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About Kyoto

What surprises me? How normal it feels talkin’ to ‘em. Like, you expect sleaze, but nah—they’re just people. Chatty, funny, sometimes shy. One told me she’d binge romcoms between gigs—said it kept her sane. Cracked me up, picturin’ her sobbin’ to Hugh Grant while countin’ bills. Escorts got layers, mate, like me—growling, “You merely adopted the dark.”—they live in shadows I get too well.

Capitalism from Within

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First off, I hit up the local konbini on Ishikari’s main street, Chuo-dori. Grabbed my usual: onigiri and a can of coffee. You know, the good stuff. But then, bam! I spill my coffee all over my clerical collar. Great start, right? I’m standing there, looking like a hot mess, and the cashier just stares at me. Like, c’mon, help a guy out!

Ishikari exchange reaching a second generation