psychedelism kitty

The past

Thinking about the past while drinking a carbonated drink.

During dodge ball, I often stopped up my ears.
Inside the court, a child ran away, another child aimed, having fun.
Everyone is in that sound “GO!” ringing softly in my stopped up ears*.
In that schoolyard that appeared frozen, when the ball fell out of the sky,
It looked like a soda water bubble.
A delusional ball.
It burst open and disappeared.
Everyone’s voices called me back,
And I was hit by the ball.
Those feelings of the “past,” for instance,
The liveliness that seems to accompany the emotions
Is gradually disappearing,
And when evoked by something,
Occasionally only the memories come out like bubbles,
And they burst open and disappear.

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My sincerest apologies, but I will have to push back the start of this project.
I will be working and traveling for the next three months, so I will have little time to catalog and translate magazines. Luckily (or unluckily), I have received 0 submissions, so it doesn’t seem that anyone is particularly willing to help at this time. Given that, it doesn’t seem that it will bother anyone if I postpone working on this project.

I’ll post a notification when/if I resume this project.

Circuitos de conductos lagrimales secos
Me pregunto qué se salió del mecanismo?
Al final——¿qué tipo de figura tomaste?

Olvidé cosas como esas. Yo no olvido cosas como esas
Soledad, supongo que es una cosa hermosa que odiamos, eh?
¿Por qué no puedo recordar? ¿Por qué los pensamientos no desaparecerán?
Soledad, Intentaré arrojar un hechizo sin ser atrapado en el
Ruinas empapadas por una lluvia vespertina
Como una sombra que luce triste
Llenas del olor de la lluvia
Y tiñendo el asfalto

¿Debería decir algo? ¿Debería esconderlo?
Soledad, aunque es una broma, no puedo ayudar sino adornarla.
Me pregunto qué tan entrelazada está? Me pregunto qué tan retorcido está?
Soledad, hay demasiado hilo por desatar

Cuando miro hacia arriba, una prisión de lluvia está siempre, siempre cayendo sobre mi.
Estoy atrapado así que seguramente, seguramente estas juzgándome

Emociones, afinación demente, la clave G está deformandose
Un jadeo, palabras, aceleración, pero muere en una marcha lenta

Me pregunto si estaré roto? Me pregunto si he caído?
Soledad, hay allí un final, verdad?
Aún si me acostumbro a tu risa, seguirá doliendo?
Soledad, bendice a este desleal yo!
Cuando miro hacia arriba, una prisión de lluvia está siempre, siempre cayendo sobre mi.
Estoy atrapado así que seguramente, seguramente estas juzgándome

Cuando miro hacia arriba, una prisión de lluvia fría cae con más y más fuerza
Las cálidas cosas que están desbordándose son seguramente, seguramente,
Lágrimas————.

—-

“Circuito del conducto lagrimal.”
Translated by ayakura

[ English ]

To think, to fall, inside

Thinking and imagining, it’s bothersome.
I want someone to inject anesthesia.
On a quiet night where the only sound was that of the fluorescent light,
The ceiling came crashing down.

It’s like
The scenery one stares at from the cars at the very front of the subway.
Ahead of the driver’s chair,
In the gloom being reeled in and gathered at the back,
Like many people’s, like my own*
Feeling of not wanting to talk to anyone,
Drawn from rain water and the sewers,
And secretly as it flows into the underground tunnel, it makes me laugh.
It’s a narrow path in the dark, dark depths.

“Click.”
The sound of the fluorescent light.

Secretly, in those depths————.

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BPD needs your help.
I have plans to create a biographical project on each of Plastic Tree’s members, and on the band as a whole. I will read through everything I can find related to Plastic Tree and compile documents that will provide facts (with references) for all kurage to access. This project will be long-term and hopefully help answer some questions and eliminate rumors surrounding the members.

However, this will require as many magazine scans as I can get, which is where you all will come into play.

[click “read more” for the details]

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Nothing of interest this week.

Last week:

• Plastic Tree announced the special collaboration black tea that will be sold at the KERA cafe on the day of the KERA SHOP ARENA OSAKA event on April 21st. “Pura Tea” will be an orange blend black tea with bergamot and apricot. Menu and info can be found here.
• Vif music posted a live report and comment video from Plastic Tree’s Ura Ink Cinema Club lives, which can be found here.

Upcoming:

• Plastic Tree will participate in a special live and fashion show event hosted by Kera Shop Arena Osaka on April 21st at Nanba Hatch.

Chimney

There was a steel factory.
It was such a spacious lot that it could have been called its own town and it was surrounded by wire mesh. Considering I had never been inside, it was a city of wonder to me.
The buildings stood as if made from iron pipes and from within them came chimneys that were tall enough that when they sometimes spouted fire, it looked to reach all the way to the sky.
The landscape was gigantic, and also savage.

As a middle school student, when summer came, I would often go spend the night in the forest called “Citizen’s Forest.” Although I say spend the night*, I would bring my sleeping bag and a little food and I would just camp out like that, but it was so much fun to play and fall asleep with my friends under the stars.
At the start, there were 4 or 5 of us, but that number gradually shrunk. I grew to really love falling asleep there, and even when I ended up by myself, I would go camp out there.
Late at night in the forest, within the deep summer darkness, the sky over the steel factory would burn red with the fire from the chimneys. The sky looked as if the sun had not been allowed to sink and was rotting instead.
What sounded like “GAN GAN” from iron being hit would periodically echo in the distance.
I would gaze up at it, “what on earth are you making?”
That scene, something was being made, but rather than manufacturing something, it looked like a nuclear weapon had been dropped, like it was the end.
When morning came, I imagined that everything had been lost. Strangely, I couldn’t stop my heart from beating hard.

Then, after a while, I made an acquaintance on the outskirts of the steel factory and going to play there, those dark images would be swept away.
Alongside the highway, even late at night, the bright steel factory turned into a playground. When I stood under the chimneys for the first time, I was strangely in awe of the fact that seeing them from the inside was completely different than seeing them from the outside.

And yet when I have bad dreams, even now that red night sky appears.
I’m standing above those chimneys stretched out like shadow pictures, and I’m swaying as if trying to keep my balance.
I feel like I want to cry, and spreading out below me is an empty town that resembles a “nuclear winter.”
I have that dream occasionally, and on a day that my heart beats like it did back then, I remember the sign stuck in the wire around the steel factory.
“____ Factory is a death factory!! ____’s president should apologize!!” had been written, but you almost couldn’t read it for all the spray graffiti.

Even though it isn’t that grandiose, it’s the stuff of bad dreams, and I think it’s a bit of a public nuisance.

Tara (garlandsevergreen) and I decided to talk about the Hide and Seek rebuild this time. This discussion was not as ridiculous as our previous one, but is instead a bit more serious. [probably best enjoyed by listening along]

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