Fatty Boomsticks now in Yokohama: Rollercoaster

That is the truth, one day good, next day bad. Maybe just sad because the end of this magic is near.
The human condition, what can I say? My condition? I feel like I have been run over by a train. Don't know what to do! Theres a hundred million things to do and I am sure I will wake up out of the funk I am in, and do something, and connect, but my neurons only want to be back in the bamboo forest, blissful and lost. I am tired of thinking, my voice is tired of straining to be understood, my ears so tired of straining to listen, and my brain is simply tired.
Last night I saw two great performances, Mika Kurosawa and Dancers, Minimal Dance Project. Minimal being the operative word in the first, incredible, amazing, both.
I cannot describe, they must come to Australia! I want to share. So strong, so minimal, Mika's solo performance left me in tears, and speechless, I wanted to crawl beneath my rock, and just be very still and quiet, and vanish. The human condition and who we are, what we are, both great and fucked. So deep.
Lina danced in the second piece, along with more than a dozen other women, and one man. Intense performance, small theater, huge presence, movement and energy that I loved, and have never seen before, but not circus acts, although seeing women lift eachother was just sublime. The way the dancers worked with eachother...sensational. I say I have never seen anything like it before, but I have, I see it on the streets, I see it when crowds mass and walk, and the incongruities and harshness of life and love.
Minimal. While watching it struck me that this was one of the reasons I came here, it flashed across my mind and I remembered, oh, another thing the Japanese excel in, and perhaps lead the world, minimalism. I like to say I am a minimalist in a very small space, but seeing Mika, I understood a new realm of possibilities, but we are born alone and we die alone.
Oh dear, how lonely that made me feel. How much alcohol would I need to warm me again? This enormous colony, and to feel so lonely.
Morisan introduced me to The Hanging Man, Takasan, an incredibly wise sage, and performer, he literally hangs himself regularly, in his yard...I am yet to see his performance, but would like to. He was smoking outside, and he had a metal tube with herbs in it, (not hashish), which he was smoking his hands with, it smelt lovely, and I asked what it was and he started smoking my hands, and pressing on pressure points, warming them. Someone looked it up on their translator machine and said I was being cauterised. Well, in the past I have been cauterised, but not like this. Later on he took my other hand and honed in on the self-inflicted scar in the center of the palm that I made in my first weeks here. I'd stabbed myself in the palm with scissors, and it left scar tissue, he was pushing on this and I could feel it in my stomach, and it felt very strange. I don't know, I trusted him and was in disbelief that this man was laying his hands on me in the foyer of a theater somewhere in Tokyo. It was absurd, but deep. It was different. If thats what I came here for, thats what I got.
We went for a delicious bite to eat between performances, or more, a bite to drink, and Morisan's colleague from work, who I had just met, Kanae Mihune, gave me a bottle of sake, she had wrapped herself in Japanese traditional manner;