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text message to Ryuichi

Aug. 23rd, 2008 | 11:48 am
location: ng
mood: irritatedirritated

I'm sorry that Mika-san was a little curt with you. I'm concerned its because she knows I am keeping something from her. We need to talk. Just you and I. Will you come to the studio? Tohma.
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(no subject)

Jul. 6th, 2007 | 01:29 pm
mood: listlesslistless
music: Thrillseeker ~ The Divine Comedy

There's something about Berlin...especially the East. The city still echoes with the fall of the Wall. Since reunification, the eastern side of the city has been changing at a rapid pace, with new buildings being thrown up and old buildings being repaired. Despite mostly appearing desolate and grey on the surface, when you get to know the many varied districts, there's a wealth of fascinating places; both the archetypal eastern buildings and socialist sympathies, and western influences blending through Communist kitsch. The newfound freedom of expression is celebrated, the night spots underground but unmissable. The DDR is fashionable, red appreciated in a knowing and ironic way. 

I'm torn between letting myself complacently relive the past, or simply breezing through this trip as the mature and reserved president of a highly lucrative company, as I should. As I thought I would, automatically. But when you throw Ryuichi into the balance, things are never how you expect them to be. That must be why we compliment each other so well. 

I guess the real question is, who am I now? After everything that has passed before, did I really come out so sceptical and scathed? I sometimes believe that if I didn't have NG, there would be no Seguchi Tohma left. All I would have would be reliant on other people to let me love them. I despise my dependancy on success, but seeing as I'm yet to be beaten, I will have to continue until I am either vanquished by an extraordinarily accomplished competitor, or I bring about my own ruin...How tempting.

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Jul. 2nd, 2007 | 02:03 pm
mood: exhaustedexhausted
music: Atmosphere ~ Joy Division

I feel so tired. Just tired. 

Eiri may have managed to quell my over protective demons, but that does little to placate the real devil that set up refuge in my breast nearly ten years ago. I see it, like a black dog, reflected back at me in the eyes of those I love. My precious wife is perhaps the only one who sees it for what it is and shows no fear. No, more than that, she does not fear it at all. She accepts it without a second thought, without accusation or disgust. If I could only do the same. I've been too honest with myself; I should have buried the creature deep and lived a lie. 

But that just wouldn't be me, now, would it.

And so I will grant the demon dog within a little of my time, just enough so that it will not rear its ugly head at my friends, who endeavour to become...whatever they think will bring them happiness. It is not they who should bear witness to the ravings of a maddened inner beast, a nameless envy, more than envy...for it is directed at myself, more often than not. 

Sanity is simply a question of how many people think you're sane. I believe I walk the borders without distinction, the blackness blossoming at my heels. Smoke and mirrors, starvation, saturation, drought and insomnia; those will bring transient harmony, and I will continue as always, the ghost of composure, the precipitator of great things.

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(no subject)

Jun. 30th, 2007 | 04:26 pm
mood: optimisticoptimistic

It is impossible to suffer without making someone pay for it. Every complaint already contains revenge.

Do I think Ryuichi suspects my motives for asking him to accompany me to Berlin? I do not believe his suspicions would matter. What is done out of love, always takes place beyond good and evil.
Whether or not he comes, I have to go. I will have to vet the clubs he will want to go to; they certainly know how to party in this gay capital. Eiri would never forgive me if I let him get carried away.

Europe is changing, the scene is broadening and needs a kick. Germany, flooded with industrial and metal, is cracking, as Oomph and Rammstein go up against Schiller. The UK undercurrent of punk pop heralded by Bis and even Gorrillaz, is lulling, a lack of fresh blood to fill the void left by the death of 90's techno. Italy is alive with summery dance pop...Perhaps Finland, Norway, if they can set aside their classical goth obsession briefly, their market could widen. Nevertheless, I stand by my decision to break Europe with Bad Luck. I could sell pretty much any band to my contacts in London, Berlin and Vienna. If I'm unsure as to whether Shindou and Nakano are ready, I'm certain of my own ability to market them to the Europeans. Thus a new era begins. I look forward to succeeding.



 

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(no subject)

Jun. 27th, 2007 | 11:14 pm
mood: melancholymelancholy
music: Kein Zuruck ~ Wolfsheim

Thinking back on my life, which I rarely get to do, I have but one regret. 

I really do not see the sense in regret...but there's generally an exception, even to my self imposed rules. Kids like Shindou and, dare I say it, Eiri, they court their regrets like beautiful black eyed angels. Their regret keeps their hearts belting hot blood through a myriad of howling emotions, be they rarely glimpsed, like my brother in law's, or thrust upon those unfortunate enough to be in the immediate vicinity in self obsessive tantrums (mentioning no names, of course). Regret gives people a sense of comfort, that their remorse never can. If they could take it back, then they would be reprieved. If they could not regret, they would forever suffer the pain of emotional penance. It can never be undone. Their guilt is perpetual. 

There is however, a solace in ceaseless guilt. Self pity can be most comforting, all be it a perseverate past time, and one unappealing to others. Pity vis-a-vis sympathy for oneself is far more easy to swallow than regrets. An impenetrable bubble of self disgust and self obsession can be most rewarding to the guilty party if they are worrying about others' opinions. They've got enough loathing for all, and it's even more hateful as it comes from within the self. 

I fear my perspicacity on this issue is marred irreparably by my one regret. I am far from the perfect, cold being, people percieve me to be. And so my obsession is inextricably linked to my guilt, to my regret. If given that time again, I would have pulled that trigger. 

And I would have done it three weeks earlier.

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