Gemini Reflections

Writing this blog 260 kilometers from Tokyo where I live with my shirt off, relaxing at the home of one of the few people in Japan that I consider one of my true friends, I am trying to be say something good.  I do feel good today, and it’s mostly because I’m actually on a consecutive break for 4 days, the first long stretch of holidays since Winter. I’m still teaching my ass off for less than living in Tokyo wages, however this month I managed to score the ONE CLIENT that is necessary to bring me over scraping by so I could actually get the fuck out of the rat race Shibuya crossing and smell the ocean.  Last year, this time exactly I got to see Okinawa for the first time. I was a freelancer and not a teacher at that time and so my outlook was still optimistic. For the last few months I haven’t touched my guitar, I’ve barely sung a song and the realization of how little the creation of art is in my life has depressed me more and more as I am in the dawn of turning 42 at the end of this month. The thing that strikes me the most about being 42 is that basically two main things: I don’t care to argue with people and I am NOT in a cycle of trauma recovery.  This is probably the two phenomenal differences between how I was at 32 and how I am now at 42. If people strongly disagree, I think wow, thanks for your insight, we disagree.   I think about what they feel away from them and we either continue our conversation another day, or we don’t. I’ve lately not been posting on social media much because I am just not outputting for some reason, probably lack of interaction with others on “social” media.    I am not playing or making music. It seems like all I have time to do is work and study Japanese. Every activity seems to revolve around those two things. I do have an interesting English student who is a signed singer in Tokyo.  She is young and typical J-pop beauty who doesn’t speak English at all.  I obviously speak Japanese well enough to have her as a client, which I don’t think I could have done last year.  She’s not interested in speaking the language well,  I am coaching her on how to pronounce the words in The Carpenters “Top of the World” Beyond this, I am also coaching her in emanating Karen Carpenter’s vocal licks and hitting the notes that I hear in the song. So, I am also vocal coaching which feels really good. I am singing a little. But it’s mostly her doing the singing of course. The job is interesting though, and I’d love to be doing more of this kind of thing in Japan.  I don’t hate teaching English in Japan, I like most of my clients and classes a lot, I just hate that I can’t make a decent living doing this in exchange for sacrificing my freedom and purpose.  Is this my real purpose?

There is a back up singing project that someone has asked me to help out, but for the life of me I can’t seem to find the motivation for it.  I can’t even pick up my own guitar, I have a new CD player and I could practice some of these karaoke CDs just to start singing and I haven’t. I’m just writing about not doing it, but still not taking actions to change it. I hope the change comes soon because my life without art and music is just not a life worth living. I really want to move out of Tokyo when my lease is up. I have acquired a few things, a washing machine, a refrigerator, a table and some chairs are my only possessions. Nothing compared to what I had in LA. I want to live in a place that is outside of the city. A country town surrounded by nature and nice people. This is where I want to study Japanese to fluency. I moved to Tokyo because I thought it would be a great place to explore arts and music and the creative spirit but the opposite has happened.  It has successfully crushed my spirit. I thought I could just drop in and out of The Matrix like Trinity but just 6 months of the regular job grind has somehow convinced me that I am stuck here. I’m just not happy when I am not free. I’m not living the life that I think I should be living and that’s like everyone else in the world my age. The bloody problem with me is that I am aware that there is a better way and I don’t seem to believe or have the same energy I once did a year ago to manifest my path to bring about the results that I need. When i ask my inner self what I am supposed to do next it tells me two things: I am not ready to have a child and I am not ready to leave Japan. I can barely feed myself well and I don’t have a prospective partner is the same story that I’ve been running for decades unfortunately. The idea of being a single parent would just triple the struggle and not be great for the kid so I am giving up for now.  My motivation to study Japanese so much comes with struggling to understand people’s conversation and from the fulfillment I will get when I am finally fluent. It comes with the determination to get something tangible from the experience of living in Japan which I feel like I have given up so much for. I am not feeling fulfillment now and this is because my original plan to be a self employed freelancer has been crushed by the rush hour train population and the daily Tokyo grind, hopes and dreams of being able to express myself fully crushed by other people as they try to get to work everyday. I want to have a Japanese speaking job outside of Japan, working with people who have escaped this rat race. I have a photo of Hawaii on my wall where I think I will move in 2 years. This is where I will recharge my soul after it has endured this project of fully understanding self in a new way. Even though my spirit feels so devoid lately, I know that I am on a grand spiritual journey where my ego is being destroyed like it has never felt and beyond the words that I can even write in blogs, that I will probably only fully understand at 52.  .


