SAMPLE CHAPTER FOR STORYLINE #1
(CHAPTER 3)
Miyako arched her back slightly and pushed. After seven hours of labor, her long, brownish-black hair had become matted and soaked with perspiration, and her face displayed her total exhaustion. Despite the
tremendous exertion, Miyako fought on, breathing deeply and concentrating on the extraordinary movements in her lower half. This was her second time giving birth, and, in order to endure the rigors of the experience, she recalled the fifteen hours of determination that her first child had necessitated. Although she was focused emotionally and physically in the present, in the far reaches of her seemingly disembodied mind, her thoughts drifted to images of her first son. Since that wonderful day of his birth, she cherished her little boy and had given him as much love as she possibly could.
However, Miyako had had her doubts and worries about motherhood from
the time she first became pregnant. Yet, through the magical process of bringing life into the world, she had been transformed: her elation continued to inspire her each and every day in her new incarnation as a mother. There had been difficulties at first, though. Her son was born a strong, cheerful infant, but he was physically unusual. His appearance was not hideous or threatening in any way, but rather, slightly abnormal: the face, in particular, seemed to be a strange amalgam of shapes and angles, although it was anatomically complete. Regardless of his outward appearance, though, he had suckled at her breast and soon became a robust young boy.
Throughout his young life, Miyako and her husband, Bernard, had
noticed that their child was unlike others, but their love and guidance had sheltered him from any negativity. Despite their initial joy, they wondered if their son's extraordinary appearance was in any way a symbolic manifestation of their racially-mixed union, known in Japan as an "international marriage". But any doubts they might have had vanished quickly as they watched their son grow.
Bernard was from France, and he had never given a second thought to
marrying across cultural lines because he loved Miyako unconditionally.
On the other hand, immersed in a complex tangle of collective and familial obligations, at first, Miyako had been scolded for her apparent temerity. However, after numerous lengthy consultations and discussions with the members of her group, she had achieved the harmony necessary for her marriage to Bernard. Everyone from both sides of the family had been a bit startled to see the child born with a seemingly unique appearance, yet, thanks to family gatherings and holiday celebrations, all of them learned to share the joy that came with the newest member of the family.
Miyako realized that her second child would soon be born, but she was
uncertain if this one would be slightly abnormal like the first. Actually, at an emotional level, she did not care. She and Bernard loved each other so much that they believed this birth would be another miraculous expression of their shared dream. Neither of them could guess what kind of future they would have as a family, but they hoped that the multicultural background of their children would eventually be a source of strength and wisdom. They firmly believed that if their children developed spiritually and mentally in a positive way, then there would be no limits as to what kind of people they could become.
It was not a faith of any kind that they possessed; rather, it was the
notion that knowledge, in its many forms and dimensions, enabled individuals to think and act in an enlightened manner, and, hopefully, with a disposition that resisted intrinsic human foibles. Both of them knew that each of their children would have to learn the culture and language of two vastly different countries and would need the intellectual and intuitive tools to function within those distinct societies. And more than that, they would have to embrace the notion of themselves as "international people" - the personification of literal and figurative influences which can bridge the expanse between separate social entities - because the alternative was the terrible void of a foundation-less existence caught in the crossfire of provincial discrimination and exclusion.
Within minutes, Miyako's second son was born. She held him joyously
amidst the sudden calm of the hospital room. No one mentioned the
distinctive facial features of her child as they smiled underneath their
surgical masks. And in the moments that followed, Miyako's mind whirled
and floated through a labyrinth of exhaustion and satisfaction, and her
heart beat rapturously in time with that of her new son.
Gordon clicked on the television and sat back with a beer while he
tugged on a cigarette. It was all part of his daily ritual: electronic hypnosis, and the heave and sway of chaotic nicotine and sedative alcohol. Was it the day's final punishment, or the palliative addiction that he seemed to think it was? Regardless, Gordon slumped back and succumbed to the images and clandestine political bent of the American news, courtesy of Japan's satellite broadcast. Actually, he found relief in the medium if not the content: after a long day of stressful interaction at a huge Japanese corporation, the easy verbal pabulum flowed through him, although the series of stories of human conflict were never pleasing.
