So I don’t think I can live anywhere else, at least for the time being.

Kind of funny how the world can flip you upside down only to realize that the entire time you were looking at the answer right in your face.

Last weekend I went with Logan to the Roppongi Towers to get a view of their running exhibit called, “Future Beats in Contemporary Japanese Art.” I was absolutely blown away at what these guys were coming up with. All of them except for one were still alive, so affixing contemporary to the title seemed like a logical fit to me.

As I was wondering I got to thinking just what it is that makes Japan such a great place for art. I immediately thought of the time when I was in Hawaii and Ian and I were talking about being lazy artists. Since both he and I consider ourselves to be of the creative side of content creation, we came to the conclusion that living in a comfortable surroundings makes your mind wander less, and process less, and in the end you just do not think as much. You sink into your daily rut and just go through the motions. As an artist, that is bad because if you are not thinking you are not creating. If you are not creating, you are just a slave to the system and are no longer on the bleeding edge of reality — digging up lost emotions to express in creative ways to the other system-slaves.

Being in Japan is like a constant struggle with me. I want to probe and analyze everything, but more importantly I want to push the envelope as much as possible while living here. I want to get someone to actually yell at me, instead of just giving dirty looks and moving out of the way. The first person that says something like, “You’re a real asshole.” in the appropriate Japanese equivalent; I’m buying him or her drink. I don’t understand how in the world you are supposed to get your point across when you don’t ever speak your mind. Japan is supposed to teach you to have no mind and just be part of the system, but for those of us who are not part of the system, or managed to escape from the inner confides of the mental prison, life in Tokyo provides a wonderful source of inspiration and daily though provoking madness.

I am not out to change Japan, that is impossible. I am out to in Japan learning how to express myself in the most insane ways every moment im awake, without ever resorting to the retarded lazy way of just dressing like a freak. That to me is the artistic equivilant to mental bankrupcy. When all else fails, dress like a whack-o! Too bad this is japan, and they already do it better than you. People stare at me because I am white, not because I am wearing Gucci and Armani, so I will give them something to stare at, scoff at, and scold in their minds at. It’s like an inmate screaming to the outside world because someone just jay-walked 200 meters away. I laugh at it, because I can and because I want to: because I am not your system, and your system will not affect me if I do not let it.

My life is for the moment restrained to carrying around my notebook and my camera. The notebook for writing down lyrics when I think of them, random insanity when it strikes me, and conversations when they prove themselves useful. The camera, because this city is amazingly photogenic in a “far east,”, “oriental rug,” kind of way. I like to take pictures of the insanity that is Tokyo. People take big wide shots that show the beauty of the city from the eyes of a 52nd floor observatory. I like to take pictures of bums next to garbage next to Ferraris. It’s that wide a girth in living conditions that struck me so hard when I first got here. Not that it’s any different from NYC, but for Americans like me living in another country, seeing it is different than reading about it.

I like Japan because it gives me what I need, asks for much much more, and takes whatever it feels like.

What I miss the most:

Family
Friends
TV
Speaking English

Basically I can deal with the rest with the greatest of ease. It gets easier.

So as quickly as I became depressed, I have pulled out of my recession and emerged basically unscathed minus a few scars from doing uh…. bone density training…. Of course, immersing yourself into a new culture will always result in culture shock, but somehow in the deep recesses of my mind I felt like I would be immune to it. That, however, was dreadfully wrong. Even after the realization that I was having culture shock, my depression still ceased to wane.

During class, we like to use our DS’s to play games or use Pictochat, a glorified chatroom over wireless. The first half we actually pay attention in and learn a lot, but our second class is either “speaking,” in which we learn what’s called keigo or the most polite form of Japanese. The Japanese cannot even speak keigo, so who are we learning to speak to? The emperor? If not speaking, we have our kanji class; those little devil pictograms that make learning Chinese and Japanese so damn difficult. So rather than pay attention and waste our lives, we enjoy it with our Nintendo DS’s. During a chat I had my revelation.

I had a feeling since the very beginning that I needed to get back into my practice of minimilazation and remembering to live the Buddhist style life of having no attachments and minimizing the needs or desires for anything. I found myself moving in quite the opposite way when I got here. Then I remembered what it was that made me so unconditionally happy in UMass when I was going through the worst times of my life: nothingness. The emptiness of the universe that has scared humans since the dawn of time is actually my security blanket when I feel like something should matter: I remember nothing matters in the end.