i don’t love you, let’s make a baby

i don’t love you, let’s make a baby

IMG_79321 month until you turn 42 feels like remembering when you were a little girl and giving your dad a handwritten card for his 42nd birthday.  He seemed so old to me then. But really both of my parents were in the prime of their lives. The 40s is still young I realized. No one ever guesses how old I am and it has to do with the fact that I don’t have children I reason.  Kids make you age no matter if you have one at 16 or 46. I’ve been thinking about the baby factor lately because I have to. I have always sworn that I would parent. It was something that I always knew. I would be a mother. And yet, here I am dawning on 42 and I have 1 prospect for a potential family.  But I had a dream that I would create a child out of love, not out of the need to have a baby before I die. I had a dream that I would move to Japan someday and I did. But once I settled down into this dream, I woke up after some time and it is now less lucid and euphoric than it is one of these difficult things that I put myself through to try to make my life more rich and full like graduate school.  Having a child is one of those things I long ago decided. I want to have a bilingual child because I wasn’t one. I want a mini me and a family full of all of the closeness that my own biological one failed to provide. Are these the wrong reasons or are the same selfish reasons that everyone else in the world procreates for? These reasons  were more present in my 30’s, I pushed my best friend to potentially be the gay father of my child but luckily I only pushed him away for a few years as a result of driving this plan nearly to the edge of a cliff he didn’t want to accompany me down.  We made a co-parenting pact in our 20’s, and when I tried to cash in that promise to reality we realized it wasn’t going to be the best idea.  I learned that pushing and forcing was not the way to create life not already growing inside you and ready to come out the womb. Pushing and forcing a zygote into existence usually doesn’t work, and being that we were a non hetero couple it simply wasn’t going to happen without mutual agreement and lots of effort and planning.  There were going to be no unprotected accidents between us.  I felt that at least we loved each other and had a deep long term relationship that would sustain the frail temporarality of romantic illusions. Of course if I was in the throes of the love drug endorphins it would be much easier to make bad decisions and not care in the moment of it all.   This is how half of the human population is made right? It’s not hard for me to imagine living and dying the rest of my life childless and single because the majority of my life has already been that way and it’s not been that bad. It is hard to imagine that I am actually running out of time since I’ve spent my whole life thinking about this deadline. They say the Universe knows what you want and gives you not what you want but what you need. I decided after this failed attempt with my bff as the father that I would just let things naturally unfold as they did. No force, only flow. The aforementioned 1 potential future baby plan co-signatory is someone I’ve been hanging out with intimately for just a couple months in Tokyo.  He could father our bilingual and perhaps even trilingual child, as he speaks 3 languages. He’s also half Japanese, but we aren’t in love. There are a lot of things that are not ideal about him (He is not proud of being Japanese, he drinks 2 liters of Coca Cola in one night, he smokes a lot of cigarettes and doesn’t exercise.  He isn’t spiritual.  In other words, he is not my mirror).  I feel myself looking at a situation like I would look at the text on a sperm donor description. His humanity becomes a checklist. I don’t even know him well enough to even know if this is a good idea, but I am wise enough to know exactly what it isn’t and that I would be buying a lifetime contract to amicable single parenthood where the child’s  parents would live in different countries. We don’t see each other often, but he is all that the Universe has unveiled in my path. I always hoped it would be different. Because all little girls do want to be in love and make a baby from this fairy tale place writhing in sweat and ecstasy and Tantric union. This is what I imagined in my sex magic manifestations.  But what to do if that’s just not in the hand that we have to play with, we’ve only got a bunch of pairs and nothing royal. At 42 I truly feel like everything that I ever wanted to do in my lifetime needs to be decided right now.  There’s no waiting too long. I have perhaps 1 more year or so before the clock just expires, the train leaves the station forever.  But this union doesn’t feel like the one to create a future from.  I’m not motivated to even ask him even though it has of course been on my brain and we do have unprotected sex, but he doesn’t ejaculate in me.  I’m not going to be these women in India who are 70 and mothering an infant. I’m not freezing eggs or paying any money that I don’t have to make something that will cost money to happen. That’s as stupid as taking out a loan to go to college was.  I have a friend who worked extremely hard on making her baby as a single mother from a donor from India at 42 and it finally miraculously happened; her child is beautiful, but I can’t imagine replicating that.  I’m not that driven to be a single parent.  My desire comes from wanting to NOT raise a child in the same situation I grew up in, not to replicate the struggles of my mother.   I’m in Japan working on my fluency intensely for the 2nd year consecutively (2 more years to go) and it feels like I’ve been at the same elementary level of non progress for the last year, even though I am sure that I am learning more and more every day. Fluency is part of my long term career that paves a path to work stability in ways that graduate school never did. From this comes the income to support a growing human and have a retirement plan. I have been reflecting a lot lately on how I no longer do any art or music and how I wanted so badly for that to be my career.  I visualized and chanted and sex magicked to bring into my reality the relationship that I already created in my mind….but this is what I got.   I’m grateful I have someone but it’s nothing like being in love. 