This was Gordon's only real "down" time during the day. He thrived on
the combative bustle and constant action of Tokyo's business life. Each day was a "win or lose" proposition and a chance to go for "the kill". He lived by the notion that each person he dealt with was either an ally or an adversary; that everyone was either an inferior, susceptible to manipulation for whatever purpose he chose, or a superior who had to be dutifully served yet monitored for potential loss of power and vulnerability to usurpation. His goal of total success was clear, and he loved the fine edge that he tread between subtle political maneuvering and ruthless ambition. Gordon felt that he was thoroughly suited for his position as an investment banker, and he took pride in the status that he had achieved at the relatively young age of thirty-two. If he had not found a civilized outlet for his domineering personality, Gordon was convinced that he would be frustrated by pent up aggression.
What he knew of Japanese culture and its manifestations in the
corporate world seemed to fit well with his outlook on life. Although it had been overplayed in the Western media, the Japanese expression that "Business is war" spoke volumes about the attitude which many workers focused and relied on every day and night to endure the harsh conditions and a strict society; moreover, it was a mantra that kept the competitive fires burning at an intense level. For Gordon, that collective disposition was the only rational reason he could discern that would explain why millions tortured themselves to survive in the high-priced, cramped, and cauldron-like city called Tokyo.
It had been a challenge at first, but the more he understood the
Japanese perspective on life and what was required to achieve collective productivity and strive towards that unobtainable ideal of perfection, the more he could see why every day countless men, harnessed in blue and gray suits, and women, high-heeled with primped skin and painted lips, plodded, shuffled, and literally squeezed and fought their way to gigantic offices with exteriors as plain and lifeless as the placid faces of their exhausted workers. The saying "Business is war", then, was not only a description of a predominant Japanese mode of thought and quasi-militaristic and Spartan-like desire which found its expression through corporate endeavors, but it was also a comprehensive and collective incantation that sprung from an intensely convoluted yet varied culture and was related to other historically-based and society-sanctioned axioms and precepts. It was faith without religious ritual, it was belief beyond query, and it was fuel for the masses who worked past the point of individual need.
Gordon actually thought it was a form of cultural genius to be able to prod the populous to such an extent.
For him, this type of work environment was perfect as it meshed well
with his "kill or be killed" business mentality. He saw the world as
being full of two types of people: those with power and those enslaved. He was not really sure when he had developed this obsession with being "on top", but he admired the unrelenting nature and seeming need for total domination that was exhibited in Japan's over achieving business culture, and he instinctively felt that his work as an investment banker in Tokyo was the most efficacious path he could take to the dizzying heights of corporate power.
This evening was like every other one as his mind continued to churn,
reviewing the events of the day and simultaneously planning strategy for both the short and long-term. However, quite suddenly, his eyes strayed from the papers in front of him long enough to notice a news flash which jarred him from his world of office intrigue.
"In what officials are calling an extraordinary natural occurrence, a
large rock formation has suddenly emerged from underneath the ocean
surface. Apparently, what were monitored as normal conditions rapidly
changed when a gigantic volcanic-like explosion ripped through the placid movements of the sea. Eyewitnesses, who were abroad a cargo ship several miles away, said that they saw an enormous surge of flames shoot up into the sky. According to their statements, moments later, huge waves formed a mammoth whirlpool of violent, frothy water. Safety teams from the United States as well as several Pacific rim nations have encircled a wide area around the site, but no formal announcement has been made yet concerning the cause of the eruption. CCN has obtained these pictures showing the huge island-like formation. At present, no secondary explosions have occurred, and the sea has calmed to normal levels. CCN will have further updates on this story as additional information becomes available."
