“It is a good viewpoint to see the world as a dream.
When you have a nightmare,
You will wake up and tell yourself that it was only a dream.
It is said the world we live in is not a bit different from this.”
- The Hagakure
I’m cleaning my room.
Boring in and of itself — just another routine I perform with a lackluster enthusiasm, stopping to check emails and responses and facebook chats and the like every five minutes. But only in cleaning did I realize I have one — approximately one of the shirts I moved out here with. I came with a suitcase full of suits and dress shirts and ties and manner of thing. Some were taken by women who just like wearing men’s shirts. Others got tore up in brawls. Others got simply lost in my endless move from place to place to place to new. Others, who knows? I live a life of fuming chaos, and everything is lost in the far reaches. I don’t even know where the shirt I’m wearing now came from. Perhaps I bought it — perhaps I stole it — perhaps it was a gift. It’s not the one survivor I have, either — it’s somebody new. We are not possessions, or the things they carry with us in life, but they are our surroundings.
And another word for surroundings is trappings.
Even in this tiny hotel room, I can hear everything outside.