Then I realized that nothing that made me upset should matter to me anymore. I am not Japanese, so all the problems of Japan do not apply to me, no matter how versed in Japan I become, and no matter how fluent I can read write and speak. I am an alien. I can go home. So I realized that just because I have no intention of living here, does that mean I should not or could not enjoy the time I have here. Yes, I still want to become pretty damn good in Japanese, but its not the end of the world if I don’t. I am here to have fun first and foremost. Money does not matter to me here, as I have a job that pays 30 dollars an hour just to sit down and talk to high school kids in English. When I leave here, I will be applying to the University of Hawaii, just as I always had planned.

In reality, nothing has changed. I am still who I always was and always will be. It’s just that when I leave here, I will be much better in Japanese, and will be able to talk to anyone from Tokyo about what’s up and down.

People on this earth live in the dirt and kill their own food every day.

What could I POSSIBLY be upset about?

Besides, staying in one place too long is not my style anyway…..

It’s not that i’m depressed, even though I am, it’s just that old saying that keeps coming up and biting me in the ass and punching my ears constantly.

“When in Rome, do as the Romans do.”

It’s good advice, specially being here. It’s just that, well after being here in Tokyo I really don’t want to be like these Romans. Maybe in a different part of Rome people act differently. Nicer, friendlier, more outgoing, less retarded, but I feel like there’s something about a level of intelligence that is missing. i literally feel like if i didn’t have japanese class, i could get by just fine knowing nothing more than a few words in japanese; sumimasen[excuse me], arigato, oishii[delicious], sugoi [amazing] and a few others.

i think, aside from not being able to actually communicate with people, that the lack of range in japanese is something of a depressing fact. people just do not use many words here. everything people eat here is “oishii” or “umai!” how the shit does that work? i want to eat something and go to the cook and be like “this tastes like horse shit!” [kore tte uma kuso no you na aji ga atta ]

don’t get me wrong, i have met quite a wealth of intelligent individuals here that are japanese. Logan’s roommate Shima is a prime example. The kid is a genius, so much so that his social function in his brain is a little screwed up. but listening to him talk about manga robots or how you assemble lighting differently in snow and rain when filming a movie; it’s awesome. maybe i just havent met the right people yet, which is a huge possibility.

i think it has more to do with the fact that people here care more about image than ANYTHING else. its like my buddy omar here said one day. “people here carry around guitars just to look cool. they have no understanding of music, and cant play for shit. and there assholes on top of it.” Tokyo is all about image with no substance. it’s the exact opposite of what i want to be, substance without image.

i guess at the end of the day im not really sure what the hell is wrong with my brain. i should just get out and meet new people. i think thats the best.

Don’t get me wrong, I actually do love japan. I think this place is great fun, but hardly more than that. All the little things in life that you’re used to are completely gone and disappeared. You can maybe find the stuff, find a replacement, but you rely more on your comfort levels than you think. Im not saying I want to quit japan, but im fustrated out of my mind. This stress is killing me. I cannot express how crazy this city is. Maybe out in the country it’s a little different, but I don’t think so. I need to get out of here, even if its just for a little while.

I don’t know what it is, but i feel like i am not doing anything here. i feel like i’m just going out with a bunch of cool international kids and spending a lot of money. why would i come here to do that? i can do that in America for a fraction of the price.

People here really like to move at their own pace. I have a feeling it’s some sort of subconscious defiance of the system from which most Tokyoites are enslaved. I see it all the time here, too. Chivalry is absolutely and completely non-existent. I watched a salary-man take out a little kid on the stairs and didn’t even look back to say sorry. I don’t think he is a bad man or anything, and everyone is responsible for their own actions, I really believe that he was just so absorbed into his world that he didn’t notice. He really just needed to move within the confines of his own world, which includes moving at his own pace.

One day I saw an old lady trying, by herself, to make her way through the madness that is the mass transportation here. She had her hands full on top of it, and to me looked like she was ready to collapse. In Japan, being handicapped means nothing, as there are no anti-discrimination laws on the books here. She was hand over hand pushing herself up the only set of stairs in the station, trying to get to her exit. I approached her and in my nicest most humble and formal Japanese asked if she needed any help. To my surprise she told me she does that once a week, and has done it since she lost her husband 10 years ago. I was just amazed.

In Tokyo, people push all the time. They don’t look at you when they do it, but they do. People run up escalators and impatiently wait for elevators; feet taping hastily to the unknown, 300bmp pulse of Tokyo. People bum-rush the ticket gates at Shibuya only to wait for the next train anyway. I let women and kids go before me only to get pushed out of the way by some salaryman trying to rush the office early or already running late and trying not to lose his or her job. It’s pretty damn dog eat dog here, and despite the fact that the actual crime rate here is astonishingly low, this city is a subtle battlefield of human existence all sitting just below the surface that no one really likes to talk about.