Gordon could not believe his eyes. Had he been experiencing some kind
of hallucination from overwork or perhaps dozed off into an unusual
dream? No, the report was real, but he still thought the news was unbelievable as had probably every other person who had been watching. It just was not logical that an island would suddenly form in the middle of the Pacific. Gordon wondered briefly if he had been duped by some elaborately produced mass-communications hoax. Yet he quickly rejected this premise because he surmised that CCN could not risk such damage to its credibility as a news network by cooking up and broadcasting such a story. But, the sketchy nature and sheer mind-boggling content of the news flash made him doubt what he had seen. Gordon concluded that the best idea was to call up his friend, Takashi, to check if he had also been watching.
Takashi and Gordon had known each other for a number of years. They
had met at a symposium on international business and had talked at length at the reception afterwards. Takashi was a relatively rare Japanese entrepreneur, a quasi-individual spirit existing within the complicated morass of collective societal obligations, who had founded an organization which facilitated international corporate relations through a multitude of advertising and public relations mediums. Although they were friends and sometimes met through business activities, Takashi and Gordon were two different breeds. Even though both of them were highly competitive, unlike Gordon, Takashi, perhaps because he had been raised in a culture that valued collective prosperity over individual success, aspired to satisfy the needs of "the group" as well as his own personal ambitions.
Having grown up in a society that was fiercely proud of every aspect
of its culture, and, while it begrudgingly acknowledged the necessity of participating in foreign realms, sometimes postured in such a way that was diametrically opposed to outside influences, Takashi understood the intricacies and delicate nature of cross-cultural exchange. He also valued the importance of communication and grasped the meanings of its hardships, having struggled, albeit with success, through six years of compulsory English study. It was within this vibrant, sophisticated, yet internationally precarious environment that he sought a way to achieve both his own goals as an individual but also to remain steadfast to the demands and seemingly ageless precepts of the country in which he was born.
Takashi discovered that he could bridge the gap between often
radically dissimilar cultural perspectives by creating an organization through which globally interactive national and multinational entities could relate to each other. Although the details of each corporate challenge varied with the participants and circumstances, he always followed certain trustworthy and scrupulous tenets: namely, adherence to the predominant imperatives of capitalism, the establishment of mutual understanding and respect, and the pursuit of the continued peaceful existence of human life. From this personal set of principles was born the Tokyo-based Cultural Communications Center known more simply as CCC.
"Hello?" Takashi answered, almost shocked to hear the phone's sudden
ring.
"Hey, Takashi, this is Gordon. Sorry to bother you so late, but I need
your help. I think I might be losing my mind!"
Gordon and Takashi knew each other well enough to be cavalier when
conversing, and Gordon always enjoyed the freedom that sarcasm gave him.
At work, on the other hand, he was obligated to assume a comparatively
harsh tone, the origins of which emanated from the inherently and
intensely authoritative Japanese language.
"It's nice to hear from you at any hour, Gordon, but what the hell are
you talking about?" replied Takashi.
"Thanks for your compassion, my friend," jested Gordon.
"Gordon, of all the people I know, you're the one who least needs
sympathy, unless, of course, you’re no longer the congenitally ruthless
investment banker that I’ve known in the past!" joked Takashi.
"I guess I’m fortunate that these years in the corporate trenches of
Tokyo have toughened me up, or else I'd be really hurt," Gordon replied
facetiously.
"You should be thanking me, Gordon. Isn’t it clear that as your
friend, I'm testing your mettle and checking for any weaknesses which
might lead to your downfall," chuckled Takashi. "Now what's that you
said about going crazy?" he probed.
"Actually, I saw an incredible news report a few minutes ago, and it
really gave me a jolt. I honestly didn't know whether it was real, or
just some ruse going on in the States that I haven't caught up with yet.
Were you watching CCN a couple moments before when they had that story
about the emergence of an island in the Pacific?" asked Gordon.
