short memories too. Who do we vote for? This is a white moment. I could say dark but I’ll just say a white moment because so many people seem to be blind to reality when we’ve never had so much access to information at our fingertips.
“The violence, the violence,” I think that is what Brando would say if he could look at the U.S. Here I am in a self imposed exile in Japan. As one year ends another begins but as always I wonder were is it all going. What is in store for us. No matter what I have to keep writing. It’s hard mainly because of trying to make peace with the past and with myself. The memories that creep up like steam from the sidewalk.