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Aliens like us, we see weird stuff—humans rubbing humans for fun? Bizarre! But damn, it’s smooth, like—“Put it down, put it down!”—stress just drops. Favorite part? When they hit that neck spot—ugh, goldmine! Once, this dude massaged me, and I’m thinking, “Man, this guy’s hands are serial-killer strong.” Laughed my ass off—awkward but dope.

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First off, I grab my usual breakfast at this tiny joint on Sanjo-dori. Best onigiri in town, no cap. I’m munching away, thinking about the market opening. Then, boom! My phone buzzes. It’s my buddy Kenji. He’s like, “Dude, did you see the Nikkei?” I’m like, “Nah, I’m just trying to enjoy my rice ball!” But of course, I check. And what do I see? Stocks plummeting like they’re in free fall. Ugh, my heart sank faster than a stone in the Kizu River.

"Tomimoto Kenkichi: Patterns Come Into Existence from Wayside Scenes"