choices

She forgot something that happened.... a lapse in memory (she forgot to mention.) It's never happened to her, at least as far as she knows. She ate a bagel, went to sleep, and woke up in a different prefecture with no recollection of what happened in between. It was after the cherry blossom party where someone was playing a flute used in o-kagura. It was something out of a dream. . . a very beautiful dream.
She saw him out of the corner of her eye, fully knowing it was him, and she had no idea how to react. Actually just to be a few feet from him was pure bliss, and she looked up at the cherry blossoms and said nothing. He thought that she didn't remember him (or maybe he knew that she did and was just pretending), and called her name, hugging her. It was all so surreal.


How surreal are our lives, truly?


In the past few weeks, fate has been king in her life.


But how to handle her feelings about the other? She never thought life would come to this.

in transition

She sits once more type type typing in the room that's become so comfortable so familiar to her. Things, memories lying around in cardboard boxes in the room. Going back to the place where she started was maybe a strange choice, but once that seemed to be written in the stars. The work here is done.

Westward Ho!

time for a change

She sits in a completely different place, on a completely different island. The time has come for a change, that's unmistakable, but what the change will be is hard to say. Better to be in a safe place and healthy for the time being. She went to her favorite cake shop today, Sakaeya, and sipped coffee while looking out the window and writing down new vocabulary. 'Go back to being a student for a while,' a voice says, 'Learn as much as you can about your heart.'

what we really want.....

She's slightly sleepy but her mind is lucid. What we really want is a union with the divine. Everything else has no meaning, but in our search for that union, we make other things, other people important. Those things are decidedly not what we're after.

The blues. . .

She's felt slightly blue lately. . . not all the time, but sometimes when she's alone. What is the difference between solitude and lonliness? Maybe it's time to go to the oracle in Delphi and ask that question.

At the beginning of the year, all is new. . .

She sits thinking, typing, at night----not unusual for her, but rather rare these days, with little time to write and more time to just sit and ponder. What is it all about? Should writing take a first place among other things. Well, right now, friends come first. Friends and dreams.

The Visitor

And just who is "The Girl with No Name?" he asks, tilting his head to the left.
"Well, she is the one who remembers and tells the story of 'Peach and Plum.'
He is clearly thinking about something; a specific question, but for some reason, he doesn't ask. Instead, he takes off his coat.
"You have heard the story of 'Peach and Plum,' haven't you?" she asks.
He smiles. "You know that I haven't. The story isn't written down yet, right?"
She smiles shyly. "Yes, that's true."


Later on that night, after he's left, she sits down at her desk with a mug of chocolate peppermint flavored coffee, sent from the other side of the world.


"If I don't write this down, who will?" she types.