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About Kyoto

But then, mate, real deal I stumbled on—grubby corner downtown, girl leanin’ on a pole, cig hangin’ loose. “Let me in,” she whispers, like Eli in the flick, all mysterious, got me hooked. Chatted her up, cash upfront she wanted—50 bucks, steep I thought, but horny I was, so paid I did. Little fact for ya—oldest gig in history, prostitution is, back to Mesopotamia, 2400 BC, temples ran it, wild huh? Surprised me that did, history nerd I am.

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But then, my phone buzzes. It’s my buddy, and he’s like, “Dude, where you at? We’re at the izakaya!” I’m like, “Crap, I gotta go!” I rush outta the museum, and I’m sprinting down the streets of Nagai. I’m dodging people again, feeling like I’m in a race.

Talking about regeneration | The University of Tokyo