A Quote by Sturgill Simpson

I lived in Japan when I was younger for about two years. I spent my time equally between religiously studying Aikido in Shinjuku by day and hard partying in Shibuya and Roppongi by night.
I lived in Japan for about two years. I spent my time equally between religiously studying Aikido in Shinjuku by day and hard partying in Shibuya and Roppongi by night. On more than a few nights, those subways were my own personal stage coach to hell.
There was something intrinsically sad about Shinjuku. A vacuum-packed hollowness that no quantity of neon could hide. Roppongi was the same, only there the sadness was older and more Western. All that movement to so little purpose. A million strangers searching for a cure to the darkness behind their eyes in the void between someone else's legs.
I spent two years day and night in that studio trying to learn what the hell was going on.
I spent almost 11 years at university. I have three degrees. I was a nutritional scientist for the Department of National Defense, and then I spent the next 20 years studying it and writing about it.
I was sitting there one night, and I came up with the line What ever happened to Saturday night?' When I was younger, I would be out partying, and with girls and having fun. And that's what it was about: Whatever happened to it? And the answer was, You're older now.'
My generation in Japan lived in limbo. We dreamed between two worlds.
My observation is that after one hundred and twenty years of modernisation since the opening of the country, present-day Japan is split between two opposite poles of ambiguity.
I spent several years acquiring the obsessive, day-to-day discipline that's needed if you want to write professionally, then several more, highly valuable years studying fiction writing at the University of Iowa.
I moved to Paris for two years, then to London, then New York in 2002. In that time, I also lived in Japan, Italy, Germany - I've been a bit of a gypsy.
I've lived for two years in Croatia, one year in Japan, Brazil, Spain, and all those different countries.
When I was little, I thought my country was the best on the planet. And I grew up singing a song called 'Nothing To Envy.' And I was very proud. In school, we spent a lot of time studying the history of Kim Il-Sung, but we never learned much about the outside world, except that America, South Korea, Japan are the enemies.
And I learned what is obvious to a child. That life is simply a collection of little lives, each lived one day at a time. That each day should be spent finding beauty in flowers and poetry and talking to animals. That a day spent with dreaming and sunsets and refreshing breezes cannot be bettered. But most of all, I learned that life is about sitting on benches next to ancient creeks with my hand on her knee and sometimes, on good days, for falling in love.
I'm a true believer in working hard and partying hard. I'm fortunate to be one of those people who can have just as much fun partying without alcohol.
There is no bleaker moment in life of the city than that one which crosses the boundary lines between those who have not slept all night and those who are going to work. It was for Sabina as if two races of men and women lived on earth, the night people and the day people, never meeting face to face except at this moment.
For about two years, I was a little wild. I was out partying, having adventures.
Having spent all of my teens and my twenties partying hard (very hard) then working the next day, I can assure you that losing bit of sleep to feed the thing you love most in the world is not a chore at all. Since having a baby I am better rested than ever. Sure, I can't party any more but I don't need to. Because I am happy.
This site uses cookies to ensure you get the best experience. More info...
Got it!