He bumbles aimlessly through the station, his sandy brown hair a beacon, head and shoulders above the tide of mostly black. He has no passport and no wallet. He is a ghost - a shadow, staring with blank confusion at the tangled train timetable, buzzing his hotel room key at the turnstile instead of his…
It’s a Monday night and I’m standing in a bar bedecked with crushed crimson velvet, staring at a phallic mound of vibrating silicone. I’m in Japan and, up until now, most depictions of female sexuality I’ve seen have involved women in school uniforms. Such representations can be viewed in any 7/11 porn mag section, on…
It was 2PM in Osaka, and I was staring a pair of socks to death from the window of a shop in Tsuruhashi.
This was rare for me, as usually whenever I would come down from my friend’s apartment to the shopping alley, I would buy whatever foods tempted me and bring back a whole…
She beams at me expectantly. I look back confused and unsure of what she is saying.
Damn I wish I spoke Japanese.
I step onto the train carriage and dart towards the only available seat. Seats on trains are a hot commodity in Tokyo, so I am feeling pretty stoked. I peel my raincoat off…
Together with a flood of Japanese businessmen on their way home, I leave the train station and embark on a journey through Tokyo's suburbia. It’s a mild summer night and crickets are chirping in one continuous orchestra as I walk by the channel of a small creek framed in green. The moon shines on high…