To the crowd of Japanese youth making their way through the busiest train station in the world, the foreigner wearing two backpacks and peering over the top of a large cardboard box in his arms was just another obstacle. After steering clear of him and being herded past signs and advertisements and gates, the train they would catch would offer no respite from the crowds, it would simply confine them to an even smaller environment. There they would make the most of the little space around them to wave their fans with their wrists, and the brightly lit train cars would experience the rare sound of excited voices. Perhaps some are cursing their luck that their daily commute is forcing them to experience the full brunt of traffic to be expected for an event the magnitude of tonight’s, but most are here voluntarily. They represent the past and present of Japanese fashion — some costumed in traditional summer yukata, but most wear designer clothing, sweaty t-shirts: western clothes, though that distinction is gradually losing its meaning. They are on their way to the Sumida fireworks festival, named for that river in the traditional district of Tokyo where it takes place.

I remembered one year ago, when I walked downstream from this crowd instead of against them. At the time, I was a student at a Japanese language school meeting a fellow student at Asakusa station to view the fireworks. I was in the middle of my first semester at the school, with the remains of the year to enjoy my experience in Japan before I would return to my hometown for Christmas and to finish my last semester of college. There was the carefree feeling that being a student allows, where the most taxing worries involve tests and teachers and crushes. Thinking about life after college is easily postponed thanks to the knowledge that for the foreseeable future there is nothing but time. I had even more luxury because I had already planned out my future, and was resolute on my decision. And though I certainly had friends in my hometown whom I regretted not being able to include in these plans, I assured myself that moving to Japan after college is ultimately an easy decision if rationality were to be applied.

Walking down the streets of Shinjuku, cursing the delivery company at the airport for not being able to ship my computer directly to my guesthouse, and putting my now-sweaty, 45 pound box down for the fifth time since escaping the station, I predictably found myself missing my friends. I scanned the passing crowds, knowing that this traffic would ultimately not bring a single one of them were I to wait all month. The faces were unfriendly, dismissive, judging. Not unlike the faces I saw while beginning college. The task now, like it was then, was to start again. And although the emotional baggage make this clumsy cardboard box seem light as air, I have universal praise and excitement about my decision from friends and family propelling me onward. For now, I have to take their words for it.

Attempting to drag all this luggage through a number of subways would be a terrible experience, even if the subways weren’t uncommonly busy tonight. That was my justification for hailing a taxi after checking in with the Sakura House headquarters and setting off to find my actual room. Peering out the rear window, we passed a number of sights that I remembered seeing when I was a student. The bookstore I frequented while studying for the Japanese proficiency test. The movie theater where I finally caved and decided to see Harry Potter. The subway exit I would come out of every school day. In lieu of being home, at least this area was familiar. But as the taxi sped through the labyrinthine and dark streets of Tokyo, even that familiarity began to fade. I was dropped off on a street that looked like every other street, told the general direction that my guesthouse would be, and watched the taxi pull back into the flow of traffic. I consulted my hastily-folded and soggy map once more, strapped on my backpacks, picked up my box again, and walked into the darkness.

For now, I’ve got some work to do. I fulfilled my major goal that I made during junior high: find a job that I enjoy doing. I’m all too conscious of the harm that a job that one dreads going to every day can do to even the most idealistic person after college, this from my many 20-something friends I kept in contact with on the internet while I was a teenager. But rather than being content with achieving my goal, I recognize that now is the time to create new goals so that the months do not become years and I find myself unintentionally settled down and stagnant. This isn’t a tale of cutthroat ambition, but of creative expression. This blog being one part of a larger plan.

I intend to keep this blog updated with entries, pictures and video to record my experiences. The plan is that if my experiences become boring, than so will this blog. In a way, this is keeping me honest and preventing me from falling into a cycle. I won’t blame readers for losing interest, but will see it as a sign to re-evaluate what I’m doing and to seek out something unfamiliar. I also see this blog as a way of keeping my skills updated. As writing, photography and videography are all integral to what I intend to do in life, by using these skills as the primary medium of this blog I hope the experience will transfer to larger projects, which I also intend to pursue. The flip-side of this plan is that coming across as narcissistic is probably impossible to avoid. After all, anybody who creates a website of his own and constantly broadcasts the events of his own life would not do so unless they felt like their daily going-ons were worth other people’s time to read. Rather than apologize for this after every entry, I’ll just mention that I’m primarily doing this for myself, with the bonus that this blog can double as a convenient way to keep my family and friends updated on my life. So though my entries (which will probably fall into the trap of feeling pompous until I can learn to write more naturally) and video will no doubt be centered on my subjective experience, I hope that some value can still be found in them to those interested in life in Japan or any other themes I may touch on.

I arrived on a Saturday afternoon and work on a Monday morning.