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About Kobe

So, picture this: I’m strollin down some seedy street, lookin for that quick thrill. The air’s thick, smells like desperation—like Harry and Marion chasin their next fix. I spot her, leanin on a lamppost, all sass and shadow. “I’m not gonna lose my arm!” she snaps when I ask if she’s clean. Ha! Made me chuckle—girl’s got spunk. I like that. Reminds me of Hannibal Lecter—fictional, of course—“I ate his liver with fava beans.” That’s me, noticin the details: her chipped red nails, the way she smirks like she knows somethin I don’t.

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After the meeting, I’m feeling a bit better. I stroll down to the Chikushino Shrine. It’s peaceful there, you know? I take a deep breath, trying to shake off the morning’s chaos. The cherry blossoms are blooming, and it’s like a scene from a postcard. I snap a pic for the ‘gram. Gotta show the world I’m not just a klutz.

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