Death, Taxes and Earthquakes
the three inevitabilities of Tokyo

Lonely. Depressed. Tired. Can't keep up with the pace. Sick of the smell, the noise, the crowds. I can't stand the push and the pull, the want and the need. Can't scale the wall. Can't learn the language. Fuckitall, wannagohome. And shove the words of wisdom, thanks, I'm allowed to feel this way.

Did you know that 30,000 people in Japan kill themselves each year? Or that the suicide death rate here is three times the death rate of those killed in auto accidents? Granted, both stats are probably a product of the ever-so "convenient" rapid transit system throughout the country. But even so, there's a serious problem with Japanese society and I think I'm beginning to understand why. I want Tokyo to be deep. And it is layered like an onion... but an onion, too, is superficial. Without meaning or connection, I fear there can be no magic.

I feel alone and unwanted, an indimidating spectacle who backs the natives up against a wall (or just entertains them) and is too strange and comic even for the foreigners to accept as more than an amusement. Is there a reason no one takes me seriously?

Even in my quest for employment, I feel like I'm just a tool. Apparently seeking a high-pay, low-effort job compromises my integrity. Last night I dreamt that my host mother, sister and I wanted to go to the hardware store for some reason but when we got there it had been closed down. Right in front of it, as in a department store layout, was a hair salon. One of the stylists, dressed rather like a pimp, pulled me aside and started talking to me. After I told him that I wanted to travel but needed money first, he explained that he was very wealthy and had no use for his money so he shoved a wad of cash (at least Y80000) into my hands and told me to keep it. I wanted to but didn't think it was a no-obligation donation, even though he assured me it was. When I tried to leave, however, he wouldn't let me.

On the upside (and downside), the McEvil job problem solved itself. As it turns out, I didn't have to refuse them because they refused me. It didn't cross my mind really that they'd want someone else's photo over mine. Oh well, my ego is bruised (subconsciously, this is probably the whole reason I'm upset right now) but at least I don't have to worry about schedule conflicts. All in balance.

This place is a gross money pit, though. It's impossible NOT to spend here. And SPEND and SPEND. On the littlest of things... bottled water, train passes, dinner with friends, nomikai, dancing. If I want to do anything besides stay at home, I have to spend money. Lots. Of. Money.

I'm craving to pull a Tyler Durden here and just reset the whole damn system. Pave the city to the ground. But maybe while I'm here "the big one" will hit and I won't have to do anything... it'll all be done by God just for me.

In Nihongo no kurasu we were in the middle of our large, 3-chapter test when the biggest (well, only) earthquake I've ever felt struck. It wasn't anything scary, really, but since we were on the 6th floor of a building, it felt a bit like being on a boat. And lasted longer than a minute getting alternately bigger and stronger... so I guess it was a pretty long one. I was delightfully entertained and managed to forget for a moment that I am an idiot at Japanese.

Looking outside, one couldn't tell anything was amiss. No other buildings were swaying or toppling. The only thing that indicated the earthquake was the gentle wiggling of the Kokusaibu and the clattering of the windowshades as the building rocked back and forth.

On second thought, it was pretty freaking rad. I guess Japan isn't so bad after all.

Wheeeeee! Mommy, can I ride again!?!?!?