Hello. Sorry, I am sort of a bit stuck for something to say. My stomach hurts. I have to get something to eat I think. I am hungry I think. Happiness. It is new years eve. I think.kkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk. Okay? Out of context, most of the things going on in this airports are pretty funny. The people on the intercom make little sex noises just before they switch off and the staff, or maybe just this one guy that I saw, he seemed to know what everyone's problem is, and how to solve it. A woman just came up to me to ask about deep vein thrombosis, or to ask me if I am worried about it. I am not worried about it. I was sat here reading my Japanese scripts book and I looked up and it seemed as though a lot of the people had left or were leaving. It would be funny if I was so absorbed by my book that I did not notice everyone just walking out, not because of an emergency, but just kind of dissapearing. I keep forgetting to listen to the announcements. It is so cold in the departure lounge. I am right by the wing! I do not know what to say. I keep worrying that I might say the wrong thing. As I was getting on the plane I could hear people saying greetings in Japanese but I did not recognise them. I thought that maybe there was a special greeting for planes. They were just saying konbanwa. Everyone seems a bit tense. They do not really, I am just imagining it on purpose because it is funny. I keep pretending that people have bombs. The plane is reversing. To be effective the seatbelt must be fastened tight and low. There is a camera on the front of the plane and they show you what the take off looks like. I am glad that it is dark. Up. I do not need to look out of the window anymore. There is a television, a screen, that is showing me what the ground loks like. It looks different on different screens, one of them is particularly yellow, which I think is better. 352 miles per hour. 2450m above sea level. Now I can see some towns or cities in Russia. Now they have gone. I accidentally had my eyes shut during the landing film. I met an old woman, I think her name was Audrey. Now I am waiting for the Narita Express to take me to Shinjuku Station. I am failing miserably at speaking Japanese. Free time. I am in my bedroom. Nobuko san is doing the washing up. The toilet fills up through a sink. I keep forgetting the Japanese words that I want to remember. Today is Saturday and we went out for a walk around Takahatafudo. I might walk down to the temple by myself, if I can remember the way and maybe just sit there thinking. It seems expensive. I knew that but. I remembered that the computer on the plane beat me at chess twice. I do not want to draw in this book. I do not want to draw, but if I do it will not be in this book. I am sat just outside a temple that is painted red an gold and green and white. It has five floors. It is amazing to look at. Someone just sneezed. I have never seen anything like it before, apart from this morning when I came with Mr. and Mrs. Kamisaku, but I could not write it down then, and it was hotter. It looks as though they paint it every morning, the colours are so perfect. I can hear a gong like drum being hit in another of the buildings over to the right. It just stopped. It just started again. This is where that intelligent and romantic vocabulary I have been dreaming of would come in handy. That way I would not feel bad about using the word 'perfect' or 'beautiful'. 'Amazing' got one strike but I might be able to use it to describe the beautiful pool of water that surrounds the temple or the perfect setting of the temple, between the forest and the city. I smile at people when they walk past but they do not return the smile. It might not be very noticeable. When I check my smile in the mirror it seems to be too subtle. I want to say "kon-ban wa!" but I would not do that to people on the street in England. There is a little brown dog over, that is now barking, and I would like to go over and say hello to it. I would like to write something about going to Japan and photography. The two things have become more important to me over the past few months and seem to have converged. "It is bad enough, when you are walking around this incredible temple, and all that you can think of is the lyrics to This Charming Man by The Smiths." Yesterday was all over Tokyo. Itis kind of dissapointing at the moment. I find myself remembering what I imagined it would be like. Also, how it was described to me. It is not really like that. The people were not how I was told and the atmosphere is not exciting or scary because of it. The people seem to be amused by tourists/westies and the busy streets are just busy streets. The sight seeing bus company is called Hato Bus. Hato is Japanese for pigeon. That was my first clue. I am learning more Japanese. I bought a small notepad - memo cho - to write things down in and as a reference. Nobuko has a small computer called an Ex-word for converting Japanese to English - a dictionary! Also, she is helping me more to learn things, teaching me how to say certain phrases. It is surprising how 'wrong' the books are. I suppose it is the same wrong as my imagination and people's advice. It is just their interpretation of the culture, mine is a cynical one. I wonder if I could fill this book with rambling nonsense. I wonder if anyone would read it. Good day. The bank would not let me have any money. Went to the 'Trick Art Museum' which showcased optical illusions, where the camera is king, hand-in-hand with his one-eyed queen. There goes the drum again. I am back at the temple. I climbed a mountain today, no. I walked down a mountain today. Yesterday I saw some monkeys in a big glass enclosure. Today I went to Tokyo. It was really horrible. I really dislike big cities like that. I have decided that a good word to describe them, London and Tokyo, is crushing. There are a variety of things that made the experience so negative and it helps me to realise that, as ever, my opinion is worthless because it is not the only one. Apart from that it was really, very hot, I felt quite uncomfortable all day. I was wearing my cowboy shirt, the one with the gold strands, and a light brown tie, contact lenses and my hair was pointing up. Nobody looked at me. I never realised how much I care about other people's attitude towards me before. I have always known that I am incredibly vein, but it has never really bothered me like this before. I kept thinking that people were laughing at me behind my back as they walked past and after a while I decided that I must have looked really stupid! I do not want to use 'really' again for a while. So, my cowboy shirt, the one with the gold strands, I bought it in Bath, I figured it must look really cool and different. When I folded it up and put it into my suitcase I imagined myself turning heads down some Tokyo high street. The third clothes shop that I walked into today had the better version of my shirt, my one does not have pearl buttons, and it was cheaper than mine, I nearly bought it. It was in this shop with two hundred other cowboy shirts, two hundred other complete wastes of time, including me, standing there like a prick, making sure that eveyone who, may or may not be, is not looking, can see that I know what they know by taking the shirt off the rack and chuckling to myself as I compare the fabrics. My one, with the horrible buttons is missing a button and has a rip on the elbow where I fell off my stupid fucking skateboard. I should (not finished)