"Yeah, I saw that too, but I didn't know whether to believe it or not.
I tried calling a friend of mine who works over at CCN, but apparently
he wasn't in. I didn't want to ask the guy who answered the phone about
the story in case it was a huge joke, and then I'd just end up looking
stupid. But, sure, that was an extraordinary piece of news. If it is some
kind of mass-communications stunt, why would CCN risk its journalistic
reputation?" asked Takashi obviously confused.
"That's exactly what I was thinking," retorted Gordon. "When's your
friend going to be back in the office anyway?" he queried.
"I guess in about half an hour. Want me to give you a call back
then?" said Takashi.
"I’d be very grateful if you did, that is, if you hear something
credible. But, to be honest, I'm about one drink away from calling it a
night, which means that I’ll probably talk to you in the morning, if
that’s O.K.?" asked Gordon.
"No problem, chief. Good night," Takashi replied, hearing Gordon's
"goodbye" as he hung up the phone.
Takashi looked at his watch and saw that it was still relatively
early, at least by Tokyo standards, and so he decided to call his friend
Shoko.
Of all the people Takashi had met over the years, Shoko was one of the
most extraordinary individuals he knew. She possessed a naturally
eclectic personality and a wildly inquisitive mind. Her heart was strong
and compassionate, and, despite her outward charm, internally, Shoko was
fortified by an unwavering courage. She had been raised in a family of
mixed heritage, her mother was Japanese and her father was Korean, and,
using this background as the foundation for her spirit, she confidently
embraced the intrinsic diversity of life. Yet, because of her
incongruent cultural status, she learned early in life about the
inherent malignancies that existed within the human character. However,
Shoko always displayed an inexorable determination in response to such
narrow-minded depravity, and, when she became an adult, she devoted her
professional life to bettering the human condition.
She had succeeded in establishing an internationally respected center,
known officially as "The Association for the Promotion and Protection of
the Global Community". Her organization participated in a wide range of
research and dissemination, relief missions, and fund-raising activities
for the advancement of humanitarian and environmental issues. From a
personal standpoint, for Shoko, paramount among these topics were
women's issues and cultural discrimination. The association had set up
one of Japan's most progressive, confidential hotlines for people who
had been victimized because of gender, race, or heritage. While leading
her staff of nearly one hundred full-time employees in Tokyo, Shoko also
completed a variety of volunteer services around the world. Given its
status as a nonprofit association, Shoko’s center depended on a slow
leak of funds that arrived by virtue of charitable contributions, tax
schemes, and the guilty consciences of individuals and groups.
Although she cared passionately about her work, Shoko was neither a
crusader nor a rebel. Yet with a persistent intensity, she pursued her
daily mission of providing assistance to people who had been victimized
and protecting natural areas which were in danger of being violated.
Shoko hoped that her efforts helped, in some way and at some level, to
stave off the habitual negativity of post-modernist life and the global
malaise that had infected uncounted millions around the world.
What amazed Takashi the most about Shoko was that she was always
composed, positive, and amicable regardless of the emotional and mental burdens created by the immense responsibilities and challenges which she took on. She never was pedantic or self-righteous even if he misspoke about a particularly sensitive topic. Her whole life focused on the process of enlightenment through pragmatic and harmonious means. Shoko was convinced that this was the only way to overcome historical precedents and instances of oppressive and violent indoctrination.
"Hello, Shoko, this is Takashi, how's it going?"
"Hi, how are you doing?" replied Shoko. "I'm really happy that you
called. It’s so nice to hear from a friend," she said.
"Well, you can always count on me for friendship, Shoko. But the
reason I’m calling is that I just got off the phone with Gordon, your
favorite person," kidded Takashi.
"Listen, I try not to dislike anyone, but, honestly Takashi, I can't
see how you're friends with that guy. I mean, he's the kind of heartless
corporate soldier that I'm constantly having to confront in order to
preserve a wildlife area or the homeland of some indigenous people. You
and he just don't seem to be of the same ilk," Shoko said, exasperated.
