Lately I've been having these perfect moments at night, usually coming home from Osaka or somewhere. I don't know how to describe these little episodes except to say that at the time they feel perfect. Not good, not bad, but something inside recognizes this moment, sees it from far away maybe, and knows it's the right thing at the right time. Like when you see a bunch of birds on a wire and suddenly they all take off.

Like the other night walking home after going to some bar and I had to babysit these drunk... friends. I was depressed and it started to rain. The streets were empty. It was late at night. I played a random song on my ipod and it was Willie Nelson singing "Georgia" and I started singing to myself as I walked through the park. Two lovers were knotted together on a covered bench. They never looked up.

Tonight on the train coming home, a woman and her children sat across the aisle from me in a booth. Her young son sat on the floor crying as passengers stepped over and shuffled around him. Exasperated the mother scolded her son as I watched. And just at that moment between scolding and not scolding she looked up. And for just that moment her feelings towards her son jumped like a spark to me. And for just that second I felt maybe like her son; ashamed and chastened. It was a strange kind of door that had opened. I looked away.