On listening to Raining in T O K Y O [1 hour version] on youtube

An essay I hurriedly penned at a rather sad moment in my life. I hate the english language when I have to be specific. Just search for the raining in tokyo video and listen to it while reading this.

Remember smoking cigarettes overlooking the sullen streets of the downtown Japanese twilight. The unfocused vista lending a hand to your own feelings of pessimistic isolation. Thumbing your phone for notifications knowing full well the sound of a postmates coupon won't fill your souls void but still ready to accept the moment of respite before you fall back into your laizerfall life reducing task of taking another drag of that cigarrette?? No you dont, it never happened, and yet you yearn for it, why? maybe we wish we could have that form of respite. A poetic depression seems hella more fulfilling than constant numbing engagement with the skinner box notifications on your phone and new game of apex legends, the sysiphian task that most mind numbing shooters can be. In this new fangled world your brain fears the loneliness that could be allowed to you simply by switching off your screens and really being aware of what pains you. Because what is pains is an unpromised future, bills to pay, friends to call that you havent heard from in years that you know deserves some acknowledgement for what they mean/ment to you. And that lofi hip hop playlist wont save you neither. It’s not a form of respite but merely an idea of it, just as destracting as the rest of soceities bells and whistles. But at least this music acknowledges you loneliness. In a sense its slow jazz and instrumental soundscapes are created because the author knows our minds yearn for this. And acknowledgement is way better than the ignorance right? Non rhetorical. It would be nice to know: Are we really better than those who completely lean in and let the world overtake them. Do these people even exist. It's hard to tell with the loneliness lended to us “independent thinkers”. A moniker of a generation masking a cry for connection. I don't have any of the answers. I don't even know why I wrote this but for the phantom that occasionally pushes my indifference enough to care even for a second. We are all alone, but at least were alone together. :)

Author's Note

Go nuts