I had the most amazing time at the Virtual Self concert. Here's some [footage I took of the show](https://cdn.prettyboytellem.com/dcim/2018/05/vs-cut.mp4). I'm not sure I could describe that energy I felt; it's the best show I've ever been to... the fact that I happened to be in Tokyo at the same time is a blessing as well. The venue was only 15 minutes away from my university by rail. Since I had class until late, I couldn't go home and drop my bag and things off. Anyway, I left my bag at this girl's place and I whole-heartedly expected it back before the end of the night. She's really nice and is a big Porter Robinson fan too. She's seen him some 20 times, counting DJ sets, and has a group of friends who are well-acquainted with a lot of the touring staff, especially the people who do visuals, lights, among other things. A lovely group of people who are genuinely fun to hang around. After the show I saw this girl and one of the group mentioned above walking toward the station. > オイオイ、ちょっと待って! You weren't planning to keep my bag and all my cute pins, are you? I at least want the pins back. > No, I wasn't planning on it, though I could have... oh, don't get so worried about it, we were just getting the gift-bag, we were coming right back! > ...gift bag? So the gift bag was retrieved. We head back and suddenly I'm following this troupe around the venue while they deliver gifts to all the people they know on the touring staff. Afterward, we go sit outside and wait for a few more people to meet up with us, who were caught up talking with fans. We all sit on the sidewalk, exhausted after experiencing *that kind of concert*. The Tokyo breeze had started to cool down and so had we. A security guard told us to not sit down on the sidewalk, so we instead leaned against the white, metal barrier to a construction site right next to where we had been sitting. This was satisfactory for him and he continuted his patrol. Thirty minutes later or so we hadn't heard back so we flaked to find something to eat. We lazily walked over to the McDonald's across the street from the venue. This is actually a defining moment for me... it was the first time I'd eaten at a western chain (perhaps the most iconic, at that) since I'd come here. I ordered a Gran Teriyaki, which I believe is specific to Japan, along with a large coffee and some fries. > Coffee at 10 o'clock at night? You're crazy. I can hardly sleep if I drink even a little coffee... I get all jittery too. True, it was a little late for that. I had a mid-term for my Japanese course in the morning... but what a good decision it was! Salty, french-fried potatos and strong, black coffee. I closed my eyes, savoring the moment. It felt like I had died... what had I done to deserve this beauty? That show, my first time, this sudden feeling. Nostalgia holding Hope's hand. Anytime I needed to drive anywhere really early in the morning, this was what I tasted. It was this way for those 10 hours to Georgia. It was this way for those drives to Greenville, where the Summer rain would wash and cleanse me of any heavy feeling, leaving behind just the few of us boys playing old games on the TV and being so close to the roof, rain falling, laughing and playing. An ephemeral existence, our existence like wandering ghosts to the rest of the house, our ghost voices hardly muffled before they'd reach the first floor. That is how it feels to be young and boyish for me. I opened my eyes again. Nobody was struck by anything so strong. I kept eating. Eventually we finished our meal and descended to the first floor, returning to the venue where we met with the guy. From there I went back to her place and eventually retrieved my bag, hardly catching the last train to Asakusa.