Maybe it's because I just finished "The Fortress of solitude" by Jonathan Lethem, maybe it's because my journey is coming to an end soon as I'm back to Tokyo, a couple of days before taking the plane to Paris, maybe it's because of all the intense emotions I've experienced in the past 3 weeks, maybe it's because it's in the nature of the travel - a mixture of cinematographic images, clichés of nostalgic dreams and physical exiled exhaustions - but I can't help my melancholy.
Whether my mind is set in 70s Brooklyn, NY where a friendship between a white kid and a black kid seems to have to be doomed, or in nowadays Tokyo, Japan, where I'm floating in a transitional reality, I get a glimpse of the beauty of love, and of kindness, made out of past and present bonds.
15 August 2007
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