February 19, 2017 (Tosh's Diary) Japan
As I write, I'm like a fuse that's burning, and once the explosion hits, the world I know will be torn into pieces of flesh and metal. I can tell things are bad because people are avoiding me like I'm the wrong reporter in the White House press conference. Ever since yesterday, I have been printing out images of Stephen Bannon from the internet. I'm convinced that he's a murderer. I saw the man once, the one who caused my father's death. Ever since then, I wished for him to rot outward to his inners. Bannon looks like a man that is rotting by the second. Like a hanging banana left too long on the kitchen counter, Banner is clearly decaying in front of my eyes. If you poke too hard, he will explode. It makes me sick to my stomach that I approach him about helping to build a statue in the President's honor. I now want to burn my plans and scatter the ashes into Bannon's whiskey and water.
On the other hand, it's a beautiful day in Tokyo. I spent some quality time in Shinjuku. I borrowed a jacket from a member of the family here, and there is something fantastic when you leave an over-warmed room into the cold air. I never felt so clean before. I like to lose myself in the crowd. It's the only time that I can forget about myself, and become this force. I even enjoy the Far Right in the Shibuya Station. At least four vans followed an all-black van that looked like they had metal fencing around the windows. On the top of the vehicle are four huge loud speakers. Not sure if it's a tape they are playing or an actual person in the car with a microphone. Free speech being allowed, but in a volume where one can hear it for miles. If Trump were smarter, he would have a series of these type of trucks driving through rural and urban centers. He can stay at Mar-a-Lago with "the set," and at the same time, Trump can have these trucks plow through the countryside. Japan always have better ideas than the West.
Today I will plan for my future.
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