I fought so hard for decades to avoid being normal and now I live in Tokyo and I have the most normal non exciting teacher life just like I did at one time in LA.  I have a lover for the first time in nearly a year in Japan.  I’ve never been so unattractive to so many people and had so little prospects in one place in my life, so it’s at least nice to have someone to wake up with sometimes.  I’m not just with him because I don’t want to be alone.  There are other people I could have chosen for that even less than ideal position.  He is at least satisfying some desires and helping me with my fluency.  I want to say I could do better, but I obviously can’t or I would be right? He is good company, so we stay dating every two weeks.  There is no undying desire to really make a baby other than the fact that he seems to fit the description and have the chromosomes and I have the gnawing desire to appease time. And I feel like I am on my last rounds of chance…on my last songs at the dance….The film Collateral Beauty spoke through a character “Sometimes kids don’t come from you, they come through you.” in regards to different ways that people can parent.  I think I can better imagine marrying someone who already had a child and adopting that child.  It just feels better to me to have help with this parenting project than trying to do everything required alone, when already taking care of my own self is a challenge at times.


Hanami Today, Gone Tomorrow…

20180325_112706_HDRAnother Hanami season has already blown into the wind to bring on the soon to come humidity and unbearable non stop summer heat of Japanese summer.  I wish spring could stay forever. I wish cherry blossoms would stay forever, but they are almost all gone. The pink feminine beauty brought me into a new euphoric state that I haven’t felt in a really long time.  I was really not that happy before this.  Each natural element has a different energetic power. Mountains are more masculine and I feel their hardness when I stand with open arms against them, embracing them and the sky in a big grateful hug. Flowers are feminine and pink happens to be my favorite color, and Cherry blossoms the well known symbol of Japanese beauty.  There is no where better in the world to see rows of pink blossoms along the rivers and ponds, in front of usually gray and dreary buildings and the endless lines of black suited businessmen and women everywhere. For about ten days, everyone in Japan is looking up and smiling endlessly as they greet the goddess of flowers and Springtime.  It is the first time in months that visible happiness is seen and felt in the people around me. I remember being sick and depressed last year and having a similar reaction to the season, but this year was more magnificent. I appreciated every bloom and blossom and longer hour of sunlight to enjoy the trees. I thanked the trees as I walked under them at nighttime.  I visited a new spot where I hadn’t been before to view them and took lovely photos with my good camera.  It was true orgasmic ecosexuality all day and all night in Japan.  