"You can rest assured that none of his deceitful, malevolent influence
is rubbing off on me," Takashi jested. "Besides, it's my job to deal
with those business types and help them overcome the barriers that
obstruct international goodwill. Perhaps my work helps to tame those
corporate beasts and makes them more receptive to people like yourself
who are enlisting support for worthy causes," he asserted.
"I can see a bit of truth in what you're saying," she conceded.
"However, even though this sounds a bit inimical, the business community
has consistently pursued one goal: making money. It’s only been recently
that, thankfully, some in their ranks have devised ways to profit
through environment-friendly methods. But, the majority still persists
in taking a quarterly approach to the overall health of the planet!"
stated Shoko.
"I have to agree with your assessment that it’s a truly frustrating
situation," replied Takashi. "But, getting back to our original
conversation, you'll be pleased to know that I don't share Gordon's
views on most topics. However, I do enjoy having a few drinks with him,
occasionally, and I tolerate his deviousness because he's proved to be
an excellent source of information."
"Anyway, he called me, and we were talking about a news bulletin that
we both saw on CCN. It was about an island that’s suddenly risen in the
middle of the Pacific! The report said that a huge rock formation
literally exploded out of the ocean in a matter of hours! Did you see
that?" asked Takashi.
"No, I just got in a few minutes before you called, and I haven't
watched the news yet. But, I'm going to turn on the TV right now to see
if there are any more details. However, that's the weirdest story I've
ever heard. Are you joking with me?" questioned Shoko.
"No, not at all," retorted Takashi. "Neither of us could believe it,
so I thought I'd ask you."
"All right. Look, I'm totally disorganized at the moment, so maybe I
could call you back sometime tomorrow?" queried Shoko.
"I’m not sure where I’ll be, but you can try me here or at the
office," Takashi said.
"O.K., I'll get back to you, and thanks for the call," Shoko signed
off.
As soon as she hung up the phone, Shoko began the reflex action of
doing chores. Like almost everyone else who lived in Tokyo, Shoko had a
small apartment, in her case only two rooms, and it constantly needed
attention in terms of upkeep. There simply was no extra space to leave
things lying around, and each activity had to have a beginning and an
end to allow for the commencement of the next procedure. In addition,
there was the ongoing work of maintaining a reasonably clean environment
within the confined area, and this meant a daily litany of small tasks
that took up time. More often than not, Shoko disliked the repetitive
nature of these duties. But, on rare occasions, the routine appealed to
her because of its detached quality: she could let her mind drift while
her body completed the required movements. It was a process that was
completely different from her normal way of thinking: usually her
thoughts were analytical and deliberate, focusing on both intellectual
and abstract concepts. As a result, the mundane job of taking out the
trash, for example, was a chance to disengage mentally and let her
thoughts flow loosely through a process of relaxed rumination.
Shoko stepped outside and made her way down three flights of concrete
steps. She proceeded along a narrow path which wound its way around the
apartment complex and led to a couple of metal bins which were used for
the disposal of garbage. Shoko was always glad to see the separate
receptacles for burnable and non-burnable waste. It was part of a
nationwide effort to recycle in Japan, and she was pleased that everyone
was obligated to take at least some rudimentary steps towards the proper
disposal and/or reuse of materials. She also marveled at the way this
type of activity established good habits in many people, setting the
example for what she hoped would be more extensive environmental efforts
at all levels.
It was late, and the neighborhood was quiet; although it was Friday,
some people would have to work the next day and there was an unofficial
curfew which reflected the sense of mutual consideration throughout the
community. This did not mean that everyone had to be in their apartments
by a certain hour, but, since any sound carried far in the silence of
the night, whatever activity someone was involved in had to be done
discreetly. In the tranquil streets, some people were out walking their
dogs, swinging a golf club, or enjoying a stroll while they smoked. It
was a relief to live in one of Tokyo's smaller neighborhoods because the
night brought this type of respite from the bustle of big city life.
