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Winter arriveth, and with it brings another form of beauty frozen in timeless splendor. Icebound cascades, snowcapped peaks, steamy mineral rich hot springs, snow clad pines and cypress trees are what come to my mind when I think of winter. The beautiful winter brocade adorning that gentlewoman's long flowing kimono, evoke in me a sense of wonder and appreciation for Japan's rich cultural heritage.


For years I've been attempting to collect a type of prosopography of Japanese women. A lot of us guys do it; we try to find reason why "J" women are this way and that way. We deduce things down using our own pimp-ology and stuff like that. What's her background, how she looks, and why she behaves a certain way. But I think what we all find in the end, is that women are just women. What it really comes down to is choosing who you'd be willing to sacrifice your life for on the alter of work.


I'm not that easily convinced that I can walk away from the pain that tugs at my heart for the Jukujo bijin, though. I know guys who have. You just simply switch likes and preferences, right? Me!? no. I think I am doomed. But I guess that's shallowness, and being inflexible to new things.

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////// The four seasons representing change are all beautiful, aren't they? Even I can concede to that, but I am not sure I can apply that to other areas of my life. Somethings should never change.


Frozen in agelessness.

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