Shinjuku in winter, 2017-. I feel useless when I try to look at coincidence as inevitability or create romance from mundane things. So I drink alcohol now in an ordinary bar with nonsensical neon lights. I thought my destiny was to drink alcohol, by necessity alone, in any place. I never tried to change that. Then I make eye contact with a man sitting across from me. Outside the window it is snowing. Between the things that fall naturally and naturally, I was alone.
