The air was thick with summer and something else I couldn’t name.
I wandered without a plan — letting the city lead.
Neon lights blinked softly in alleyways,
salarymen poured out of izakayas in laughter and loosened ties,
and I stopped for a moment just to breathe it in.
The way Japan holds contrast so well:
quiet and chaos, old rituals and vending machines,
emptiness and fullness all at once.
I found a tiny jazz bar down a side street.
Three seats. No menu. Just trust.
The bartender asked nothing, poured something smoky and slow,
and Miles Davis whispered through the speakers like an old friend.
And I just sat there,
with no need to fix, explain, or perform.
Just presence. Just night. Just me.
Sapporo surprised me.
Not with fireworks, but with the subtle kind of intimacy —
the kind you don’t notice until it lingers in your bones.
📍 Sapporo, Hokkaido
One night. So many layers.
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