-^-for posterity-^-

and then there was japan.

i landed and it was raining. it was miserable. i stumbled off of the plane and walked towards customs. because i was going to stay for 12 hours, i was looking to find a transfer visa and then a bus to the hotel the airlines had booked for me for the day.

i asked people where to go. they smiled and pointed me in the right direction. i went through security. at the end the security guard said i was in the wrong place. i went through the temporary visa section. at the end the lady told me i was in the wrong place. i went through the another visa line and eventually made it out of the airport after two hours of haste.

i waited for the bus in a small box painted on the sidewalk next to a giant sign that said '25'. there were upwards of 30 some busses that took people to different hotels and everyone stood in painted boxes. there were signs that said, 'NO HAWKING OR CALLING TO TAXI CARS. IF YOU HAWK OR CALL TO TAXI YOU WILL BE FINED.'

i fell asleep in the hotel room after setting the alarm next to the bed. the alarm didn't wake me up and i ended getting up one hour before the boarding of my plane. i panicked. i ran out of the room, forgot some of my clothes and hawked and called for a taxi. i boarded the plane shaking, minutes before it took off.

12 hours in one chair is ridiculous. there are only so many positions you can sit in.

i arrived in new york. i slowly made my way through customs and found myself facing a long, empty hallway. there were no more inspections and i was free to leave. i walked down the hall slowly, not knowing what to expect. i turned a corner and could see a mass of people gathered outside of a giant glass wall. i scanned the audience and found my parents standing next to the railing. my father was taking pictures. my mother was smiling and my brother's eyes were beautiful and huge. i ran to meet them and we hugged. we stood there and i didn't cry.

we eventually found out way out of new york city and drove down giant roads full of giant cars and trucks arriving home late at night. everything was fine and i felt normal.

i walked in the house. i walked up the steps. i was walking into a museum of my previous life. i was walking into a world that had remained silent in the back of my memory for the last two years. i walked into this peaceful place and was bombarded by memories. there were pictures everywhere. i walked into my room. there were books everywhere. each book brought back the memory of reading it. each picture on the wall brought back the event. there was just too much. i didn't have any idea how to take it all in.

i laid down on my old bed and cried into the pillow. i remember saying, 'i just don't know where i am', over and over again.

in a way, i'm just pathetic. inside, i'm just tired.