Fotos de Michele Jame

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Resumen

  • 2 recomendaciones
  • Idiomas que habla bien English; está aprendiendo Arabic, French, Japanese, Thai
  • 42, Mujer
  • Miembro desde 2015
  • slangin' that English down yo' throat ! haha.
  • Bachelor's Degree
  • De Spokane, WA, USA
  • Has completado un 95% de tu perfil

Sobre mí

Under this canopy of sin, I ached for his attention; it was mounting, not abating and I saw it enlarge before my own eyes and I felt its greed.

And in that selfish moment, when he pulled me a breath's gap away and began possessing me; kissing me, I realized how powerfully love was merely rising and falling, extending and receding, amplifying and abating, intensifying and diminishing, advancing and shrinking, dilating and tapering, consuming and condensing, lengthening and constricting, flourishing and shriveling, thriving and wilting, like a heart beneath a rib cage; pounding for life, hungry for experience, endless in its quest.

All at once, there I was: lonely in this city. Getting hungrier watching the night dip into the limitless mess it would become—forgotten lies, restless excuses; wild plights.

Por qué estoy en Couchsurfing

I just want someone to blow my mind.

Intereses

on that yoga tip.

  • yoga

Música, películas y libros

The Weeknd.
FK Twigs.
Sade.
The Veronicas.

David Snyder.
Paul Theroux.
Douglas Coupland.
Michael Tsarion.
Lenon Honor.
Dr. Magda Havas.
Jane (Marie) Chen.
Muniba Mazari (Baloch).
Lauren Singer.

Algo increíble que he hecho

I let the rain and bitter cold dictate my mood with its icy grip. I was killing time, but it was killing me to be sitting here without you. All the hours without you on my skin, in my hair, tasting my breath: the minutes were killing me for my yearning was its own weapon marring me with every tug of desire.

There it was; another depressing-lopsided-homesick-Wednesday full of afternoon loneliness. Loneliness in its optimism took the form of freedom, and I tried to feel that way today: free. Free from the silent pressure of an imaginary job title. Of which my experience of the fakery of it all—the powerlessness of the title—only took on the form of witnessing my male coworkers earn more money than me with the liberty to make as many mistakes as they pleased with a carefree attitude, at times, even glee. I tried to push it all out of my mind. Instead, I sat back and daydreamed about him pulling off my panties in the backseat of his car. I loved the urgency of it, the reckless hour it began, the speed, and afterward the reassurance and promise that a slower version was yet to come. Rock-hard abs, small-mouthed, and young: those were his predominant features. But he was now a distant memory; forgotten, erased, a thing that happened once with no power to indent my life. A slower version only lived in my silent fantasies, unwitnessed, hidden—waiting, just waiting for a better reenactment to present itself and take hold of me in a different form, on a different day. I was still aching for someone to set their eyes on me and unravel all the things I can be.

I was crippled by my desires. The swooning, the yearning, the frantic feelings all piled up—they were avenues and clusters blocking and stopping the will to do anything else. So I struggled to accomplish both the trivial and the essential endeavors in my life. And I was a conscious witness to this battle, but simultaneously powerless to its force—the rage of hormonal yearning: a dictator ruling my life.

Desire was staining me; I could not erase it. The best relief was to replace it, trade one fantasy for the next, for its force was unimaginable and it consumed me. I was beginning to hate the feeling it brought. I felt emptied by its ceaseless process and the accompanying dwindling prospect of its scarier counterpart: the impending death of it all. Desire was sexy, but it acted like a demon controlling me. I welcomed it handsomely, and it left me in ashes.

Enseña, aprende, comparte

"We travel for pleasure, for a door-slamming sense of "I'm outta here," for a change of air, for edification, for being transformed, for the voyeuristic romance of gawping at the exotic." —Paul Theroux // Deep South // 21

The day rose with activities. People pooling into the tiny airport, chirping to one another. Lines snaking along rudimentarily. The ache began again; a throb, of the uncertain future— stinging me.

Traveling gave you panic and a rush to be alive. The will to calculate, to make loose plans and then watch them smolder to pieces. The great unknown, the constant virgin; virgin landscapes tickling your eyes, and the unfamiliar dangling just before you: gave itself to you, willingly. It begged to be ransacked and to be touched, to be breathed upon and to hear your cries.

Lust my best friend, loneliness my loud enemy.

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In the landscape of my mind... we were tangled in joy.

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Humans are a spectacular wealth of judgment, know-how, dogma, insight and schooling.

Easily seduced by expertise. haha!

Like the first movie projector was invented in 1879; I mean that was the prelude to what is now a million dollar industry. I mean the prelude to a means of indoctrination deeper than the Mariana Trench, lying silent in the background of our minds.

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All those delivered lines; all those orchestrated laughs. All those televised feelings rumbling inside.

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Favorite internet quotes:

1) "On a scale of nachos to fake pockets...."

2) "Shut up and take my money"

€€€€€€€€€€€€€€€€€££££££££££$$$$$$$

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Friendship/relationship goals = DamonAndJo

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Attraction and aversion—playing their symphony in me.

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Spending a whole day with someone was like being privy to their greed.

And all that unwanted syllogism, is it necessary?

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Time can be lightning; or time can be a vampire.

Time was a needle—sewing wounds, stitching the liaisons of disconnect and, ultimately, rejection. Cinching them with the glue of tomorrow's inhibitions roaming wild in our hearts. Replacing doubt with an amalgamation of forgetfulness' freedom, hindsight's poise, and attention's hunger, it did the job of skewing our minds with its forward beat. We could not step back, we could not pause the meter of time: running. Ceaselessly carrying us on its wave—its groove: our cycle of joy and pain. We were its dedicated soldiers, an army of pendulums, time-keepers, hour-glasses—spilling our sands of experiences and unimaginable ordeals and tribulations making a mound of them all; a hill, a wall, a sand mountain encased in an hour-glass of wide curves, begging to be flipped upside down—begging for a restart.

