08
Jan
18

2017: My 1st year of Japan residency comes to an end

s-New-Years-card2017 comes to an end at midnight and I am putting Kabuki Kumadori makeup on my face.  The Japanese tradition of visiting a temple at midnight with crowds of people who pray at midnight silently as the year changes from rooster to dog.  I sat in lotus in my Tokyo apartment, and rang my healing bowls, focusing inwards and honoring my own body temple.  I was preparing myself for a burlesque performance at a nightclub in Shibuya that I have been to a few times.  A place where there were going to be familiar faces and friendly people and most importantly free admission because I knew one of the DJs.  I didn’t feel like spending lots of money or pushing past obnoxious people as New Year’s Eve in all big cities around the world are guaranteed to be, especially not through Shibuya which is a Christmas shopping crowd in America every single day.  As I walked towards the club from the train someone pulled me back from my backpack straps aggressively.  I was starting to feel the acid that I took so I didn’t feel like talking English or Japanese.  I was assessing what he wanted and if I needed to be alarmed or just remain blank as I was.  “Hey, can I take a picture with you?” the young Japanese asshole asked.  I really wish I could have the same responses to tell someone off in Japanese in these same situations as I do in English, but in general in the last five years, I’ve not really been a confrontational person, and Japan has truly made me quieter and less confrontational on top of holding a walking meditative stance as a Tantrika.  Thegoddess deescalates by reflecting calm.  26172487_10213003257389370_1062889378776343392_oDude clocks me as a foreigner because of my costume, because a Japanese person would not dare wear something like what I was wearing.  A women’s summer yukata, kimono over jeans and a sweatshirt in the winter and a male actors makeup scheme, but that was exactly my point in presentation.  I wasn’t going to try to be Japanese or fit in tonite, I was going to be 2000% Mariko Passion for the first time in a great long time in Japan.  If i was in America, they’d think I was dressed like a geisha because that’s the most popular kimono association foreigners have about Japan usually, which is why I hate being called a foreigner.   I often don a gender queer presentation when I feel like fucking with mainstream society.  I do it in Los Angeles and I do it in Tokyo.  It is a reflection of fearlessness and a return to my inner I don’t give a fuck.  In Japan, everything is about what everybody else thinks about you.  Your success in business and social circles has to do with how you carry yourself at moments when you think you aren’t being watched, at moments when you should have a right to act as you feel is natural to do, it is a Matrix that is enforced by the mainstream here, deeper and more restrictive than any American society in existence.  If you don’t feel that in Japan yet, then you are still obviously a tourist enjoying Japan.  Being a resident alien is something totally different.  The vacation is over.  You better get to where you need to go and not get lost because you need to show up ten minutes early and stay late and be happy about it.   Realness and the oppression of women and everyone who doesn’t act like a right acting 100% “normal” Japanese citizen hasn’t stripped away your enjoy-ment just yet. As a tourist, ometenashi is still being bestowed on you as a guest in the country, you aren’t being constantly treated like you are invisible or that you need to apologize for your own existence at every moment.  My sisters and I could never understand why my mother carried such a heavy burden of caring about what everyone else thought before herself, even fifty years after she had long left Japan and become an American citizen with suitable English competency and 3 Americanized kids, her Japaneseness was still deeply ingrained in her.  The culture you were born and raised in never leaves your consciousness I suppose, and that was my biggest problem in Japan.  As a hafu Japanese, I am able to blend half the time when I want to but most of the time conforming doesn’t suit me anywhere I go in the world and the artist in me wants to free myself of my shackles, which would often happen even in the so called land of the free.  I am of different subcultures and nations, gender expressions and desires rolled up into something that shouldn’t be figured out.  I asked the promoter on New Years Eve if I could jump up on the poles they had at the club and dance for people all night.  He wasn’t going to pay me but I still needed to let him know because I was dressing up and probably showing more of my body than most people in the club that night.  I still had 6 inch red stiletto stripper heels and I didn’t forget how to dance in them with shameless confidence that no born Japanese girl without tattoos and sex work experience could ever imagine in her wildest dreams and that’s why most of my fans that night were women.  I was releasing sexual frustration out on Japanese society.  To me it was unfathomable that I couldn’t date who I wanted and capture the attention of men and women in a big bad metropolitan city like Tokyo.  Was everyone just a silent salary man throwing up on the train in his man purse?  I had dated a few Japanese men as my mission to learn the language so I have gained my frustration through experience.  I’ve chatted with women and non Japanese residents on dating sites and tried to date them too without great luck.  I continue to daily remind myself that the romantic relationship I have already created for myself is on its way.  This night was about dancing my kimono off and channeling all my pent up sexual frustration trying to survive in this society, being grateful for all that I am and all that I have learned.  The release had nothing to do with getting laid.  I can get laid in Tokyo if I wanted to have a little Japanese dog humping my leg and call that sexual satisfaction which was nothing close to the Tantric unions that I was fueled from.  Kekko desu, I pass.  The way that men nanpa in Japan just doesn’t make me want to move or open, so I am often alone here.   I want to worshipped as the goddess that I am by a god, by the reflection of my own greatness, but I seem unable to find them in Japan.   But, for once, tonite at the club, I was basking in the light of my glory, honoring my body temple, giving others permission to be themselves and showing them how to do it.   Interestingly enough in the U.S, nipples and alcohol are illegal but not in Japan.  But because Japan pushes everyone’s emotions and sexuality into a small box, and everyone is effectively controlled by their ties to jobs or family, most people do not step out of line out of fear of losing one of those connections and being shunned into further invisibility than daily life can be.  Japan has one of the highest suicide rates in the country, and though I came here with a dream and i made it come true, the reality of daily life and the matrix web wiping the smile off of my face after some time of being ignored and not seen for weeks and then months.  You are not special in Japan.  No one is special in Japan.  ONLY Japan is special, and if you can force yourself to be part of the whole, then you can access that specialness too, conditionally.  I have meditated back into alignment finally after the funeral of the eldest sibling of my mother reminded me of these family ties that bind in a way that you can never escape, in a way that you can never be independent or make mistakes, be adult or even be your own person.  It is an immense amount of pressure to hold.  If you jump in front of a train to kill yourself, your family will be sued by the Tokyo government for disrupting everyone else’s working schedule probably until they also die, and yet these kinds of suicides are the most commonplace occurrance.  It’s made me rethink staying here, but still I know that it was the law of attraction and positive vibrations and determination that got me all that I have in Japan and it will be that same determination which will bring everything else that I desire to fruition, so it is my job to radiate that my needs are already met and breathe that in as real.  I am beyond nationality and gender.  I am not a slave to the matrix, I am just dropping in.  


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