31. 3/17/14: Night at the Park Hyatt (Lost in Translation Hotel)
Tokyo is filled with never-ending noises and beeps, sounds of babies crying and people talking. The air is full, heavy with people and the things that fall from their mouths. Kotoba. Words.
In this bustling environment, surprisingly, it's so easy to feel alone. Suspended between silence on the trains and the chaos on the streets. Avoiding the eyes of strangers and hearing snippets of conversation where you don't belong. Seeing families, people, wondering what their life is like. Are they shopping? Are they visiting? What do they call home?
Hanging several hundred feet over the bustle in a hotel room, seeing cars looking like toys and people barely visible, there was an odd sense of serenity. Peace. Thousands of people. All with a place to be and somewhere to go. Forward.
If you've ever seen Lost in Translation, maybe you'll understand what I mean. That gap between cultures, the inability to communicate fully in a strange place. That sense of being surrounded and yet feeling so alone.
I went to the New York Bar. A jazz band was playing and the lead singer had pretty good english. I ordered something with grapefruit, I can't remember, and looked out at the view.
Then I went back to my room and had a bubble bath. My father was already asleep. But I stayed up a little while longer, watching the lights glow from SkyTree.