Seattle is one of the whitest cities in the nation, but the multiethnic rate is also high. So, there're people from Europe and all other ethnic background. Their faces are also different to each other and I can imagine where they are from. So, I can't think of a stereotypical "American people." Even though they still speak their native languages, a lively restaurant becomes an international one where I can hear some German language from the right, French from the left, Chinese from ahead, and some language I don't understand from behind.

When the languages are different, the cultures are different, too. And, there're many people who appear and act extremely different. But, before I feel they're suspicious, I accept the difference by naturally convincing myself so that I don't care about the difference, even if it seemed abnormal to me. I understand that it's the difference between homogeneous Japan and multiethnic America. So, it's not that the Americans are generous people who value the difference, but that the society is formed on that basis. I like the freedom where I can enjoy my own life because they don't feel I'm suspicious as long as I don't trouble other people. And, it's very interesting to see the variety of daily human relationship.

I live my days of joy, anger, grief, and pleasure with someone or by myself and everyone lives their lives at their pace. We know there're ups and downs. But, because we know we will have another chance next time, we can control our emotions and travel our life route without feeling bored. Knowing how to compromise is wisdom to live a good urban life with many kinds of people and events. In short, we cannot withstand unless we unload our baggage.

In downtown, I hear people's talking, light jazz music, car whistles, and the police car's siren as if it's echoing through the buildings. I sometimes feel isolated as if only myself had become monochrome in the lively town. When I feel so, I come to want to sit on a bench like this to listen to people's breathing and to feel their body temperature. I don't have to speak to them and I don't wish them to be interested in my existence. I'm just happy to feel there're people because I think it also makes me forget a nightmare and feel relieved.

Does my figure reflected on the window really exist? Or, just like the man who overlaps the female mannequin, the figure that I believe to be myself can look completely different through the eyes of other people. Or, I could be living in the mirror world. If that's true, what about myself living in the real world? These thoughts reminded me of a similar movie story I watched in the past.

I think human beings are sublime animals because they travel loading full of joy, anger, sadness, and pleasure for an extremely short moment in the space history. They live each day trying their best even though their dreams don't always come true. Physically, it's just a trip for a moment, but the value they create is high and eternal.