Longing for warm summer air

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Sometimes, I feel as though nothing can come from chasing what’s beautiful in this world.

I somehow came to imagine rural Japan in the summer heat, although from my point of view, I was in the shade. The air was warm enough to be uncomfortable though. I saw sun-baked concrete, paint chipping off the pillars that held up the roof of the train platform I was on. Then I was on the side of a road in town, lush, foreign greenery just down the street; the pavement, drying off after a humid night.

And I thought to myself, ‘If I was there, would I even have the capability to enjoy it to its fullest?’ The wonders of any place are so infinite that I think I could stand anywhere and never get tired of the things happening around me. But if they’re infinite, then I’m left feeling as though I could have more at any single moment than I am currently blessed to have. I lust after more of the greatness I have experienced.

But that might just be how I feel right now. In the moment, it’s easier to get distracted, or to be overwhelmed by what my senses pick up. These fears are probably just due to the feeling of wanting to be there, in the places I imagine, senses overloaded. Yet I’m here in my bedroom, in the half-light of the morning, and this is how I feel.

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