Okay, to start: Japan is wonderful.  Japan has a culture, and a history, that fascinates a planet.  Japan rebuilt itself, and its very identity, from the ashes of World War II—to become Asia's only first world country.  Japan is a nation–virtually–without crime.  The Japanese, themselves, are incredibly healthy (I remember a married couple, on tv, both 100 (!!), JOGGING down the street.  (!!!!)).  And their health care system, is–arguably–the best in the world.  Their cultural influence, cannot be underestimated: Over 10% of their (prodigious) gross national product, is . . . anime.  Yes. Anime.

      Japan's economy is bustling.  One of the amazing things about Japan, is that people of every age and generation, have money—young, old, and every in-between.  (To an American, this is . . . extraordinary.)  Japan has small-scale construction going on, everywhere, and all the time—a further sign, of economic health.  To quote a Malaysian ex-pat, living there, "Japan is the most advanced nation on the planet." and, later, "The Japanese consider money easy-peasy; it is so easy to make."  He was an undergrad, working a part time job.  He told me, he had probably 50,000 USD, in savings.  Now imagine THAT.

      There's the good; now here's the bad.

Japan will kick your ass, in ways you can't even imagine.

      The "social pressure," of Japan, defies imagination.  –Even if one lived in New York [City], one could only expect, something like, 1,000 social interations a day.  In Japan, one can experience that many, in 15 minutes—literally.

      Rarely (if ever) have I actually wanted to die.  Shopping in Shinjuku, at rush hour, I was desperate for it.  I wanted my body–"gloriously and righteously made"–to be destroyed—so my torment could end.  I envisioned jumping, joyfully, into a grinding, pulverizing abattoir—only my neck and head, above, to view my joyous destruction, and an end to my torment.

      I'm completely serious.  Alien creatures, in an alien hive, communicating in an alien manner.  And no, I don't mean Japanese–I've studied Japanese, for over 14 years, I'm reasonably fluent in Japanese–I mean, huddled over these electronic devices—perpetually chattering back and forth on them.

      Incomprehesible, labrynthine aisles (It took minutes to find the entrance to the registers, from the exit [of them].), impossibly unmanageable inventories, and no conceivable organization. And here's the rub.  They're not looking for anything; they are just . . . shopping.

      I understand it all, now—hikikomori, the young man who committed suicide, rather than shop in one more store with his girlfried (Yes. That really happened). . . .  I can't help but understand it.

      And even after forcing my way out of there, and getting undergound—I wasn't safe.  Beneath the ground was a shopping mall—extending farther even than the eye could see.  And trying to get into the the station, we ended up in . . . another shop.

      I take comfort, now; that nothing in life, could even possibly be worse.  If I spend my final days of life, withering on a cancer deathbed, screaming in pain . . . I will take comfort—at least I'm not shopping in Shinjuku, during rush hour.

      Not only will Japan overcome any other country or culture in any zero-sum game, with clear rules—they could also, conceivably win any war.  –No need for weapons; they could overcome them, exclusively, with their rush hour crowds.

      And for decades, now, I had wanted to travel to Akihabara.

      Suddenly, inimaginably, I was there.

Conditions there, were such, that I despaired even of life itself.

      Worth mentioning, was visiting a "maid's cafe."  It was one of (perhaps the) strangest experiences of my life.  A bunch of Japanese girls, dressed up as Cinderella, singing karoke, and then showing a video, of a nurse making out with a patient on a bed (I looked over at Laura, and said I needed some "intensive care."  I think she threatened to SMACK me. . . .), followed by blood gushing out everywhere, from an IV bag.

Odd.

      And that's just the social pressure.  Japan will be one travel crisis after another.  And Japan has over twice the standard of living of the United States; Japan will challenge you financially—more than you would ever expect.

      And the diet of Japan–whilst astonishingly healthy for the Japanese themselves–if you attempt to subsist on it–you will weaken, wither, and, eventually, die.  Seriously. Now, if it makes you feel any better (And it most certainly does NOT in my case), our diet kills them, as well—albeit quite a bit more slowly.

      And Japan will kick your ass physically.  I'm almost amazingly fit for my age (I run marathons.)—however, after two weeks in Japan, I had what appeared to be bronchitis, I was periodically passing blood in my urine (dysuria)—and I very well may have had (another) heart attack.

      Take my advice . . . enjoy Japan—from a distance.

      All that said, on the last evening, we climbed up to the top level of a store, [that was] attached to a train station, and found a quiet corner in the storm.  Two guys looked at us funny—and then moved on.  I thought it was some type of LGBT theatre; Laura said it was for anime.  Regardless, we found a quiet moment, in the heart of Tokyo, and were able to take a picture of a full moon.  Peaceful. Timeless. Beautiful.

It was Japan saying goodbye.

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