In addition to the euphoria from the cherry blossoms, at the same time blossoming, I have called into my life a lover who is hafu Japanese like me, who speaks English and Japanese fluently and is willing to speak with me, make love to me and actually go on real dates with me. I found this person on craigslist looking for exactly this: a hafu Japanese speaking lover.  I called it into my life and before my ad got flagged and taken down (apparently you can’t search for a specific race of a person? I don’t know actually why the fuck it got flagged really other than people hating) I wound up in bed with a consistent person willing to share his native tongue with me. Ha ha. Actually his native language is Portuguese because he is half Brazilian. I am not in love, but it is much much much better than anything than I have ever had in Japan in the almost two years that I have been here so that in itself is really nice.  It’s kind of like giving a starving person a Ritz or Saltine cracker (see Eddie Murphy Raw standup) but better.  Relationships aren’t always going to bring you physical lust or an exact personality match but at this point in my life I make sure they are mutually beneficially and empowering.  We each help each other to be the best version of ourselves and they are fun and rewarding.  The thing about a craigslist ad is it is a brief paragraph and a few pictures, nothing like the okcupid profile that I have up that works well in other places aside from Japan.  My current lover is not spiritual, he doesn’t really know very much about the real me yet. He doesn’t really make too much time for me and we see each other about every other week so this is why I’m really able to keep it lightweight for now.   It works well and I am grateful to get to experience Japan with someone finally.  It’s the first time I’ve actually had someone wake up in my bed or hang out at my apartment where I live alone. I get to have screaming orgasms again which is A-MAZING and soo needed. He has a small dick, but that’s okay, the sex is still good.   His tongue works well, and even though I have to work hard to get him to remain speaking to me in Japanese with it because I’m not fluent yet, he does it and I love him more for it.  This is what makes me want to love him and hang around him more and have patience when he falls short because he is supporting me in my target language goal and also speaking one of my LOVE languages, which is being in service (see 5 LOVE LANGUAGES).   He might even be the opposite of me, which makes us a good couple.   His father is Japanese but he isn’t proud of being Japanese and he doesn’t even identify as such. He wants to identify with his Brazilian half more the way I want to identify with my Japanese half. This is an interesting contrast to me. He carries my heavy luggage down the stairs when I ask, so that alone is another refreshing change from the usual Japanese male passerbys that  usually don’t think to help at all.  We have made jokes about having a baby, which is not really a joke as my 42nd birthday draws near,  I need to seriously consider how to make my procreation of a bilingual baby come true. “If I get pregnant, I’ll be really happy.” I tell him frankly and he doesn’t protest, but we also aren’t using condoms when we fuck. I know this can be problematic, but I’m throwing a 1970s attitude to the situation because times a running out!  I’m not trying to get pregnant and I’m not not trying.  (But then there’s the STD thing, I know). Also we haven’t done a safer sex elevator talk which I just haven’t done in Japan with any of the lovers I’ve had either.  The country has made me into a quieter person, nothing like the woman I was when I left. I need to tell him I have herpes and I need to go get tested with him too.  Wouldn’t want our baby to have HIV afterall!  



