The first time I got on a subway in Tokyo, the feeling of pressure was all around me.
Men in black suits with deadpan faces filled the whole space, then flooded into the street like black blood. Tokyo, like a ravening monster, was sternly cool and unmoved,
and I found myself in teas among the crowds.
Eventually I became comfortable living with the monster, even enjoying the distance
that comes of outward politeness and internal alienation.
I have lived in Tokyo now for 10 years.
During the day, the city is full of ladies dressed up in minks and diamonds, models with
brand-name clothing, housewives who just delivered the lunch-box to their kids and then rush to meet their lovers in a hotel. Also, the homeless huddling inside their box, trying to stay warm. All sorts of characters, outwardly we look free, but in reality,
we are just puppets, manipulated by the social system.
When darkness falls, Tokyo can’ t wait to tear off its mask, and the air is scented with smell of lust. 5 am in Shibuya, men hunt their prey on the street,
while women walk by in their heels, acting coy, slowing down to fade into their view.
The day is dawning, the subway is about to run,
let’ s unlearn our camouflage and suppression and dissipate our souls,
because we are all just empty shells driven by society anyway.
Because, this is Tokyo.