A Window of Opportunity…?

“I have a question of morality… Is it morally sound to go out my window, and climb this scaffolding, to figure out where this guitar is coming from?”

A minute later, after a chuckled reassurance from my mother, that it was not an issue in terms of morality, I was off the phone and climbing out my bedroom window.  The air was cold and smelled of rain and incense.  Things were still wet in places from the day’s rain, but the scaffolding against my building – I think it was put there in order for the windows all to be replaced, but nothing seems to have happened yet, and it’s been up for a couple or few weeks now – was mostly dry.  I slipped on my sandals as I stepped onto the scaffolding, and began my search for lights.

You see, I have been hearing this guitar playing these past few-ish weeks, and I haven’t been able to figure out from where it is coming.  At first, I wasn’t sure if it actually was someone playing guitar, or just a recording that I was hearing.  Actually, the very first time I heard it, I was already falling asleep, and so couldn’t fully register whether it were real or not.  That is, of course, until I heard it while I was still awake one night.  Then I knew I wasn’t imagining things.  Sort of, anyway.  I still could only hear this guitar late at night and from my bedroom.  Whenever I opened my window to hear better, the noise from cars outside made it almost impossible to discern the source of the sound, let alone hear it.  So, I still felt like I might have been just making up the guitar, because I so wanted to have someone nearby be a guitar player.

Until tonight, that is.  I was on the phone with my mom, and I could hear it at the edge of my living room.  I went into my bedroom, and it was even more audible.  I checked the wound outside the window, and there were few enough cars, with space enough between them, that I could hear the guitar playing… and singing with it!  So, I ditched the phone, grabbed my shoes, and went out.

Have you ever been in the middle of doing something, and suddenly wondered to yourself how you could have been so stupid as to do whatever it was you were currently doing?  I climbed up decently well enough, and I even checked to make sure my legs could reach all the right places to be able to get back down.  But the fact that it is 8 degrees (46 F) outside right now, and this metal scaffolding spent its days being rained upon, had me wondering if I weren’t just being incredibly stupid, climbing up it in my sandals and bare hands.

I discovered two windows with lights on, and quickly figured out from which one the sound was coming.  I had to climb up two levels of scaffolding to reach the actual window, but I managed it.  Of course, once I was pulling myself up to a point where I could just start to see inside the window, I wondered how terribly this could go, should someone inside see me.  Screaming, shouting, and possibly objects being flung at me were certainly possibilities.  Being kicked out of my apartment for being a stalker/total creep was another.  And any chance at explaining myself was unlikely, as I could not have shed almost any light on my situation by using Japanese, and I knew I had a weak argument anyway – it is definitely abnormal to be doing what I was doing.  I mean… come on.  This is the stuff you find in movies.  Stuff the stupid character does, and always gets caught doing.

So, I decided just to peek enough to figure out what kind of room it was.  If it were a bedroom with doors shut, perhaps other people were sleeping.  If it were a living room, sleeping people would be less likely.  And, if it were a layout like my apartment, to where it would be a bedroom, but it had the door open to the living room, then it was quite likely that no one was asleep.  And, if no one was asleep, then I could go upstairs and knock and be all, ‘Hey, let’s be buddies and play and sing music together.’

My concern of getting caught left me only figuring out that it was a different layout from my apartment, but that the room seemed to be a small one.  What looked (based on windows and walls) to be the potential living room had its lights off.  So, I climbed back down and into my bedroom (slipping off my sandals as I slid in the window, of course), and went to start some laundry and take a quick shower, so I could mull things over a bit.

After showering, I could still hear the guitar playing, so I dressed in pj-style clothes and my rain boots, and went upstairs.  It turned out that what I had thought to be two apartments above me was actually only one, and I could hear my washing machine as I stood on their landing.  (Odd that I can hear that, but almost never hear anything else, and neither do I get noise complaints of any kind.)  Unfortunately, because of the sound of the washer, I couldn’t hear the guitar.  At least, I think that’s why I couldn’t hear it anymore.

I was too concerned at just knocking on the door, when I wasn’t certain that the guitar was still being played.  The lights were off just inside the door, so it was certainly possible that the player had actually gone to bed in the past few minutes.  It was already after 11pm, after all.  So, I went back downstairs, and checked to see if I could still hear the guitar.

Nothing.  At least, I couldn’t quite tell.  But, when my washer stopped a few minutes later, I didn’t hear the guitar anymore.  (Gosh, this guitar thing is a complicated sort of mystery, I swear.)  😛

Now, after having laid out my clothes to dry, all the while thinking over my situation, I decided to wait another few days.  If, by next week (I’m gone all weekend this weekend), I haven’t heard it again, I’ll put a note on their door.  If, however, I do hear the guitar, I’ll go up as soon as I hear it, and knock on their door.  Hopefully, I will be accepted and admitted, and wonderful jointly made music will ensue.  And, hopefully, they (I think two people live upstairs) will be understanding, should they ever happen find out about my scaffolding adventure… or maybe it’s best that they just never find out… yeah…


Update: It is 00:18, and I am about to turn off my light to sleep.  The guitar has suddenly returned, and in full force, with male singing.  I’m exhausted, so I’m going to sleep.  Plus, I’m already out of normal clothes and into my Sulley onesie.  Next time.  Next time.

Post-a-day 2017


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