It’s weird that other people exist
It’s weird to think that Japan exists right now and the people are still doing the things they’d normally do even though I’m not there.
They’re asleep right now in their little beds— some might be awake right now looking at the sky thinking the same thoughts about me in my country and what I’m up to.
At night before I fall asleep I’ll try to remotely view the places I remember having been. A little bench in Cusco, a quiet cemetery in Tokyo. First I imagine myself in the environment that I remember, then I imagine what it looks like right now, in the darkness with no one around.
Remote viewing isn’t real, but it’s a fun mental escape.
The places I once visited continue to exist after I visit them.
In my self-centered world, the entire narrative revolves around me and my experiences and everything happening outside of my bubble is inconsequential.
The barista from this morning is still behind that counter doing whatever baristas do. I wonder where she’ll go and what will happen after she finishes her shift. What will be for dinner? What debts does she owe? What are her worries? Who cares? I’m sure no one else is wondering these questions about her.