It's hard to stay interested at work.

We're only allowed visiting Sony-related sites, and while The History of Sony could fill volumes, it's fairly dry, and not exactly entertaining. I've taken to keeping a webcam image open on my desktop, showing the neon and lights of Sony Headquarters and the night streets of Yurakucho, Tokyo.

There's something about the scene that really hits me. I'm not entirely sure how to describe the feeling, although the first word that comes to mind is nostalgia, regardless of the fact that I've never set foot in Japan.


Years ago, I visited Toronto for a concert, and it was then that I decided that I would live in that city, eventually. Standing on a roof deck, watching the skyscrapers, seeing the reflection of headlights on the wet streets; These things made me feel like there was so much more to the world than I was aware of, and I knew I would feel nothing butlonging until I had explored them.

When I went back to Ottawa, I felt as a lover returned to his wife with the smell of his mistress still on his skin.

In retrospect, I suppose it wasn't a decision at all.

Now, with the stress of unexpected money problems, and constant issues between roommates, it's hard to watch the world go by and feel the same wonder. It's there, under the surface, but the world is a dangerous place for fragile emotions right now.


With Jes in Ottawa for the last two weeks, I've had some time to think about my situation. As much as I'd like to think that I'm capable of thinking objectively, I don't feel that is truly the case. I need to be outside the situation to look at it, and gain anything from it. I need emotional distance.

Spending the holidays alone in a big house certainly sufficed.

There were no big discoveries, no revelations. Nothing. Only attention-starved cats and the sounds of floorboards settling.

It is important that I note this.