Shinjuku. It’s a concentrated dose of everything I dislike about Tokyo. Sure, it was exciting when I first moved to Japan, but now I see through it. At it’s cancerous heart is the labyrinth known as Shinjuku station. A place that would make a Minotaur say “fuck that place!” It is an unholy hybrid of an eatery/ boutique massive transit point. The thing about it is, it is the center of the entire country as far as I am concerned. Just as all roads lead to Rome, all train stations lead to Shinjuku station. Here there are women made up so heavily, that it obfuscates who they are. A sonic tout assault selling and begging in equal measure with nobody listening. International gawkers, and drones scuttling to and fro. People here just seem so much more style over substance. I like to avoid being here when I can, but sometimes it is unavoidable.
So I am here a second day in a row. Last night I was here and I drank a little too much. I rarely drink, and last night I went a little overboard, so I’m paying the price now. Some friends of mine are visiting Japan and I am thrilled to hang out with them and show them around a country I consider home, but damn… This place… Ugh. Hell.. I’m just a little hung over and a little extra cynical today.