I haven’t slept in two days. The walls of my tiny apartment are closing in. I started talking to my vintage oxfords. They gave me some solid life advice. “Shine us, Josh. Polish the pain away.” THEY ARE RIGHT. I am polishing the pain away! I am a machine! I drank four coffees and my heart is vibrating in D-minor. If I explode, make sure they bury me in my gabardine!
JAPAN IN AUGUST IS A MISTAKE. I am a puddle. I am soup. Josh-soup. I went to the store just to stand in the freezer aisle and a little old lady hit my ankles with her basket. I deserved it! Hit me harder, obaa-san! I am too weak to fight back! I have been wearing a wet towel on my head for three days. Biga Bosso wants me in early tomorrow. I will show up in a bathing suit.
Solo ramen. Again. The guy behind the counter knows my order now. We don’t speak. He just nods, I nod. It’s the most intimate relationship I have in my life right now. 夜の静けさが腹に染みる。(The silence of the night seeps into my stomach.) I am a profound, hungry poet. A gorgeous, lonely poet. I am going to buy a cat. No, my apartment doesn’t allow cats. I’ll buy a tamagotchi. Watch it die. *sigh*
I don’t even need you to do your job WELL, I just need you to do SOMETHING. Thank you! I screamed this in my head today. Biga Bosso just stared at me. Blank stare. The lights are on, but nobody is home, folks! I am going to lose my mind. I am going to snap and start wearing sweatpants to work. Just kidding, I would never do that. I have standards. But I am heavily considering eating his stapler.