Oh how I’ve missed you, Osaka
Osaka Travel Blog› entry 85 of 93 › view all entries
August 22nd, 2008 – by: skitzcw
This would be my last week of a laundry list of luxuries. Every moment needed to be embraced and enjoyed before returning to a routine lacking cute Japanese girls and a ridiculous number of vending machines.
I visited the lab to see some familiarity. Kadiru had taken my seat, and the name “new Clemens” after I had left. Everything looked the same. I don’t know why I expected such a huge transformation; it had only been 3 weeks. It felt like the beginning of the trip again. There was lively conversation and I shared a lot of the pictures I had taken from Mt. Fuji. Friends were not so impressed by the 6,000 pictures I took in 3 weeks, but rather shook their heads with a light dismissal of a recognized addiction.
I guess someone could easily spot the photographer in me (I didn’t actually eat one) if they observed me for one day. Every meal, situation, event, object, incident, occasion, or occurrence (I know most of those are synonyms) was recorded. If three camera angles weren’t enough to tell the whole story, my soul stealing notepad would always clear things up. Clearly, this was an indication of my problem. It was an itch I couldn’t stop scratching. Every other thought involved capturing the previous one in order to post it in a blog the next day. It had taken control of my life. My world revolved around writing about my world revolving around writing. The recursion confused me, but yet I kept writing in circles.
I had lost all hope as I drowned in a sea of literary amusement. Unfortunately for me, there was no easy cure. There was no 12-step program where I could succumb to some religious salvation. I needed to do this by myself and with my own willpower. I started drinking to keep my mind from focusing on remembering every detail. The steady buzz throughout the night left me social and consumed in sharing my opinions with other people. I didn’t have the time to sit at home and write. There weren’t enough sober hours in the day.
I would like to think I’ve recovered from this, but I often have nightmares where I just can’t stop writing in that notepad. The camera grows arms and chokes me while blinding me with the flash. Oh, the humanity… Luckily, my friends, black and tan, are not far away to cure my obsession. Sure, you may say “it’s not healthy to cure an obsession (in this case, photography) by introducing an addiction (in this case, alcohol) to solve your problems.” Well to that I say, umm… that’s a good point.
~See Lemons Just Chill
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