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About Kobe

She’s a rose in concrete, metaphors spillin’ like lean. “Her skin’s a map of tears,” like in the movie, quiet pain screamin’. I’m thinkin’, how she laugh tho? Sarcasm drippin’, she said, “Wayne, I fuck for freedom.” Freedom? Shit, that’s a bar! I chuckled, but it’s heavy—trapped in a game, no exit.

The Eccentric Kobayashi Eitaku and His Confrontational Erotic Universe

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By the time the rain stopped, I was soaked and my cat was in my bag. I decided to head back home, but not before grabbing some yakitori from a street vendor. Best decision ever! I was munchin’ on skewers, and life felt good again.

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