January 3rd, 2007
Living out of a bag
A couple weeks ago I thought that I could survive for a month or so sleeping and showering in a manga kissa if I had to. However, after last night, I’m starting to rethink my position. I barely fit into my designated box and the chair didn’t recline more than 135 degrees, so despite as tired as I was, I wouldnt’ exactly say I slept deeply. Actually, I had a dream that I was in the manga kissa, but that each time I woke up, it seemd to be five minutes earlier than when I last went to sleep. It turned out in the end that the culprit was a rarely seen supporting character from a webcomic I regularly read. It was drawn crudely and unlike all the others, and every time I looked at the wriggling mass some sort of garbled foreboding music bellowed, like Dark Side of the Moon run through a sewer pipe. I’m not sure what it means, but it only kept me unconscious for about two hours. In the end I suppose it was better than trying to sleep in a park, though.
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Now I’m in Matsuya having just finished my fermented soybean set meal, (how else am I going to start a day like this and survive?), listening to cheap Pizzicato Five knockoff music and thinking how convenient twenty-four hour trips through quasi-urbania are made by places like 7-11, Matsuya, and the manga kissa. If not for them, the only way I’d eat at quarter to six on a national holiday would be to untether some samurai rations from my bundle and sit in the frigid, pitch dark night and reflect on how nice a fire would be. (Actually I’m in luck, it’s not that cold at all despite being winter: a tepid six degrees with no wind at all.)
But the sunrise awaits me at the Imperial Palace, so I must be on my way.
