The Daily Life

Anybody who studies much about Japan should learn the word hikikomoru. It means to stay in your room for long periods of time, shutting out the rest of the world. People who do this are called hikikomori, the noun form of the original verb. True hikikomori are people who may spend up to years at a time in their own room. Recently, I've been a bit of a hikikomori. Readers who know me will also know that I've had periods like this wherever I've lived, it's just a sort of time for me to do some house-cleaning, both literally, and in terms of my thinking. I've been taking some time to focus on my own mind and reorient myself. Being in Japan is good, or any new place, because it allows me to mostly escape the sort of shackles of identity that I've created over time with people who know me. In a sense, I get to recast who I am, and nobody around here knows me as anything different.

Unfortunately, that is not entirely the case. The trappings, the old pieces of me that I'd like to forget, those are still sitting around in my brain, obsolete and gigantic and undeniable. Basically, those issues are the things I need to work on, ways that my thinking has gone wrong. I endeavour in all things to make myself a better person, but it has become woefully apparent to me that I have taken a step backwards. Recently, I've been a hikikomori because I have felt paralyzed to do anything else. My spirit of adventure hasn't diminished, just I don't feel up to anything.

I know this is just a personal issue. I have been very unhappy with myself for the past two weeks, but I will rework myself. I look at my life as the ceaseless unravelling and rebuilding of mind and thought. Now is a time for me to rebuild. I will make myself stronger, better, and healthier before facing the world again. However, these periods of intense introspection are often times when I explore myself through writing and, as such, I will not be posting those writings here, simply because they are explorations of myself, and do not relate to Japan, technology, or events outside, except obliquely. Therefore, I invite anybody who wishes to explore this process to take a look at my Killing Machine blog, something I started more out of the base urge to express myself than to comment meaningfully on any outside stimulus. See you there.

Combination of Awesome Explosion Special!

The past few weeks have been tough times for me. First, I basically lose a job because it actually turns out I didn't graduate from my university somehow, then I realize I don't have a table and that's why using my computer has been TOTALLY SUCKY, and then I get really hungry. Faced with such difficult circumstances, perhaps a weaker-willed man would've simply given up, thrown their proverbial hands to the proverbial sky, and resigned themselves to the unemployment, back-pain, and slow death from hunger that awaited them. Not I. I'm made of sterner stuff.

Lacking any immediate solution to not having a degree, and hence being ineligible for a work visa in Japan, I decided to sort out the desk problem first. My reasoning was that if I could use my computer comfortably, the internet would surely bless me with an answer! Immediately, I set to work:


Obviously this is the most kick-ass table ever. Patting myself on the back after a hard afternoon's work, I headed out to address the hunger issue. I found a nice little curry place, and proceeded to do what I do. Sated, I went to leave the store, but was stopped by one of the workers. What was this? A gift? For me? Why yes, I'll take this rape whistle, sir, and by god I WILL LOVE IT.


Having accepted this totally sweet rape whistle extended to me as a gift by the natives of this wonderful land, I made my way home, mind awash in a rare abundance of nutrients. Of course, when I got home the desk totally collapsed, but fuck it, I bought a real one. Oh and I still didn't get a degree or a job. The End.