And here was this old woman, climbing up the stairs, entirely at her own pace.

So for a while now my hands have been shaking almost entirely uncontrollably. It took me a few weeks to figure it out but I feel like my system is going through some serious caffeine withdrawal. the funny part is that there’s tons of caffeinated products around here, but there is nothing that even comes close to real drip coffee here unless I feel like spending 500y (like a little over 4 dollars) on a cup. I refuse to pay that much. So lately my system has slowly been purging itself of its vivacious caffeine dependence. Even now I still have the shake. I’ve tried to wean myself off by drinking this stuff called “black,” that you can get in vending machines. It’s nothing more than just cold black coffee, but something is amiss with it. It just does not taste like real drip black. The Japanese love sweet stuff, and there is a small hint of something even in there. Oh well. I guess for now I will just have to adjust to not being as ripping on coffee as I once was.

And before you ask, no I refuse to drink those energy drinks they sell here. For those that don’t know, they are these little, like 100cc bottles of insanity in a small package. I didn’t drink those bawls or redbull in the US; I’m not about to do the same here. It’s mostly principle. I don’t put stuff into my body that I don’t like. Yes, I love the flavor of all forms of coffee and tea so that’s why I drink it. I hate the flavor of all of those drinks, even the ones here.

I had this thought other day. Living in a foreign country is entirely a world apart from just visiting on vacation or the like. I think it’s like watching an episode of Survivor vs. actually being stranded on a deserted island. Sure you might be able to recognize somethings later, but as soon as the show is over the channel changes and you’re back in reality. Actually living here is like being on that deserted island. You have to find your food, the way everything lays into place, and the way you fit into that world; both how you look at where you are and how it looks back on you. Sure, being a foreigner here is fun, but the world looks both at you and on to you every moment you are outside in public. The only way I could truly disappear is if I put on a hat and wear sunglasses, which I sometimes do but merely for fashion and not to become invisible. I don’t want to be invisible here. I like my gaijin [foreigner] status, and so do most of the people I meet. Lately as my Japanese has gotten better I find people more and more opening up to me and inquiring into my life. I also like the fact that no matter what drink you buy in a vending machine, it usually comes in a can and is heavy enough to break a man’s skull.

Why does Apple sell so well here? Why does the classroom I’m sitting in have Bose speakers? Why does everything talk here? Why would I need to shoot warm water into my ass instead of just using TP? Why is it that tech here is so amazing, but I cannot even use the internet in my room? More ranting later…Stay Tuned!

Ihara-dojo. I found it out in the corner of Ebisu yesterday. They turn out some of the best K1 fighters, which is exactly what I want to do. I sent them an email but have not received a reply yet. When I went there, the lights were out and no one was there. I hope I get a reply soon, as this period of non-training is killing me.

Going from taekwondo, BJJ, and afternoons in the weight room to doing what I can in my room and throwing kicks on the roof of my apartment is a hard adjustment. I am trying to stay in shape, so whatever counts. I miss training my ass off at umass, although I don’t think I have lost much of anything being here. I can still ax-kick over my head and sidekick you in the face.

Other than that, classes here at Sophia have been pretty Ok. For intensive Japanese, it’s been rather easy although having already worked through the Intermediate Japanese textbook will do that to you. The other text book is mostly just reading materials, but I am going to start doing the exercises on my own, and working on kanji on my own. I think I’ve already learned another 100 since I have been here, which is awesome for not even 3 weeks. I feel like taking two semesters of intensive Japanese will put me at a great spot, should the zoo make me come back to graduate.

I only wish I had the opportunity to meet more people. This Friday there is a gathering for the Amnesty International circle, and if it is not very time intensive I might end up joining that; anything to meet some Japanese and speak more than I am now. I think between kick boxing and that, I should have plenty of opportunity to speak and meet a lot.

I’m still here, still shining, still taking pictures, although lately I have not been around much cultural things to take pictures of. I snap random shots with my 5.1mp cell phone, but that is merely to ease my curiosity when i see something framed the way i like it. The pictures are ok, but the Kodak has a much nicer — well — everything. I’m forcing myself to take my Kodak out more before I pick up a Nikon D40 kit. It’s not even 500 dollars here, and for a dSLR setup with glass – that’s really cheap. Gotta love Bic Camera.

We shall see. Maybe I’ll upload some photos later. Hopefully we’ll be getting internet in the apartment soon.