#2002.09.21

Updated site : new translation

“Repentance in the Bathroom”

The bathroom floor. Today’s repentance flowing down the drain. Sins diminishing in the gentle sound of water. Wanting to whisper on and on to someone, The demons in me rustle. The pure white light was like vertigo.

Hey, My heart thaws and flows away to someplace cold.

Mercilessly, I wash myself.

Updated translation : new site

“Singin’ in the Rain”

A sky that’s lower than usual. It’s a little lonely. With downcast eyes, I walk. Raindrops came down. They become round marks. Left behind on the grey road. I smile within my umbrella, hidden so as not to be seen.

The rain keeps coming. I’m playing “Singin’ in the Rain,” And everything before me turns blurry.

Threads of rain. The color of tears. (Who’s crying?) Left shoulder getting wet. Today is like a film I saw long ago And I try to lock it within a frame I make with my hands. I hear the sound of the raindrops from within my umbrella, gently, one-by-one.

The rain keeps coming. I’m playing “Singin’ in the Rain,” And everything before me turns blurry. The rain keeps coming. I’m playing “Singin’ in the Rain,” And everything before me turns blurry. The raindrops leave behind small, round flowers, Which are blooming and spreading out up above the road.

Blooming and spreading.

Updated translation : new site

“Red Shoes”

It’s just like a nonsensical scribble. The model of a heart. What can I talk about? The tangled thread won’t come undone.

Blunt scissors with a dull shine. When they make a noise———.

It’s heard far away. Someone is being kidnapped, like in “Red Shoes.” A fickle daydream. The end draws near, so I’ll write a letter later.

I don’t hate lies either, if it means we don’t get hurt. What can I talk about? I looked through a picture book, but…

It always tears. The black goat bleated. A piano wire snapped———.

It’s heard far away. Someone is being kidnapped, like in “Red Shoes.” A fickle daydream. The end draws near, so I’ll write a letter later.

Blunt scissors with a dull shine. When it makes a noise———.

Updated translation : new site

A little past midday, a hot afternoon. “I could go for a Calpis,” I yearn, flying along on my rattling bicycle. Summer is starting to wane, and there was a nice, chilly feeling When I circled the stopped fountain and counted the drops of water that shouldn’t be there.

I want to talk to someone. If this builds, it’s going to blow. My cellphone’s battery is running low. The call delayed and then just gave up.

That sort of feeling… for some reason it’s like floating. Like a glider. Soaring with sentimentality. I’m a glider.

Although the illusion immediately breaks, Although the illusion immediately breaks,

That sort of feeling… for some reason it’s like floating. Like a glider. Soaring with sentimentality. I’m a glider. So I’ll fly over there. So I’ll fly over there. Like this, look. Like this, look———.

Updated translation : new site

“Science Room”

I stared outside from the science room. The sports field is empty. I simply make as if to strike a flame. To ashes it all burns———.

Shifting, shifting, your smiling face warped. Steadily, steadily, until I can’t see it. Why, why are the tears falling? It’s impossible to understand, but I don’t really need an answer, so I look up at the sky.

Fake words and emotions are mixed inside the flask. Reducing and eliminating. As if I’m white chalk.

Showing through, showing through, I can see it gleaming. Too anxious, too anxious, I can hardly think. And so, and so my idle thoughts are in the place farthest away. That has to be, Probably, your heart———.

I’ve heard that understanding is love. If that’s true, then everyone will be alone. Forever and ever.

Shifting, shifting, your smiling face warped. Steadily, steadily, until I can’t see it. Why, why are the tears falling? I don’t really need an answer!

Showing through, showing through, I can see it gleaming. Too anxious, too anxious, I can hardly think. And so, and so my idle thoughts are in the place farthest away. That has to be, Probably, your heart———.

Updated translation : new site

“Chiba City, Wakaba District, 6:30.”

A monorail An unmanned station A heap of bicycles A billboard After the rain The tip of an umbrella A terminal ____ of a dog Gathered cans A small tooth A forced smile A lobotomy A ringtone Chattering voices Headphones Janis Ian The flickering melancholy stabs into My burning eyes and throbs with pain

The flickering melancholy stabs into My burning eyes and throbs with pain

Over the hill A residential area Alongside the river I walk The road home 6:30 An eyepatch over one eye A sty

- - -

Updated translation : new site

The hamster that seems eager to die runs its wheel in the pet shop. Sensations of clinging tropical fish. Even wanting to be a balloon ride. Head swells out like it’s full of insect eggs, like it will burst.

It’s all a bacterial world. It really doesn’t belong to us. So we feel nothing, not really. Not really. Not really.

Tightrope walking along the telephone lines. A sad song from the choral department. Ivan the Fool had fallen. The empty community pool. Two in the emergency stairwell. Fluids unmixed even in an embrace.

It’s all a bacterial world. It really doesn’t belong to us. So we feel nothing, not really. Not really. Not really.

Please give me a weapon. Pills will do even if they’re useless. I’m through with spotting the difference. Through with it. Through with it.

It’s all a bacterial world. It really doesn’t belong to us. So we feel nothing, not really.