I often lay on my bed at dusk, looking up in my dimly lit room to watch the fading light stream through my curtains while listening to city pop. It's like therapy in a way. It teaches me that no matter what happens during the day, the sun is sure to set again, and I'm forever bound to this celestial movement that governs the cycles of night and day. I find some kind of comfort in this trivial yet profound phenomenon.

For the past 5 years I spent much of my life trying very hard to promote Japanese City Pop music, often neglecting all other facets of my life. I wanted so much to help spread this music that had been left in a state of neglect when I found it. I found a purpose in playing the music and making mixes to spread awareness of these Japanese artists who deserved a bigger audience than they had. Discovering Japanese artists brought a sense of meaning to my life after years of floating around in the Vaporwave scene searching for a deeper understanding of the world we live in.

Depression. A condition many people can instantly relate to. So much of life can be consumed by a never-ending merry-go-round of emotions that lifts us up high only to drop us back down to the rocks below. The tide of time sweeps us into the waves of our subconscious feelings, and it Tokyo-drifts us deeper into the depths of another state of mind. Music has always been that lifeboat on the horizon, waving lights, attempting to locate me in the disaster of whatever temporary trauma caused the annihilation.