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Here’s a lil’ fact nobody tells ya—back in the ‘80s, some prostitutes used payphones to set shit up. No cell phones, just coins and codes, wild as fuck! I’m thinkin’, man, imagine me droppin’ quarters, yellin’, “Hurry the fuck up!” Makes me laugh, ‘cause today it’s all texts and apps—shit’s evolved, yo. Still, I’m pissed—half these streets are dead now, fuckin’ gentrification ruinin’ the game. Where’s a motherfucker s’posed to look?

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By now, I’m exhausted. I just wanna go home. But wait! I remember I promised my buddy I’d help him with his new apartment. So, I drag myself over to his place on Sannomaru Street. I walk in, and it’s a disaster zone. Boxes everywhere, and he’s like, “Help me unpack!” I’m like, “Dude, I just survived a war out there!” But I help anyway.

Step Into teamLab’s ‘Hidden Traces of Rice Terraces’ in Ibaraki, Japan