Tokyo and on time.
Tokyo is gone, sucked back into the vortex of memory, speed of boeing 777: delivered in the past.
This is not an instant that knots a measured passed to an immeasurable future, known to the unknown, the uncertain course.
A short small knot that can not be grasped.
For more than a year, I expected this parenthesis in the far east, which seemed to never come, and has already been completed, leaving a series of images, sounds, tastes, running confused in the mind, mixed with the dream.
Only pictures I took and the AKA-BEKO that falter head gently in my kitchen, I offer the tangible signs of this shift.
And remember:
The ad offered tissues in the street.
The green tea ice creams and red beans.
The grape and strawberry giant diosperi that never allayed.
Girls trudging all day on vertiginous heels, putting on knee-high boots (with 40 °) with the toes turned inward.
Water with the ice supply in each room.
The hot-towel to clean your hands.
The Japanese who you speak Japanese.
The numbers of stops on the subway.
Yoshinoya.
A kimono fresh daily.
The Hilton girls who work 24 hours a day.
The tons of powdered soup we ate.
Cookies packed in a one.
Crows giant and dwarf dogs.
SHINJUKU!
The students dressed in sailor suits with mini and knee socks.
The false nails encrusted with glitter and stickers.
The resilience of the Japanese, who can sleep anywhere and even standing.
rubber nipples to be put under tight shirts.
I no longer smart.
Neon lights.
The pendants on the phone.
The sidewalks slippery with rain.
The people who are not ashamed to read comics porn on the subway, while hiding the covers of novels.
Long, SUSHI ... ....
0 comments:
Post a Comment