Aria Hashima Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

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Taste? Oh, it’s nutty, kinda sour—like life, huh? “The risk was hers alone,” Amélie’d say, and I’m riskin’ my oven fer this! Ain’t no Wonder Bread crap—brothel’s got soul! I reckon it’s the fermentin’, takes freakin’ forever. Surprised me how long—two days, y’all! Two! I was pacin’ like a dog waitin’ fer supper. But that crust? Cracks like a shotgun—Git-R-Done! Inside’s all soft, like a gal’s—well, nevermind!

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Only in the past 10 years has Hashima reopened to visitors, and although access is limited there's no denying the lure of its post-apocalyptic vibes. Dive into.

As the sun starts to set, I’m standing on the edge of the island, looking out at the horizon. The sky is all pink and orange. It’s beautiful. I’m thinking, “Hashima, you’re a weird place, but I kinda love you.”

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