God, how life gets the last laugh.  Always.
In 6th grade, my friend and I were convinced we’d be hung in the South so no way would I ever go there.  And I sure as fuck wouldn’t live in Japan— my homeland— because as if I could survive in such a conformist land.
Nuh-uh.
I grew up mostly in the ‘burbs of Orange fucking County and didn’t fit in so well as queer creatives don’t fit in so well in any damned suburb.  NYC was awesome; it’s the one place that felt like home in that the thought of dying in NYC didn’t depress me.  It was a short-lived 5-year stint then off to Memphis, TN where I had over a decade of an American learning experience.  Memphis will always have a soft spot in my heart as it’s where I’ve encountered the most ignorant and hateful people as well as the nearest and dearest to my heart.  It’s got a deep and complex soul with the best soundtrack in the world; such (drunk)love and heartbreak in this curious rock n’ roll town.
And now…Tokyo.  Back to my homeland where I learn still more in spite of it being so xenophobic and seemingly modern.  Don’t be fooled, it ain’t so Blade Runner if you’ve spent any significant time here.  I don’t love it but I am and will be forever grateful for the beautiful people I meet all over this globe…the more I travel, the smaller it gets.

And love.
How different the loves are but the depth of joy, care, comfort, vulnerability and heartbreak remain steadily the same.
I believe in it.  And adventure.