Melding

It's always a strange thing, how stories seem to resonate with one another when you read them in succession.  I wonder sometimes if this represents the interrelatedness of everything or if my brain isn't always trying to make such connections.  I like to tie a red string to the first text I ever read and weave it through all experiences until I'm done reading forever.  Does this happen to other people?

Today I am overwhelmed by the man I sat next to on the train in Tokyo.  I think it was on the trip to the trash island to fix something on my visa at the embassy.  The old man who was Japanese and spoke English with a German accent.  He said he was stationed there during the war.  We didn't go into more detail about those particulars.

I think I wrote about it, but I can't find the story.  I would have put it here, I think, but it doesn't show when I search.

He wore a grey bowler hat. He wore an old suit.  His shoes were scuffed.

I read about the cat temple in Asakusa and want to return.  All those lovely cats, fat and smoothed through grooming.  Why weren't they fixed though?

I read about panopticons and think of the path of least surveillance.  How are we to avoid being captured by the all seeing I?

I read about pills and wonder about the aesthetics of the many pills I take each day.  Do they make my insides rainbowed?

Everything feels so connected always.  I'm going to learn that by thanking others, I acknowledge myself.