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August is peak summer season in Japan.  We can look forward to some of the most spectacular fireworks displays and festivals in the world, ...

Japanese Boy

Hey Japanese boy!

What are you doing?   You look so cute with those wanton eyes and little red hat.   Are you a good little boy?   It's no coincidence the reason you are so beautiful is because your mother's face, over time,  has worn upon you.   You have never seen evil, not a day in your tender little life.    Peach fuzz still around your little potato shaped balls,  shrunken up inside.   Are you a xenophile?  Do you celebrate Christmas and Easter, too?

The red  crown you wear upon your head and the school girl dress draped down your slender body are not only emblematic, they're symptomatic of the ills of the land of your ancestors.  I presume because of its cultural association, which often times  young Japanese attach to every thing that's cool and girly, you would call me a liar if I told you otherwise.    

I should know, for I have tasted of mommy's girliness, her sweet nectar, that is.   And, sweet nectarine she is, and I have attached cultural vanities that may or may not be culturally relevant in modern day Japan - if there is even such a term.

You are a moral relativist, much like I am, but that's not why I am writing to you today.   I like you as a person....  But, you have proven to be quit a nuisance lately.    You see.... It's .... Well.....  You need to get a fucking job and move out.   Ok?  Is that clear enough?   You have been interfering with me and your mothers  love life you spoiled little brat, and dog on it, I have grown sick and tired of muffling her noises because you want to sneak a peak through the sliding paper doors.   It's not hard to hear the creaking in the wood flooring, and the nervous little breathes from far off through your semi-congested  nose.    What, you think I don't hear you?

When I'm sitting at the dinner table; when I'm showering; when I'm entering from the place where you were born?   Is there some fascination there?   How cute is it?   I don't blame you though....It's because she dotes on you day and night.   And you know she does it, and you use her because of it in order to get your way.   And I can see the dilated pupils in your eyes staring back at me and telling me " yes, I know what you are trying to do!   But, I'm two or three steps ahead of you.   You are the source of my masturbatory fantasies, because I have never looked upon the nakedness of a female.   I'm too Japanese for that."

"I can't relax when the both of you are here.   I'd rather go to your place.    I feel so much more at ease," she says.   Bulox.   I like your place, it's much more relaxing and the meals you make for me are amazing, why come to my place.  

Theme Music for this post:  Simple Minds, Belfast Child

Japanese boy,   you have never seen a dark cloud in your life.  You have only tasted of your mothers kindness. You see, you were crafted in her womb, and from birth institutionalized into a society that gave you a clear set of requirements to satisfy.   You most likely weaned yourself off of her breast milk and then placed yourself  under group - control so that your thinking would harmonize with the rest of society, she helped you get that way too.   She made you what your father was, is, and inevitably will become, even in death.   She raised you to tow the line.   But, you appear confused because you do not know why.   Not one single patriotic bone in your tender body.  Yet, you know something is down there, in your heart, but you can't quit seem to put your penis on it.

In order to better understand you I feel down the  canal from which you were delivered forth from.   Its smooth moist layers have never changed.    For she hasn't been touched since you were born.  I dare say!  But I love the Japanese, the pure blood types who can do no wrong.   I have sought to understand you through the womb of my own desires and through your mothers womb.   Through my engorgement as the veins pierce through the thin flesh.  The expanding walls are accommodating.   I feel like I'm at home.   Like I can stretch my legs and arms, and lay my head back and sigh a breathe of releaSe.

I know much more about why you are ruined.    I also know why you will never be as ambitious as your forefathers.   I know why you are so henpecked, and weak kneed.   I know why you lack interest in chasing young women, too.   I know why you sleep in all day.  I know why you have no dreams.   I know why refuse to move out.  I know why.   For it is the reason for my own ruin.   Mother Jukujo.

She made sure you were fed the best rice, and that your meals were always prepared meticulously - even when she had a part-time job.   She does your laundry, cleanse your room, and scratches your itchy spot.  She nags at you, but that's because it's her nature.  You tell her to fuck off, and she does.   She never stops loving you and sacrificing for you.    You are the least bit grateful because you assume it's the natural thing for a mother to do.     Your world, Japanese boy, is grand!   I can be you any day.

You have no care in the world, and couldn't care less about the realities of the world.    Men have died ten times over while you were fast asleep in your warm little bed.    You are protected and safe from all forms of danger, seen and unseen.   You are nurtured and well looked after.   Your mother's countenence has shone brightly upon your face Japanese boy.   You look so sweet.    You still smell of sweet similac, but we all know how awful that taste - well, at least I know.   Your only deficiency is that you weren't fed enough of mom's natural goodness, and this is why your body  and mind are so fucking weak.    You prefer drinking milk from a nasty cow's ass, like your master Alfred Bosworth and his minions forced upon you and your ignorant post Macarthur brain dead grannies, who too followed the status quo.    Now look at how frail you are, sixty years later, and generation after generation.....   Japan's culture of breastfeeding dates back thousands of years whereby kids were fed up into their adolescent years, which is somewhere between where puberty begins, to pre- adulthood.    This used to be the norm.

You should've never gone on the bottle.   Now, here you are confused, and exhibiting an air of self-confidence and being a do-gooder, but deep down inside you can never seem to get enough of mother, that's why you seek out women who resemble your mother.     You see, Japanese boy, everybody else can hypothesis about why you are the way you are today.   The herbivore man, the socially inept man, the insecure man, the momma's boy.   The journalist and pseudo-psychobabilist tell us that it's the demands of society, economy, and all sort of  bullshit about you being let down by your country.    This is all bullshit.

Truth is, is that you have an underdeveloped mind that has been weakened by the institution that programmed you.   You latch on to fantasies and other shit that do not exist in the real world because you weren't breastfed enough proteins and brain cell stuff from your mother's breast.    You are emotionally and chemically imbalanced because  of a lack neurological  enzymes which are critical for self awareness.   And then if that's not enough  the left wing influenced Board of Education doesn't  help with their defiance against national protocol.

                                                                              I am a boob, aren't I ?

Japanese boy.

1 comment:

  1. This blog site would be great if you left off this bizarre social and sexual editorial stuff and stuck with your strong points: sake, food, onsen, and travel.



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