As Shoko walked back around the building, one of her neighbors
appeared out of the darkness. It was Ty, an American who lived on the
second floor of the building. He was of average height by Western
standards, about six feet. However, aside from the members of Japan's
younger generation who gradually were beginning to dwarf their
grandparents, Ty cast an usually large figure compared to the rest of
the area's residents, and Shoko knew immediately who it was.
Like Shoko, Ty was in his early thirties, still single, and immersed
in his work. He wrote for a magazine published in English which he had
started with the help of both expatriates and some internationally-minded
Japanese. He and Shoko had lived at the same apartment complex
for more than two years, and, after bumping into each other at odd
moments, had slowly become friends. Ty spoke Japanese at a functional
level, and Shoko had achieved a similar degree of proficiency in
English. Whenever they met, they talked in both languages and helped to
teach each other new expressions or special phrases.
Although there were no romantic entanglements, both of them felt
comfortable enough to meet socially, and, perhaps if they were not so
busy with work, each of them casually and secretly wondered if something
more might develop between them. But those thoughts never got in the way
of them being neighbors and friends.
"Hi, Shoko," whispered Ty as he approached the building.
"I knew it was you," replied Shoko. "No one else around here takes up
so much of the night sky," she joked.
"What can I say?" he demurred. "At least, I'm quiet, right?" smiled
Ty.
"Were you running?" asked Shoko.
"Yeah, it's a constant struggle I'm waging with my beer belly. Maybe I
should be working as a forest ranger or something that keeps me more
active. Then I could drink all the beer I want and still stay in shape,"
jested Ty.
"It appears that you possess one side that is healthy and one that
isn’t. Maybe you should just give up beer altogether," suggested
Shoko.
This was one of the things that Ty liked about Shoko. She never was
afraid to speak her mind, an unusual trait in Japan.
"What? Here in Japan? That would be almost impossible!" Ty mockingly
exclaimed.
"Hey, who are you kidding? You told me that you don't really like
Japanese beer anyway, and besides, I bet no matter where you lived,
you'd still drink," retorted Shoko.
"You're right, I guess I should stop, but they just lowered the price
on a few imported beers, so I've got a new temptation," grinned Ty.
Shoko changed the subject as they continued to talk in whispers.
"How's work going? The latest edition of your magazine should be out
next week, right?" probed Shoko.
"Yes, today was the cut off date for all of this month's articles, so
I needed to run to let off some of the tension of being so busy," he
admitted.
"We've got some really interesting topics this time, like an article
by a Peruvian man of Japanese descent who’s been living and working in
Japan for the last three years. It's a really personalized story of the
'good and bad' he's encountered while living in the countryside. We also
have a piece written by an 85-year-old Japanese Zen philosopher who
explains how those ideas are applicable to everyday life. And then there
is an extremely touching story about a Japanese salaryman who
rediscovers the importance of his family when his son is hospitalized
after a car accident."
"Oh, I almost forgot, there's a somewhat mind-boggling article written
by a Japanese career woman. It’s about what she says is a new trend
which she refers to as `Sexy-feminism'," explained Ty.
"'Sexy-feminism'?" gasped Shoko, "is your publication turning into
some kind of pornographic magazine? Please!"
"No, no, it's not sleazy at all. It's actually a quite compelling
statement about how the societal empowerment of women is a movement
which doesn't need to duplicate the insidious ways of some of its power-mongering
male counterparts. The piece contends that women can take a
more enlightened path towards the management and distribution of power
in today's world. It's really very well written, although I think she
could have created a slightly more intellectual name for this new trend.
Maybe she just wanted the name to attract attention," stated Ty.
"It certainly has my attention! It'll probably be the first article
that I read!" said Shoko vehemently.
