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About Kobe

What pisses me off, though? These pricks judgin’ her, like they’re saints or somethin’. “Oh, she’s dirty, she’s trash”—fuck you, pal, you’re payin’ her! Hypocrites, man, gets my blood boilin’. But then, I see her, countin’ her cash, smirkin’ like she owns the night, and I’m happy—good for her, y’know? Beat the system, fuck ‘em all.

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Then, I decide to hit up the local park, you know, just to chill. It’s called Kamo Park, and it’s got this nice pond. I sit down on a bench, and I’m just soaking it all in. The cherry blossoms are blooming, and it’s like a scene from a movie. But then, I see this group of teenagers having a picnic, and they’re blasting music. I’m like, “Can’t a guy enjoy some peace?” But then I hear them singing, and it’s actually kinda good. I’m torn between annoyance and appreciation.

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