Looking for Connections in Tokyo

Here's a picture looking through the fence at the Harajuku Station platform. It grows on me as I look at these four people facing in different directions. The windows of a train behind face outward and conceal what's inside. Despite a total lack on connection, these people seem held together between the lines. The numbers on the bottom left add to a sense of mystery, as if someone is engineering this moment (what do all those numbers scrawled in train stations mean anyway?). I want these four to connect and defy the slim chances of relationship starting on a Tokyo train platform. But although these people may be open and vulnerable somewhere, it's not here.

Nearby, a picture of Britney Spears invites attention from the side of a homeless shelter, also seen through a fence. When my Japanese improves, I'd like to talk with some of the homeless in Japan. They have time to talk, and I imagine they have stories to tell. The first time I went to Ueno Park I was surprised to see a virtual city of similar shelters within the trees. Men were sitting around small tables, a few women were there, and I saw children's clothing hanging out to dry on lines.

Lately, I've been arriving at Ikebukuro Station at 7am once a week, and the walls are lined with cardboard boxes just like any skid row. It's really cold outside and sleeping in the train stations makes sense. One morning I was so tired when I there that I was looking at a man's makeshift pillow and trying to gauge the thickness of the cardboard he was sleeping on. For a moment it looked so comfortable, and then I pulled my mind away from the thought. I wonder how many of the salarymen rushing by each morning have the same idea sometimes, or whether they think about those guys at all.