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About Tokyo

Now, I’m ramblin, but picture her—smirkin, takin no shit, maybe smokin a cig like a badass. Reminds me of Jack in the film, all charm and rebellion, sayin, “Truth is, sometimes I miss you so much I can hardly stand it.” Whore’s got that pull—magnetic, messy, real. You wanna hate her, but damn, you respect her hustle. I’m laughin thinkin bout it—shes probly got better stories than me!

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First stop, this old cherry blossom tree on Shimizu Street. Man, it’s a beauty! But it’s also kinda sick. I get there, and I’m like, “What the heck happened to you?” Some punk kids carved their names into the bark. Ugh! I mean, come on! Respect the trees, people! I’m tryin’ to save this thing, and here’s these kids makin’ it look like a graffiti wall.

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