I don't like diary writing in retrospect, so any pieces of Japan left over are going to rest here.

E & I were playing a game where we described each other. She said that I was very anxious, but that it was internalized and no one could see it on me & then we got interrupted & when her sister wanted to play, I giggled and said that E was gonna call her anxious & complicated like me, till E went on in this quiet voice & said I was very “gentle,” so gentle that I wouldn’t hurt bugs, and this is why kids like me so much, because they know people and know I’m good, and over our late night ramen I wasn’t sure what to say, till I told her that she’s the reason I try to do my best in school now, and that if I hadn’t met her I wouldn’t have the grades that I do, and that when I want to give up I try to think of what she would do, and that I tell myself to be like her.


When I got to Kyoto, I was so excited to look around & didn’t want to wait an hour or so to drop my backpack off at my hostel, so I took it up to Fushimi Inari with me. Quickly, I became so annoyed with how congested with people the shrine was, and all of the cameras, that I stomped off onto this empty bamboo hiking path. Maybe it’s ‘cause it was hot, maybe it’s ‘cause I brought a backpack with me, but that walk was one of the most arduous of my life. I reached this point that said something along the lines of “warning, steep path,” and God, it was so steep that I had to use my hands as I went up. Anytime I told someone about it afterwards all I could do was giggle, because of how ridiculous it was. When I made it to the top, I limped back down because of how badly my legs hurt. I limped for a few days actually, but it’s alright. In a way, Fushimi Inari wasn’t what I wanted because the presence of so many people stripped it of a sense of religiosity for me, but once I got towards the top & walked back down, through the torii gates I mean, not the trail, some areas were completely empty except for me. This emptiness in contrast to the peopled-ness felt odd to me, but I think most meaning came from the fact that my hike up was so difficult. If it was easy for me, I don’t know if it would have meant anything. Even though my legs hurt for days afterwards, when I’d limp up and down staircases, I’d think of Fushimi Inari & it’d make me happy.

I made my birthday wish up on that mountain, on its peak I mean, and on the way down through the gates. I asked for “the courage or the discipline to live the life that I want.”


I saw a little bit of Mt. Fuji two or three times just riding in the car around E’s house. Didn’t bother trying to get a picture; That small view of Mt. Fuji was just for me.


E & I pedaled this boat in Ueno park. I wanted to be lazy about it & just pedal into the middle of the pond, but she was really intense about it. My legs hurt afterwards. Her sister & her friend M—u pointed out afterwards that from their boat we seemed to be really into it. I hit my head as I stepped out of the boat. The whole thing reminded me of this swan boat in Oregon when I was sixteen.