Chapter 7 - Japan and a Love-Sex-Riot; Part 1
Today, we're packing up for a trip to Tokyo.
We have had this trip planned in mind for a long time, but couldn't really labor towards its fruition due to certain facts of life, such as: busy with something, and let's be honest, as young adults you're always busy about something whether you like it or not; pre-packing the heavier stuff in advance; skepticism towards... a certain political writer Rose and Wolff met, and myself and Vandal's persuading them both to leave him alone, and consider the fact that he's probably fine and out there, living his life the way he sees fit and writing commentaries and creative non-fiction; and the death of Wolfgang.
Which also happens to factor in the previous fact; the death of Wolfgang and that political writer kind of merged into a bigger collective, as a collective with parts. We believed that he had something to do with Kevin Suriname's outrageous and awful rhetoric regarding Wolfgang's suicide, who he blamed Sep and Arborio for, as well as his unashamed countenance impervious to moral dissuasion against apology. And we still believe that.
So we really couldn't deal with this whole "leisurely vacation trip" at all, considering these unforeseen, and it's true, disastrous coincidences which distracted us.
Until now, that is.
We're packing up the rest of what is important and essential, which are mostly utility items, while concurrently buying a ticket to Tokyo.
Vandal's up with that.
20 minutes goes by, and hey, the stuff is all packed and we're ready to go.
"You ready?" I asked her.
"Yup. Ready when you are." Vandal said to me.
So we take our car to the airport, with our abundance of bags and backs, and before our caffeinated-selves would know it, our stuff is in the plane and we're on a plane, off to a 15-hour trip to Tokyo. If I remember correctly, it should be about 15 hours.
At least I get to bond with Vandal over our expressed love of shit anime. At least I see her smiling.
Chapter 8 - Japan and a Love-Sex-Riot; Part 2
To make a long story short, I'll give the rundown. A quick summary of events untold, if you will: we arrived in Japan after a flirty yet tiring 14 ½ hours; we got to a hotel - that was recommended by the brochures that were handed out by stewards and stewardesses for people just coming into Japan for the first time - for newcomers, vacationers, and visitors, and people like us, basically; even with our abundance of bags and just... basically shit, we managed to settle in time to see the day become night through our windows; and we just signed off for the day - away from public places, away from people. It was just us: me, Josephina; and Vandal, my awesome friend and romantic partner.
So we managed to settle in for the night. It was just us both; nothing to do, but simply relax and spend some time relaxing, spend some more, and spend again - just simply relaxing. I mean, after all, we had managed to settle in just before night fell and were able to watch the day become night-time, we unloaded our stuff and put some of them where we thought they should be put in the name of convenience, and we had just ordered some snacks and a dinner 2 hours before dinnertime. To guarantee freshness, of course, as well as the fact that we had planned to have dinner early. Because flights ain't exactly the most entertaining, engaging, physically-demanding activity in the world. I mean: you're essentially incarcerated in a large prison with wings; sitting on a chair you're seat-belted to; next to people who do or are God-knows-what because you can't necessarily trust in people's capabilities for niceness and empathy anymore - with the exception of your friends or loved ones, of course - thereby forcing you to enable your fight-or-flight response in case things get really hairy really fast; flying 4,000 feet in the air - for an entire day almost.
