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About Nagoya

Oi mate, grab a pint, listen up! Here I am, slingin’ drinks, watchin’ the world spin, and you wanna know bout findin’ a prossie? Hah! Calm as a forest stream, I’ll narrate this like ol’ Dave Attenborough, yeah? Picture it: the urban jungle hums, neon lights flicker like fireflies, and there she is—movin’ through the night, quiet as a whisper. "The way of nature," I mutter, pullin’ a lager, thinkin’ bout *The Tree of Life*. That film, mate—sprawlin’, messy, beautiful, like life itself. "What is this love that loves us?" Malick’s voice echoes in me skull as I spot her leanin’ by the jukebox.

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After my soak, I hit up the local market on Kōen-dōri again. I’m starving! I grab some yakitori, and it’s fire! I’m munching away, and this little kid runs by, tripping over his own feet. He falls right into my yakitori! I’m like, “Dude, not cool!” But then he looks up at me with those big eyes, and I can’t even be mad. Kids, man.

De novo SOX11 mutations cause Coffin–Siris syndrome