naked and one
we sit in front of the mirror to see
heavy history makes marks on our backs
but we're seeing the we that goes on and on
seeing the we that will never end
being the you that is also the me.
Sunday, November 9, 2008
Dream Story
It was with a heavy heart and low spirits that I finally reached Tokyo on a slow moving November afternoon. I did not know at first, how to understand the buildings, the noise or the people. My eyes soaked in the human mess that sprawled for uncountable miles and could not reason with the information. It became impossible to recognize the difference between where I had just come from and all of the new lives spread out in front of me. I decided before I left New York that my transition into Tokyo was to be my re-birth. Every single god damn thing confused me, but it all carried a familiar face. I had come to this sleek, silver city to observe and react to the things that I encountered. I was on assignment from the universe, from god and from Mortimer, who was to meet me on the 40th night. I wanted them to know that they could count on me, as a servant of the unknown mystery, to deliver what they sought.
It took me five hours to find the apartment. Walking proved difficult, that first day, as the Japanese streetwalkers sensed my heavy duty and refused to look me in the eye. They wanted nothing to do with my sort. To them, I was committing a mortal sin of the modern time. I refused to go forward with them.
It took me five hours to find the apartment. Walking proved difficult, that first day, as the Japanese streetwalkers sensed my heavy duty and refused to look me in the eye. They wanted nothing to do with my sort. To them, I was committing a mortal sin of the modern time. I refused to go forward with them.
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