really doesn’t belong on twitter
If i may break from the OMG I AM OUT OF/TOTALLY IN MY ELEMENT thing for a moment ( as if people are reading this) this city is unlike any other in the world. I haven’t been everywhere but I’ve been around a bit and nothing has just knocked me flat like this bizarre, wonderful place. The alleys have suballeys. Think about that. The alleys have suballeys. I’ve been trying to quantify how much bigger Tokyo is than home and I just can’t do it. The closest I can get is that there’s more accessible surface area. Like way more. Every building is open to you. From the basement to the ceiling. You can’t see what you’re getting into and if you can’t read the characters you pretty much just need to trust it’ll work out. For the ignorant tourist everything is an adventure. Everything is a surprise. A blind elevator can be a terrible hostess club or a bar that is so wonderful it shouldn’t exist. I’ve never really found the same place twice and - really - that’s kind of the point. The streets don’t have names here. You just go for it. It’s scary at first. It’s terrifying and frustrating and impossible and the worst. But when it works out it is so much more special than anything else. So much more alive. Every moment is just packed with possibility and you get that whole murakami reality. If gods do exist they’re probably in those suballeys. Anyway I’m now in the bar that first made me want to go to Tokyo. The one Sophia Coppola used to show loneliness (related: LOL/RIP. ) The one that connected with me at a different point in my life. But right now all it makes me feel is hopeful. Like there’s something hiding out there and I’ll bump into accidentally. I’ve been drinking so sorry for clogging up your Internet with live journal ramblings. Tomorrow I’ll be back to screaming about clothes or freaking out about toys. Right now though… Thanks to everyone who helped me get here and goodnight to glimmering, impossible Tokyo. You are endless and beautiful and make it all worth it.
