it was that dream i had 23 years ago.

where marshmallows gravitated towards the earth only to cover it in a sweet and sticky blanket.

where footprints of light blue led weary bodies back to the beginning.

where emptied streets echoed sounds of a million more.

where hearts fall.

where darkness falls.

where life becomes breathe.

where hope is locked away.

we find solace in knowing that this is not a dream.

that this is not what we had wished for.

upon moonbeams that emitted from our toes and our fingertips.

where the voices in our heads could never communicate.

it was the a milky way rollercoaster that got us here.

and the candlelit hour of night that made the sun rise the next day.

blistex and lottery tickets galore.

when will i be able to come home.

the incandescent glow of the night light that hangs continuously over the stack of books on my desk brings back the flood of memories i was hoping to suppress for just one more month. i had spam and rice tonight (last night too). it was reminiscent of those family times i now am longing for. i'm still in the process of letting go. maybe not letting go, but learning to move on with life. my family will always be there. no doubt. but it's only me sitting at the dinner table with the hashi in one hand and my civil procedures supplement in the other. the late night discussions of our family's future at the table is now conducted over skype. the laughter is nonexistent. silence has filled the void. the sound of the voice in my head telling me to keep moving forward and not to look behind. the days of childhood have passed and my hand must keep steady as it opens the door of tomorrow.

i've been craving japanese food. there isn't any around here. i traveled 5 miles to attempt to go to a really expensive restaurant at farragut north the other day to find that it was closed on sundays. a familiar tale of working with the letdowns that never quite seem to let up. i was hoping for just a small taste of tonkatsu or a medium size bowl of udon. that would've revived the spirit of a man nearly broken. well, i guess spam will have to do.