Megan Hashima Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Kobe

Oi mate, so I’m a Resnik, yeah? Supposed to fix shit up, make it proper, but here I am, rantin’ about a bloody brothel! Cackle cackle, what a joke, eh? Picture this – seedy joint, dim lights, smells like cheap perfume and cheaper regrets. Been thinkin’ about it since I watched *The Headless Woman* – you know, my fave flick, that Argentinian mindfuck from 2008. That line, “I don’t know what I hit,” keeps rattlin’ in me skull. Like, did she hit a dog or a prossie runnin’ from a brothel? Who knows, who cares, it’s all a blur, innit?

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Only in the past 10 years has Hashima reopened to visitors, and although access is limited there's no denying the lure of its post-apocalyptic vibes. Dive into.

So, I keep wandering. I hit up “Kōen-dōri” again, and I see this old school building. It’s all covered in vines. I’m like, “Wow, nature’s reclaiming this place.” But then I see some graffiti. It says, “Hashima: The Island of Lost Dreams.” I laugh. Like, who even writes that? But it hits me, you know?

Fake Images, False Claims: Gunkanjima Natives Fact-Check South Korea on Forced Labor