How to lure the goddess into the light when she is the light


Wild Wild Country came out on Netflix, and I’ve been reading the trains of Tokyo with Osho’s book Love, Freedom and Aloneness instead of use my smart phone during the sometimes gruelling commutes between clients.  My kettai’s been acting up and not holding a charge so the switch to paper back seemed like the wisest move to save my SUMAHO time to only the most essential of uses.  I spend at least ten hours on the trains of Tokyo going from school to client to home between the hours of 7:30am in the crushing rush hour of Japan where even getting out your phone to read is impossible.  For fifteen minutes while you are smashed against twenty other Tokyo-ites all you can do is sometimes look at the ceiling of the train car, you can breathe in and out, but most times you can’t even do that as the weight of the person in front and back of you is preventing proper respiration.  If you are short like me, sometimes your view of the ceiling is obstructed and you are just looking straight into someone’s piece of clothing, examining it close up for 15 or so minutes. Finally Shibuya station and about 50 people pour out of the doors of the train car that I have become one with.   Rapid pouring out onto the platform and into two or four orderly lines: two up the escalator and two more thicker but less organized lines up the stair cases. I don’t HATE anything usually, but I definitely definitely HATE Tokyo train rush hour. In WWCountry, I’m learning things about America that I didn’t know before.  I had no idea of this part of Oregon’s history. I hadn’t even heard of Osho before I started to explore Tantra five years ago. Dr. Seuss said,”Why fit in, when you’re born to stand out?” and I have always always been a unique person since my childhood born and raised in the San Francisco Bay Area.  Seuss motto supports weirdos like me, American culture values individualism to a degree, but not as much as most people might think, as I never really felt like I was “normal” or “average” as an American either.  In the Osho Ashram in Oregon, all the members (Rajneeshees) wore variations of orange and pink. It looks a lot like what you are given to wear when you enter a Korean spa, something like medical scrubs, unisex, comfortable and not sexy.  I watch this with fascination as I know already that if any religion or spiritual center told me that I had to wear a certain outfit, I’d be out the door after that meeting never to return. It is very interesting being a Tantrika in Japan watching this documentary and trying to read the Japanese subtitles as a form of studying.  To my pleasant surprise, I am actually keeping up at the speed of the subtitles and learning how to say phrases that I need in my life in Japan to describe my spiritual experience. The Japanese motto regarding standing out is in a proverb that everyone knows too well “ 出る杭は打たれる (deru kui wa utareru: the nail that sticks out gets pounded down).  I have felt sooo pounded down in the last six months working and hustling in cold and busy Tokyo. I have been cursed to repeat my high school feelings of not or never being able to fit in or not or never being able to be appreciated for who I am, and feeling attractive and full of self love but somehow not being attractive to anyone around me, or anyone that I would regard as worth my time.  The entire existence of Japan was born from the sun goddess Amaterasu, the first Emperor considered a grandson of the descendant of this goddess. Legend has it that Amaterasu hid in a cave, disgusted with her partner’s bickering, thus causing a constant darkness to fall over the earth. The other gods had to lure her out with a mirror. Apologists for Japanese society swear to me that the goddess is still living in Japan but I find the presence of the divine light in the eyes of the people that walk the crowded streets next to me, that push their existence against me without acknowledgement of each other’s humanity nor of their divinity leads me to constantly depress into a cave…but recently with the bloom of pink cherry blossoms all over the, tunnels of feminine beauty adorn the trees and skies above me and I am, for now, revived and charged with ecosexual energy in Japan.  For once in a long while, I see people exuding happiness everywhere I look, in awe of something bigger than their salaries.  There is a reason that Japan is called “sexless” by the media and that the population is signaling a dire need in a change of the way things have been done since World War Two.  It is time to change again for the sake of the existence of the goddess.  Although many Japanese think that I am merely being critical of Japan without the same realization of the shortcomings of America, the same is going on with the goddess in the U.S and quite possibly all over the world.  The time has come for changes to finally be made everywhere, a country and society that does not realize the power of the sun and the power of the goddess will inevitably perish in darkness.  28618849_10213703895024873_1084500047103387336_o