"O.K., please let me know what you think of it. You know that I trust
your judgment," replied Ty.
In fact, he knew that he did not need to ask for Shoko's opinion. She
was one of the magazine's best readers in terms of giving feedback, and,
since they were friends, she was always extremely honest with her
comments and often quite helpful with her insights.
"Ty, did you hear that report about the huge explosion in the Pacific
and the formation of what looks like a new island? I heard that they had
something on CCN about it," said Shoko.
Ty tried to muffle his laughter and then said, "Are you putting me on
or what?. I overheard some people at the office talking about that
story, but I was too busy to ask them about it. It sounded so far-fetched
that I thought it might be some office-wide joke that I wasn't
privy to. I didn't want to fall prey to our staff's usual high jinks,"
Ty explained defensively.
"I know it sounds crazy, but I got a call from Takashi, and he was
asking me about it. I had just gotten home and hadn't had time to watch
the news, but it appears to be something more than a joke," replied
Shoko. "Anyway, I thought I'd ask."
"But, to be honest, I'm kind of curious to see what this whole thing
is about. I guess I'll go back up to my room and turn on the TV,"
concluded Shoko.
"All right, let me know if it's anything serious because I don't feel
like staying up any later than I have to. I always go to sleep early on
deadline day," answered Ty.
"Hey, it's Friday night! Your lofty standing as an eligible bachelor
is going to diminish if you don't start socializing a bit more on the
weekends," quipped Shoko.
"O.K., enough jokes!" Ty playfully demanded. "In any case, I plan to
resurrect my reputation with a night out on the town - I've definitely
earned it. That reminds me, do you want to go to a party tomorrow night?
It's one of those open get-togethers where a whole bunch of people are
meeting at a restaurant," Ty said.
"Sounds great as long as I wouldn't be an intruder. What time?" asked
Shoko.
"About seven. I'll leave a message on your machine in the morning with
the details," said Ty.
"Thanks! I'll be waiting to hear from you," smiled Shoko, and, with a
quick turn of her heel, she headed for the stairs.
Ty remained in the front of the building, though, and completed his
workout with some light stretching. However, now that he had finished
running, the exhaustion of a demanding week gradually began to overcome
him. He knew that after a brief shower he would be ready to sleep,
Friday night or not.
Ty strolled up to the second flight, removed his key from its hiding
place near his door, and staggered into his room. He was tired but felt
good that his work was finished and that he had fulfilled his body's
need to exercise despite his fatigue. It was not usual that he let
himself feel satisfied. But, regardless of the high standards that he
set for himself, he enjoyed his work and knew that it was important to
occasionally recognize the value of his accomplishments.
Underneath that rational self, though, dwelled a restless soul. Ty,
for better or for worse, had a philosophical outlook on life, and this
perspective often dominated his perceptions. The fact that he had been
able to create a magazine which contained articles on a wide-range of
issues allowed him a partial outlet for the torrent of ideas that
whirled around in his head. However, the stark reality was that he
seemed to be chasing after answers that ran deeper than what could be
resolved in writing; answers that pertained to and addressed any number
of societal circumstances and events.
Somewhere, in what he thought was his warped and sordid self, was the
burning desire to comprehend and explicate meaningful solutions for what
he viewed as the inherent depravity that was characteristically
expressed in human life. Clearly, he had created a seemingly
insurmountable task for himself, and he felt trapped in a predestined
purgatory: he could neither participate in, nor accept, let alone enjoy,
life, unless he were able to achieve some level of peace with the
apparent nonsensical status quo of human existence. And yet, he realized
that the quest to discern or discover comprehensive and omnipotent
knowledge might, in the end, lead to his own demise.
For now, though, the sickening yet erotic 'bump and grind' of Tokyo's
insatiably fast-paced and unforgiving lifestyle would have to be enough.
Ty drifted off to sleep in a tumultuous froth of mental surges.
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