Kyoto - Free-Roam - Day 3

Early Piece

Today we split up into small groups, everyone does their own thing, spontaneous arrangements. I choose a nice breakfast place near the river. I hadn't anticipated how good the restaurant would be. In every aspect, from the ambiance to the service to the food.

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐- Anytime again!

After breakfast, we continue. I lead us along the riverbank. I notice that all the rivers and their banks are wide and spacious here. It seems that people here know how to live in harmony with nature.
We see large stones in the river, a child crosses the river. The child is obviously having fun. I could also joyfully hop from one stone to another across the river like a child. I could, if I wanted to. But I decide against it. Instead, I walk across as fast as I can. It's more fun. :)

We continue through small side streets. Even in the most unusual places and lanes, we find shrines. And temples. 'Look, there's a temple!' will become a running gag for the day, temples and shrines are found on every other corner in Kyoto. Just like old but functioning coin-operated telephones.

The Important Questions

We continue to wander, enjoy the weather, and chat. The topics of conversation are as diverse as the offerings of the food market passage around the corner, which we constantly pass through.
I am asked about relationships. I listen to the story of the recently deceased mother and the absent father. And the parallels with the ex. Someone has collected a whole quiver of red flags and is waving them conspicuously. 🚩🚩🚩🚩🚩 Poor guy who will ignore them. But I feel sorry for her too.

I dare to try something new for myself.
'What are you offering?', I ask, after the topic 'What are you looking for?' has been discussed enough.
I know it's an unpopular and rare question, with the potential to 'hit someone in the face'. Says a part of me. The part that protects my inner child from rejection or pain, the part that is doing something for the first time and therefore couldn't gain any experience in it. The part that doesn't know what will happen. Whether it will be good. But then one of my mantras comes up:
'Will I regret it in 10 years?'
Basically, I always answer: 'Nope! Fuck it! Just do it!'

The question is asked, and there is a certain surprise noticeable. I wanted to know how someone reacts to such a direct question. Are people aware of their qualities? How grateful are others in their lives? How much do people settle for in their own lives.
You have the choice. Either you repair the watering can of your personality, or you will always have to clean up after every interaction with your environment so that you don't leave any cloudy limescale stains in the long run.
I unintentionally think back to my Calvin & Hobbes postcard, which greets me daily in the entrance area.

She starts to list them. The list is short and not particularly impressive, even though being impressed wasn't my goal. A short list couldn't be a topic if it's balanced with 'What are you looking for?'. But it doesn't seem that way to me.

I wonder where this imbalance lies in general. As I ponder, I see her swiping on her phone.
I constantly see her on her phone, the Instagram symbol always present. Some messenger is almost always there. I catch glimpses of her checking her own timeline, searching for the next acknowledgment through likes and comments. There are no selfies or photos of her, just snapshots hastily taken between the curb and the pedestrian crossing. In my eyes, a small tick of narcissism wouldn't be bad. Not the kind of 'my painted face is on every picture' narcissism. But rather this 'I love myself without needing to be the center of the world' self-love.
Can I completely free myself from dopamine addiction? Nope.
Is it up to me to judge it? Nope. It doesn't concern me.
I just notice that it makes me a little sad to see someone who is trapped in a whirlpool of neurotransmitter control in search of recognition and acceptance. Once again, I thank myself for deleting Facebook years ago and kicking Instagram in the ass again.

We walk through a park. When I look to the right, I decide to cut off the conversation here. I'm not here to play savior. I now have a pretty good sense of where I can help someone and offer myself, and where some people just want to wallow in their own misery. I've played the savior too many times and ignored myself because deep down, I also wanted to be saved from something. But helping others always seems more attractive than being helped. Dogs come to mind. Most owners would do anything for their pets. More than for themselves. More than would be good. I see purse dogs in my mind's eye, while the owners take the elevator for two floors.

I push her to the cash register of the horror labyrinth and simply have fun in the here and now. 

My Neighbor Tristan

I find him first. Long, thinning hair, wiry, lying on the bed. I had noticed him already, down in the lobby. Noticed him in a 'Who's that guy?' kind of way. I try to have a little conversation, but I immediately sense that we don't resonate. He's from the East Coast of the USA, 22 years old. I think about my first encounter with Charles. Also from the USA, also 22 years old, but instantly likable. Wearing masks all the time doesn't necessarily help with connecting.

On the day of our check-out in Kyoto, I find him lying on the bed, playing on his phone as I enter the room.
With a mask on. Alone. With the air conditioning turned off and the window closed. The gremlin in me raises its finger, takes a breath, and wants to start another aimless discussion with myself, which I have already had often enough. Just to keep my mind running. I politely decline and treat him to a matcha latte as compensation. Today in grande size, because I will see this mask for a while.