Japan is kicking my ass and I need to get programmed to fight the funk like a samurai warrior.  I’ve been listening to all my youtube coaching gurus so that I can get my mind in the right state to conquer like I did once before.  I had an interview today and the director asked me “How do you like Japan?” “It’s difficult.” I said. I’m not going to lie and be a pretend to be content IMG_5527Japanese.  I’m not Japanese. Fuck the bullshit. I’ll never be Japanese. They’ve told me this over and over again in so many ways. You have to actually check a box that says “non-Japanese” when you want to participate in things.  They recruit you with the words “non Japanese” and I know what they mean when they ask.  I’m half Japanese, but I’m not real Japanese.  They say it’s about your passport, but there are white people with Japanese passports and they’re not real Japanese either.  They say it’s about your bloodline, but my mom is Japanese and that’s not good enough either.   It’s about how you look and how you act.  And mostly its about who is looking.  Always about who is looking and what they think.   What a wicked curse that all my life I wanted to be more Japanese. All my life, I dreamed of living in Japan and now I live in Japan and…it feels like I enlisted in the military and went back to high school and graduate school all over again emotionally.  Everything that I thought I was is being torn down and stripped away and I am being tested yet again. Just like the military, you are conditioned to believe YOU. AIN’T. SHIT.  No one is special here.  There is no goddess. You are part of the whole.  The whole is #1, if you choose to believe it.   I’m interviewing this week because the job that I had which paid the base of my rent laid me off.  This job that put me through hell and took me through the same agony as when I was a first year teacher in South Central crying over lesson plans closed its program on the campuses that I worked at.  But I am grateful actually. I learned a new system of teaching kids in Japan and its worth more than my Master’s Degree. I went from hopeless and frustrated about how to implement this system with no training to being able to plan 4 classes on my commute on the train with my smart phone while standing up.  The change from hopeless to mastery happened much faster than my first year of teaching. I did it without adequate mentorship and I did it without medical marijuana everyday like I did first year teaching. Japan is so much like high school for me as well. I didn’t thrive in high school, I graduated as soon as I could.  I knew by year 3 that it wasn’t working for me, so I worked to figure out the requirements to get out earlier than my senior year. Japan, like high school is a rigid social system that doesn’t hold space for not fitting in the mold. Even if you don’t fit the mold, you have to fit the mold of people who don’t fit the mold.  They sit together in the cafeteria or smoke pot together in the parking lot. Japan, like high school doesn’t know what to do with someone like me, so it ignores me.  I walk through the Shibuya crowds unnoticed.  I talk to no one for hours unless I am teaching them, I go out to clubs and the only time I have a laugh with a friendly person is when I am texting someone from the U.S on Facebook.  If a stranger talks to me, it is to ask me if I am waiting for the bathroom. This was a lot like high school for me. I was a loner. I went home after I played volleyball, I sang in front of the school, i did well academically, I wore cute clothes but I didn’t have many real friends.  Never had a high school boyfriend. Guys made out with me for fun but they never dated me. I have never been to a high school reunion because I don’t care about any of those people and vice versa. I”m not even remotely curious about people from this period of my life. It feels like this one episode I saw of The Twilight Zone where the outcast was ignored because he had some V on his forehead.  What I have grown to believe were universal human needs are not the same in Japan. Apparently they do not need to communicate like I do, they don’t need to touch, they don’t need weed or small talk with strangers. I’m happy when I am teaching English because that’s when it is okay to be me a little bit. I have a humorous presentation in English. People chat and laugh with me, it feels..”normal” for  a few hours. But after that (bell rings) the V goes back on my forehead and I am back into the masses. The drudge of the black suited workers that line up on the escalator, wait for the bus, silent on the train with masks over their face, never looking at each other. Never even showing empathy with their eyes that we are smashed against each other and that my asthmatic lungs are getting crushed just to get to work.  Its humbling me for sure, but I fear that it is killing my soul. I fear that it is taking everything that was once sacred and beautiful out of me and turning it into their darkness. I have a great smile. It is bright and energetic and I love using it. But, in Tokyo I don’t get to smile so much. And if I do, it’s is ignored or instructed to be put away.

“I think everybody should get rich and famous and do everything they ever dreamed of so they can see that it’s not the answer.”  Jim Carrey.


thegoddess is dead in Japan

When I say thegoddess is dead in Japan, I don’t mean that Japanese are not spiritual people.  Many of them are, many of them aren’t, just like many countries.  There is definitely a pervasive form of spirituality that Japan has in its landscape that Christian influenced countries do not have.  When I say thegoddess is dead, I mean the idea of a divine form embodying a human one, is non existent.  Women have no pull and no power here.  The mother cannot ask for recognition for bearing and raising kids anymore than the salary man can ask for recognition for supporting the family.  This is what you are supposed to do.  Don’t you dare ask for credit for what you are supposed to do.  If a woman dressed unique, sexy or something beautiful, not a single man will turn his head.  They will look from the reflection of the glass  in their phones or out of the corner of their eyes, but they will never say a thing. Silence is a cultural norm here, even when 6 people standing on a train almost fall on top of each other.  (This really happened the other day and me out of 6 was the only person who uttered any sounds)  One of my friends called Japanese men “soft” but I think “soft” sounds fluffy and nice and cute, like a cloud.  The majority of Japanese men that I see are spineless and oblivious, like earthworms.  Earthworms are not shy they’re spineless.  and they don’t like light either.  Shy is not the word for them.  So suspend me to the ceiling and spin me around a few times, parade me like rotisserie flesh for the horny eyes of the men in the room.  They are looking now but I don’t care.  All I wanted was for someone to buy me a drink, hold open a door, offer to carry a bag, compliment my outfit or my smile…

YOU be the radiant light and those that can see it will be attracted to it!!  It doesn’t work here in Japan.   Don’t give me your fucking bumper sticker quotes that apply to your life in a non Asian or non Muslim or some other country without similar restrictions.  Save your privilege for your Instagram quotes.   

