A painting of me

The Space Between Us and the Ground Below Us, or: Why I Traveled to Japan. ⇒

   7 March 2018, late morning

I tried to relax. I thought of the upcoming festival. I thought of how you can spend your whole life wanting something, just to freeze up when you finally get it. On this island, I was an obvious outsider; I clearly didn’t belong. Every (heavenly) bowl of ramen burnt the hell out of my throat. But I could ask a cop for directions and I knew he wouldn’t blow me away.

This article is amazing, and not what I expected it to be at all. A Black gay American writes about his travels in Japan.

This is a post from my link log: If you click the title of this post you will be taken the web page I am discussing.

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