Feels like shadows when the wind howls through my window

12/27. Kabuki-cho Sunday night. Big extension on fun-time. Everyone dead the day before on account of Xmas hangover. Now it all comes roaring back. Hosts and scouts graze in the ruins of the Shinjuku Koma theater. Homeless men squat on plastic tarps swapping food and fluids in grimy Styrofoam bowls. Company workers fret over the empty body of a fallen comrade, his eyes glued shut, consciousness lost to a very dark place. Nigerians…

 

Prowling. Landscaping. We are looking for a copy of the latest SPA!, but the conbini next to Talking Loft only carries porno mags, Men’s egg Youth, and a wall of Koakuma ageha. Then hunger strikes hard. Neat for meat in a place with space. It’s gotta be Jojoen…

Comments

[tissuekins]

Patrick, are you Hunter S. Thompson now? Shit, that post made me hungry for some Japanese food though.