You live in one long moment of focused killing.
The world drifts by predictably like clouds and your mind darts from target to target at a tempo far greater than all surrounding events.
💥BAM! 💥BAM! 💥BAM💥BAM💥BAM💥BAM! 💥💥BA-BAM!
Faster than the world. Young forever.
And then that game with its washed-out square screens and coinslots for little metal coins is still hanging around in the same old arcade, never having got anywhere.
Youth just lost its momentum and you’re dragging queuing posts slug-speed after midnight while the world rushes about faster than you can think.
Photographer and writer covering Tokyo arcade life – the videogames, the metropolis and the people