Life is War(Part 3)

I was feeling a bit tired, so I went into a convenience store to buy a coffee. I check out a Stussy catalog. They have some fresh clothes. I picked up a coffee off the shelf. While in line, I saw that NOVA was on the front page of a newspaper, so I bought that too. I walked down the hill, turned left, and then entered a building. I took the elevator to the 8th floor, where my Japanese school is.
I've been coming here for about 2 1/2 years every week with the same teacher. Her name is Natsuko. She's lived in England and Thailand. She's really cool. Today's lesson was about The Guiness Book of World Records. I told her about my friend Zane who could shoot milk out his eye, according to the article we read this guy in India can shoot it 15ft. It was a good lesson. When I walked out the door, I looked at Tokyo from about 8 stories high, buildings as far as the eyes could see. I went down the escalator and headed towards the cafe' where I could get some food and write.
I ordered a smoked salmon and cream cheese bagel sandwich and chai tea. I sat down. My table is like a ship in the ocean, unstable, rocking back and forth so easily. Also it was positioned awkwardly, directly at another table where two girls were chatting. I felt uncomfortable staring into their conversation, but a little patience and all is alright. They were playing some god awful American Pop music, Britney, Nelly, Nerd....This was a little more difficult to take than other things.
I pulled out the latest Metropolis, an english magazine in Japan, which is complete shit, but the only one out there, so I read it. Its useful for classifieds and concert listings, but the articles are pretty useless. Then I read the newspaper I bought earlier. I didn't read any articles, I just glanced at the headlines. Afterwards I got up and returned my tray and walked to the station. I'm feeling tired, and slow moving.
It's 3:03 and I'm on the train. An older man counts his change, another reads a newspaper, 2 ladies chat. A man takes off his tie. Trains are moving past, the a/c is buzzing. Gotanda is the next stop. I hear a laugh. The guy near the door has a huge bag of books. He picks one out to read. I see this young guy looking blankly out the window. Another guy sits across from me, hands neatly folded, and head hanging down. The sun shines bright out the windows, shadows flicker across my writing page. The next stop is Shinagawa. Time to change trains.
On the platform a young man with a backpack leans against a post reading R-25, which is a well designed Japanese free magazine which reviews just about anything. A train comes, he disappears. At the post, now, a man in a gray suit talks on his phone, he uses a book to cover his face, so he can hear better. Down the platform a young woman stands in line for the next train. She holds a small folded pink towel over the bottom half of her face.
I get on the train and fight for a seat. The woman next to me ends a call. She takes a mint from her brown leather woven bag. She lowers her head and tries to get some sleep. The women with the pink towel sits across from me, her eyes closed, still with the pink towel over her face. The woman next to her sleeps on the end seat with her hand awkwardly holding her head. A woman holding a tea bottle, jacket, and bag, stands next to the doors staring out the window. 2 school girls gossip. They are the only voices I hear, but I don't understand them. A poster at the end of the train car says "100% honest". Its a poster for Suit Company. The posters are all over the inside of the train. Companies often buy out all the ad space on a train. A capitalist gallery. The woman next to me, talks on the phone about skin care soap. She must be a salesperson. The man near the door has slicked back hair and glasses. He's wearing a blue striped short sleeve shirt and brown pants. He holds a small book in his hands. I look up from the page I write as a train thunderously passes by. It paints the windows with orange and green stripes. At Kamata, many passengers get on. I see two young school boys, both with the same exact uniform looking like little Nazi children with their military general caps and jackets. A man across from me reads a book, legs crossed, one shoe taken off to feel more comfortable. We race towards Kawasaki, my stop. I have about an hour and a half to kill. I think about what I should do. We pass over the Tama river. Its truly a beautiful sunny day. The sky is clear with a few clouds floating by.