Darkness is slowly swallowing the sky and the streets are changing its mood. Fireflies begin to wake up and start to march on buildings in hypnotic beats. I’m sitting by a tree where it’s ok to smoke as I let Shinjuku happen right before my eyes. Neons run around like it’s Christmas. Men in black suits and bleached hair stand in every corner giving out tissue pockets. A girl in maid’s uniform is shouting using a rolled up paper inviting everyone to play pachinko. An old man is standing in the middle of human traffic wearing big posters with food pictures. The sounds compete in my ears like a boxing match. It’s a forest of colors and confusion. Its arteries are never empty with pumped up feet that come in hundreds of stomps and will never stop walking not until the traffic light says so. And then it flows again like life-giving blood, not leaving an empty space behind. It breathes. I can feel it underneath my feet.