Clockwork
From the second day on, the weather had been impeccable. Not a cloud hung in the sky. The cold air was a refreshing chill that learnt to behave and never went too far. Not to mention the blanket of soothing sunlight that brought a crisp clear clarity to all that met the eye for miles on end. Easily the best spring known to me.
Having been drowning in a stagnant pond in a forgotten corner of a shady swamp for as long as time could care to remember, the sudden awe of seeing vibrant light was hard to put into words. Even though the contrast inevitably reminds you of what a shithole of predicament you’re destined to, it somehow allowed a shimmer of optimism to permeate the carcass. Given great will, a common conviction and meticulous amount of careful planning and organization, the world could be such a better place with things working right more often and life smoother for everyone.
This remains a place where such marvel is the order of the day, where countless effort and time are being devoted to the elimination of errors and uncertainties. Where sometimes you get the illusion of being engulfed in a sea of thoughfulness, excellence and selflessness. Where each and every person seemingly have a firm grasp of his or her place, and dutily feels respectful and proud towards it. There aren’t a lot of places in the world where men are able to overcome their deficiencies and work wholeheartedly towards a common good – from the station officer bowing and thanking every passenger passing through the gate, to the way flocks of salaryman in black suit uniforms marching on and off the morning commune flight in harmony, to rail attendents doing their greeting gestures when absolutely no-one was watching…no doubt it is the dedication and common respect that makes everything runs like clockwork in this miraculous country that is Japan.

Poster of Fringe at the subway. Even Amy Torv's features look sharper and hair flows smoother in Japan.
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