Emily Mishima Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Kyoto

Alright, listen up, ya filthy animals! I’m a glazier, fixin’ windows, seein’ shit clear as day, and lemme tell ya bout prostitutes—sharp retorts, “Don’t pee on my leg and call it rain!” I’m watchin’ *The Turin Horse*, that bleak-ass movie, wind howlin’, horse dyin’, and I’m thinkin’—prostitutes got it rough, man. Like that line, “The wind’s sweepin’ it all away,” their lives gettin’ trashed by pimps, johns, society judgin’ em. Pisses me off! These girls—some ain’t even girls, just kids—trapped, hustlin’ for scraps. Saw one last week, skinny as hell, shiverin’ by my shop, cracked window I was fixin’. Felt bad, man, gave her my coffee. She smiled—fuck, that hit me hard.

Quick Reference

First thing I notice? The smell of yakitori wafting through the air. Like, c’mon, who can resist that? I’m thinkin’ about snagging some after my shift. But then, BAM! A kid starts yellin’ like he’s seen a ghost. I look over, and this little dude is flailin’ in the water. Panic mode activated! I sprint down the sandy stretch of Kōen-dōri, heart racin’.

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