Tokyo
Sometimes I miss Tokyo to the cellular level. It is insane how much this city has left an imprint on me. In my memory I feel the heat of the asphalt radiating into my face while I am walking through Shimo-kitazawa, Hara-juku or Shibuya after a day of sun in the early summer. It is blissful. It is liberating. It is absolutely fantastic and dread nothing more than to one day feel like I will be too old to do these things. Weltenwandler of this world listen up: just go there and loose yourself in the swirling, steaming whirlpool that is the metropolitan area of Tokyo. Go to the little bars in and have: ビール を いっぱい おねがいします. Get absolutely trashed in a karaoke bar, eat the best seafood at any time of the day, get beers from the next konbini and sit somewhere in the concrete jungle and never, never, never hesitate. And if you have trashed yourself, do the following. Wake up trashed, go to the next sentō and soak yourself in the warms of a steaming hot bath house. Sweat out all the poison. Then get yourself some street ramen and an ice cold beer and life will be good. Live will be whole and fulfilling. Learn how little you need to be content.
If you love me, let me go back to that bar in Tokyo…
I also would urge scientists and the tech savvies out there to find a way to store emotions so that we can re-feel moments of our life. My current state of desperate nostalgia is beautiful and I thinks it these moments that give me the most meaning in my existence. I think that you can interpret libri et liberi to mean that we either leave a legacy by having children or creating something that will extend beyond our life, but I want to make a strong case for the momentary experience to be a valid source de la vie. And few momentary experiences have made me feel more electrified than the buzz and the excitement of Tokyo.