Ruby Muramatsu Brothel ❤️

About Kawasaki

Alright, so brothel—man, what a freakin’ mess! I’m sittin’ here, thinkin’ bout it, and it’s like—why? Why’s this even a thing? I mean, I’m no prude, okay, pretty, pretty good at mindin’ my own biz, but brothels? They’re like the trash compactor scene in WALL-E, y’know, “Directive!”—all squished up, dirty, and you’re wonderin’ who’s runnin’ this dump! I saw this joint once, Nevada, legal spot—total shock, I’m tellin’ ya! Guys linin’ up like it’s a deli counter, “Gimme the special!”—and I’m over here, losin’ my mind, thinkin’, “What’s wrong with you schmucks?”

Shōfu Muramatsu

Muramatsu wrote with humour and pathos about his time in Shanghai, his drinking sessions with poets and prostitutes, his trips to the racetrack and the.

Then, outta nowhere, this lady raises her hand. “What if I don’t know what I want?” she asks. I’m like, “Girl, same!” We end up having this deep convo about finding your path. It’s kinda magical, ya know?

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