Qué puedo ofrecer a los anfitriones

Download the app “Citymapper” they have Tokyo :)

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You can rent cheap SIM Cards and get your WIFI needs met here:

********VERY IMPORTANT :) ****************

https://rental.cdjapan.co.jp/

*****CHECK IT OUT****** It’s in English :) ****

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Buy a Suica card or Pasmo card, for use on trains, busses, buying snacks at convenience stores and wherever you see a Pasmo icon!

The plugs 🔌 here are TWO-prong (flat-pronged type A, B) the voltage here is 100 V.

“Kanpyo” sushi is pretty good if you spot it at the convenience store, it’s a kind of gourd that was popular in the Edo era.

“Seiyu” supermarkets throughout Chiba, Tokyo, and Yokohama are basically Wal-Marts, but better quality; lower prices.

If you are coming to Japan in the summer, bring or buy a handheld fan, you can find cheap ones in Daiso (the One Hundred Yen stores). The humidity is insane at times. You need to fan yourself off, trust me.

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The cheapest way from Narita Airport is to take the train to Ueno station or Aoto station, from Aoto station you can transfer to a train that will get you to Oshiage station ‘SKYTREE’ if you miss a direct train to Oshiage station ‘SKYTREE’.

It takes about an hour and costs ¥1,162 Japanese Yen from Narita Terminal 1 or 2/3 to Oshiage station ‘SKYTREE’ on the (orange) Keisei Narita Skyaccess Line. From Oshiage station ‘SKYTREE’ you can get to Shibuya, Shinjuku and so on rather easily.

So, for example from Oshiage station ‘SKYTREE’ to Shibuya station is takes about 40 minutes and costs ¥237 Japanese Yen. Taking these particular trains from Narita to Shibuya would be ¥1,399 Japanese Yen, compared that with a bus that is pushing ¥2,800 or ¥3,000 upwards!?

Also, beware if you causally google map Shibuya to Narita Airport or vice-a-versa you will see a suggestion for the “Narita Express” Limited Express (red), I’m NOT recommending that as it the same time (an hour or more) and that price is more than ¥3,000 Japanese Yen! Avoid that IMO. Aim for the (orange) Keisei Narita Skyaccess Line instead.

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The best cherry-blossom viewing spots are Naka-Meguro station: walk along the river; Kichijoji station: go out the Inokashira park exit and walk to the lake/park; Kunitachi station: walk down the big, wide prominent street lined on either side with 80 year old cherry blossom trees!

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Japan: the good, the bad, and the ugly.

The good: all that steel & all those screws (sometimes when I'm on the train I think how many screws did it take to make this, like how many licks does it take to get to a lollipop? well, not quite), impeccable facilities, the usual you'd expect: a kimono sighting here & there, conveyer belt sushi, punctual transportation, cherry blossom trees, Mount Fuji poking up into view, erasable pens, unlined notebooks (what could be better than that?), a shopaholic's dream come true; you name it!

The bad: sardine-crammed rush hour trains, standing up on a bumpy bus ride cuz it's too packed to sit down (never again!), drunkards' vomit after midnight, smoking everywhere (there is very little escape; a smoker's wet dream), passive aggressive utterances, the perfect "wakanai" response to everything, the "muzukashi" mindset, all that red tape, all those first-world problems—like someone talking on their cell phone on a bus (I mean, hello, people all over the world are suffering horrible fates...talking in a public place is really NOT a crime when you put it into perspective), the thinnest walls in every apartment imaginable, rats—I'm talking rodents—in Shibuya (yeah, I went there!), you know the drill. Not to mention—all that tooth-sucking! A whole land of vexatious and abrasive tooth-suckers, you know, when a person ever so passive-aggressively sucks a very audible breath of air between their teeth, like inhaling ice cream through a straw—to signal to you a whole gamut of emotions—“don’t ask me this”, “how dare you”, “I’m so irritated but I can’t show it, so I’ll clench my teeth and suck this air between them instead”, “can’t you tell I’m frustrated”, “leave me alone”, “I can’t be bothered”, “how could you?”—all those unspeakable phrases just lying on the tip of a tooth-sucker’s lips and tongue.

The ugly: gender inequality, soon-to-be 80 million smart meter land (by 2024 to be exact; oh hail pulsed electromagnetic waves from TEPCO right in your home when you sleep!) , discrimination, nationalistic vehicles driving around blaring propaganda, every-man-for-himself attitude when it comes to public crime, not to mention the bystander effect, the "courtesy" robbery—when you get all the cash from your wallet stolen but you get your actual wallet and everything else back intact so you don't notice anything was taken until it's too late, the absent and nonexistent smiles Tokyoites never ever give, the list goes on. Did I mention earthquakes? hmmm, that was a big one just now. Let me tell you what is worse than tooth-sucking—it’s the nose-sniffing!

So just come on down, the price is “takai”! Stakes are high that you'll have a lovely adventure or two.

Add me on WhatsApp
+81 80-5506-3559

Países que he visitado

Belgium, Cambodia, Canada, France, Georgia, Greece, Hong Kong, India, Indonesia, Japan, Kyrgyzstan, Lebanon, Mexico, Morocco, Philippines, Qatar, Serbia, South Korea, Thailand, United Arab Emirates, United States

Países en los que he vivido

India, Japan, Thailand, United States

Únete a Couchsurfing para ver el perfil completo de Michele.