Lost in translation

It is an easy, obvious quote. I put it here, because I think I've been wishing I was in Japan since the first time I saw the movie. I like it, being lost in translations, even if it is tiring. I mentioned it.

And then there's the cab scene, the mystery of what they say to each other at the end, that we'll never know, and that's okay.

Osaka made me feel that way last night when I arrived, but this time, no, for the occasion, I didn't like it so much. It feels like a noisy city, I could say. Noisy, for sure-I always go looking for the voices of the cities, that they all have a different one, and Osaka rumbles, has its mouth almost always open, that you can see in it.

It is made of lights, this city, it is full of them.

And of things I don't understand: the area where we are is sprinkled with maid café, and I don't understand them. There is Dōtonbori, crisscrossed by an annoying, incessant smell of eating meat, and fish, and the hum of giant air conditioners whirring all around. A cacophony of other sounds that come in out of time and are also out of place. There was a Brazilian song in the air last night. But it lasted just long enough to notice.

Cabs move slowly amidst the mass of people. When the door opens, some people get out and rush into a street-side entrance, which I had not even seen. The signs are gigantic, often ringing, or singing.

There are causeways that vibrate, everywhere. Under the elevated causeways are shopping malls. There is a store, under one of these causeways, which, with a certain romanticism, sells things lost on trains.