April is the cruelest month, breedinglilacs out of the dead land, mixingmemory and desire, stirringdull roots with spring rain.
The Tokyo trains have had major 'accident resulting in injury or death' three of four mornings this week: suicides, attempted or successful. Several Japanese I know have said, "Ahh... spring." when I mentioned I was delayed, confirming my suspicions that it's the response of some who failed assimilation to a: 'good' high school, university, or corporate job that happens from the beginning of this month.
There is only one really serious philosophical problem, and that is suicide.Especially if you live the unenviable life of the Japanese:
Most men lead lives of quiet desperation and go to the grave with the song still in them.Jumping in front of a train, common enough at Shin-Ochanomizu station to have coined the term 'Chuocide', is the done thing. I am not sure if it is the norm more because trains are such a common part of Japanese life, or as the one gesture that might get noticed in a 'failed' life, passive-aggressive as it is.
Tokyo, if not proper mental health, or another measure for success, there is always this:
In Canada the suicides peak in winter, often the 'holidays', and if you'd lived through our winters and holiday dinners, you'd know why. I think the dullness and darkness better suits the urban Japanese psyche than spring:
Winter kept us warm, covering Earth in forgetful snow, feeding A little life with dried tubers.