I want to hear you tell me to “just love myself” as much as I want to hear some blissed out foolio tourist high on Enjoy Japan talk about his recent trip to Tokyo (Japan is sooo clean and organized!  I love it!)  randomly messaging me as some form of flirtation. Screenshot_2018-03-03-17-49-00 The only beings that are attracted to my light are moths.  Drunken moths are one step higher than earthworms as at least they take action even if it kills them.  After I was taken down from the suspension, I went to the bathroom.  I was met there by 2 Japanese men.  I decided to see what the 3 men at the bar could possibly do for me, so I asked one of the guys to get the German man who was speaking to me at the bar.  I hadn’t had sex with 3 guys before, and usually at random times my experimental daring gets the best of me, and since i was just suspended from the ceiling I was high on endorphins and adventure.  I am usually interested in exploring that I have never had before once, just for the sake of it.  It is the new thrill that I like, the sex just comes with it sometimes.  I called the German guy down to the sex room, not because I wanted anything more than a new experience in life.  And definitely after about 20 minutes of my vagina being sucked by an octopus and pussy smashed with inflatable toy hammers at an arcade silently by three guys,  I went back upstairs with a What the hell was that shit? feeling.  It was like blowing three mannequins in a department store elevator (sounds exciting?  Its actually not).  Shaking my head at the huuuuge gap of reality between the porn I masturbate to and the reality I have experienced.   After the two Japanese men ejaculated they disappeared without saying a word, leaving me and the German guy alone to speak in English.  Sex with him was terrible as well.  He wasn’t even aware his dick wasn’t inside of me most of the time and he was moaning to appease my need for “some sound” but I could tell it was fake because he was missing his target completely and oblivious to it.   It was not even my imagination, I really felt nothing from all three of them.  The whole event was one of the worst sexual experiences I’ve ever had inclusive of all of the prostitution I have ever done to date and that, is some seriously, bad sex.  I could never have bad sex as a sex worker as long as I got paid and it wasn’t an assault, because my job was to make money, orgasms were icing on the cake.  This recent night was the equivalent to donating my body to being poked by preteen virgins in a sex lab for free so i felt really unamused after it was over.  Disgusted with the Japanese guys who went quickly up to the bar without even a word and who did not even acknowledge me again at all after that.  I forced myself in their faces, “That was rude.” i said.  “No, no, that was our Ometenashi” the one guy that I actually was attracted to out of the 3 said to me.  Ometanashi my ass.  I said shaking my head.  ( You call that Japanese hospitality, do you?  I call it rude and fucking ridiculous).   This is the symbolic meaning of being tied and suspended in Kinbaku for me.  A performance piece is being written with my life experiences, right alongside this blog.  Butoh is another thing I got to experience living in Japan, like Kinbaku rope play, and the uneventful sexual experiment that followed, I had to come to Japan to have access.

The German guy stayed with me and talked with me, bought me a drink, walked me to the train station in the morning and was aching to continue our “adventure” but it was no longer an adventure but a sex tragedy of epic proportions that I’d soon forget quicker if he wasn’t actually trying to walk me to the train station and attempt to stay in touch.  But wasn’t this the chivalry you said you wanted goddess? He tried to hold my hand and I pulled it away.  You can’t move from terrible sex to holding hands in one hour.  I was not interested in dating him.  Take him on as long term coaching client, yes.  Date him, no.   If he reads this and his ego can handle it, then he’ll consider some serious sexual awareness lessons.  My boyfriends and lovers need to be of a certain sexual standard that my clients often are not.   I can be compassionate in the professional container.  Empathy and recovery from unbelievably terrible sex only comes after love and relationship are established and it can’t happen the other way around, even for a Tantrika because I am MOSTLY human.   thegoddess light was needed to love me, myself and I only and deeply to recover from that clown show (and yes, I DO LOVE MYSELF very very much, Thank you bumper stickers for the reminder).   I had gone in, in, inward and was not feeling namaste or like seeing the god in anyone but myself.  At that point, 5:30am Shinjuku train station cold and hungry, waiting for the first train of the day,  I just wanted to be in my bed alone.   I am thankful that the German guy wasn’t Japanese because then I can’t blame the whole incident entirely on Japanese dicks.  Regardless, it still gets chalked up as an interesting sex experience I could only have in Japan.  And still gets counted as the worst sex I’ve had in 41 years.  


