Dreams

Dreams are like the stars in the sky. That which once guided us, its ancient light never ceases to die. That's why people dream, a relic that we've never really forgotten. Whether it comes through ambitions, daydreams, anxiety, and even joy, we are inherently all dreamers.

Currently communing with an unfamiliar computer up on 10th floor of what seems like a random building in Osaka, the timeclock beside the computer ticks down. 100 yen per 15 minutes; money I've got. But time? Not much at the moment. This journey. All the people I've met so far, all the help I've got, and all the awkwardness through the language barrier. I feel as though it all seems like an accident that was waiting to happen until I experienced it myself. Like an empty vessel, holding no value, chance in itself is meaningless. But await the experience to metamorphosize into something else, then it becomes whole.

One Korean writer, whose name I forget, once wrote that people who travel alone are either philosophers or writers. I wish I could converse my opinion and add one more on the list. Plus one for photographers, because I don't consider myself as a philosopher nor a writer. And the only next thing that makes sense is for the sake of photography. In 10 days, I'm Seoul-bound and till then it's the Tsukiji fish market, Awaji island, Hiroshima, and more. But for tonight, it's 'Oyasuminasai'.