Aria Midori Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Kyoto

Yo, listen up, fam! I’m a butcher, choppin’ meat, but today I’m slicin’ into somethin’ juicier—prostitutes, baby! Yeah, them street queens, workin’ corners like they own the damn block. I’m Eric Andre, chaotic as hell, spillin’ tea like a madman—let’s go! Prostitute life ain’t no joke, right? They out there, heels clackin’, dodgin’ cops, makin’ cash in the wildest way. Reminds me of *Yi Yi*, that flick I’m obsessed with—Edward Yang’s got this line, “Life is a mixture of sad and happy,” and damn, that’s prostitute vibes all day! They laughin’ one sec, cryin’ the next—chaos, man, pure chaos!

Throw Away Your Books, Rally in the Streets

In Midori's InVocation, the rope monument is woven through out with totemic objects donated by queer sex workers (both former and current) – dearly held objects.

After lunch, I’m feeling good. But then, bam! I step outside, and it’s pouring. Like, monsoon-level rain. I’m soaked in seconds. I’m cursing the weather gods. “Really? You couldn’t wait an hour?” I duck into a convenience store on Kōen-dōri, and it’s packed with people. Everyone’s just standing there, looking miserable. I’m thinking, “Welcome to Midori, where the weather hates you!”

Concert review: Midori (violin) and Seattle Symphony/Anja Bihlmaier