Suspended p1

tumblr_musx1vL9gE1qiz6eho1_500So last night, I experienced my first suspension bondage and it felt great. It was an extremely Tantric sexual energy experience. My meditation skills extremely useful, breathing in and out, releasing boundaries by being bonded, giving total trust in a safe container, endurance of any discomfort which leads to peace and flow, the feeling of weightlessness in your body and mind.  Your nose is not really itchy.  Relax.  It too will pass.   It was something like a symbolic ritual for how I feel about living in Japan. Great admiration to those who can hold this for hours or do other sexual activities during this…the Tantric part of it is that it is enough in itself. There is a distinct RISE, CLIMAX and release. Every moment is beautiful as it is. Moment to moment breathing and loving.  When you look at this photo, do you imagine how she actually feels?  Can you imagine what sensations she feels?  Everyone in the bar has their eyes on me, but I am not doing it for them.  I came to Japan to experience underground culture at its finest and all its grotesque realities.  I’ve come to a place as a goddess to an island that was just opened to outside contact not more than 165 years ago.   They cling to this  history as their reason for late adoption of certain morality.  The general age of consent is 13, however the corruption of minors laws make having sex with or marrying someone under 18 in certain areas like Tokyo illegal.  The known age of adulthood  in Japan is legally 20 for alcohol and social ceremonial recognition.  This contradiction could explain why there are legal cafes where high school girls can chat with older men with exemption and why high school girls uniforms and white panties are portrayed en masse in the anime of Japan.  I often feel like Andrea Dworkin over here watching their pixelated rape culture norm porn flicks with a scowl.  Anime and AV (Porn) are not the norm and these cafes aren’t exactly bold and open about their offerings, it is still the underbelly of sex culture, and every culture porn and media undoubtedly reflects aspects of reality.  They do usually have a high school girl outside waving to passerbys, and inside, it is not more than a what you see is what you get deal, not a “girlfriend experience” euphemism, to my knowledge but I’m sure there are exceptions.   If I watch anime on Japanese Netflix I find it hard to watch the sexualization of high school girls who are portrayed in a way that is completely opposite of the reality of what I see everyday around me in Japan.  They are portrayed with 38DD silicone like breasts popping out of their shirts and super short skirts revealing their panties with every movement.  Again, the norm of anime is not reality.  Japan’s repressed sexuality is what pervades the trains and streets.   American sexuality and contradiction will quicker reveal some actual teens all Miley Cyrus’ed out in shopping malls across America, fraught with its own repression and fantasy about adolescence, but mainstream TV and billboards could not be splashing Barely legal cartoons everywhere without protest these days.   The anime fantasy of Japan’s perverted mind looks NOTHING like what I’ve observed with any high school uniform wearing youth.  You might see a clip on hair extension or two, exposed kneecaps and calves in the dead of winter, but the girls uniform skirts are too long to reveal white panties, and most of the students aren’t even allowed to dye their hair let alone alter their uniform to have any sense of deviance, and some uniforms have built in navy outer pants to cover their underpants.   

What does this have to do with me, the 41 year old goddess of Japanese descent?  I feel like thegoddess is DEAD in Japan.  Women are no more special than men here, in fact they are less than men in all areas and not lauded for the more than half of the sky that they do hold up.  Japan was born from the SUN goddess and then Taoism and Buddhism changed religion and spirituality in Japan into a male dominated arena.  Today, the state of women and girls in Japan is ranked one of the lowest of first world nations, the majority of women quit working to raise children between the age of 25-30 while male partners support the family often working 6 days a week with unpaid overtime.  Male dominated media will take advantage of the culture’s built in silence and shame to create an environment that intimidates resistance.  Gas lighting, shame, pitting groups against one another to avoid real issues are typical.  The nail that sticks out gets hammered down.  A Black-American friend also living in Japan joked that for a woman to come to Japan to find a partner would be like him trying to go to South Africa during apartheid.  “Why do women even come here?” he laughed.   Because it’s just like the U.S.A, people of color visit and think its not going to be so bad; racism and bigotry not apparent while on vacation….


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