Memories of a Younger Era — Tokyo Hiroshima Kyoto

Memories of Japan are easy to get lost in, the time period was often a blur. Capsule hotels, bullet trains, insomnia, and several neuro-cognitive mods offering symbiotic boosts to perception. Stimulated by a then-unknown cranial passenger, a surging PRL level resulted, HPG-axis thrown off course, thyroid blasting T3 in feedback-loop, resulting metabolic rate sky high.

In personable social terms, an immediate realization dawned upon landing, that so many people seem to love tall western women, to be quite vocal in appreciation and awareness, and what little Japanese I had memorized repeatedly informed to whom they were certainly referring. I've never felt tall until someone brings it up, but that all goes back to teenage years when plasma levels of recombinant-hGH were too low, then boosted too high. Short torso, long legs, and that's just fine.

Those months that summer were memories of a pure, simple existence, the joy of living in a beautiful foreign land with a wonderfully kind culture; one where I could not read a single sign, nor understand more than several helpful conversational phrases. A stranger in a strange land. A summer of intense philosophical reassessment, of isolationist meditation, with the majority of months spent traveling alone through four countries across two hemispheres. Circa 2017 feels so far away.

Perhaps more travel photos will follow. I'm in a reflective mood today. 🩷

#travel #photography #memories