The gray of Tokyo...

On the flipside of the general convenience and responsibility-free lifestyle of the Tokyo ex-pat lurks a certain piece of soul that one gives up to live such a carefree existence. Like sides of an equation, they cancel each other out, leaving nothing but an intangible representation of the giving and taking of ... time, money, quality of life, self...

Tokyo has a pulse, but the spirit of it was lost ages ago. Perhaps it was swallowed up by a tsunami and carried out to sea where some lucky kamisama greedily snatched it for herself. Or maybe it's buried somewhere beneath the concrete ground and, with a quake here and there, musters its last bit of strength to try and tell everyone it's still there.

I don't know where Tokyo gets its power-- enough to bring strong people to their knees and make weak people think they're strong. The pace of life rushes on, pushing you to work harder and longer, party harder and longer, and drink more faster so that when your body breaks, all you can do is sleep, sparing yourself from having to think about where your life has gone. Finally, when a moment's peace does come, one can't help but wonder if it's really peace or just filler until the last train.

Tokyo can build you-- open your eyes to the world and all of its many people. It can show you success, happiness, even love. It can fulfill dreams, and it can help you find what you want and don't want. But let's not forget for a moment that this city can break you, too. And it's not because you're weak. It's because you're human. And even humans in Tokyo are entitled to some rest and peace.