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About Kyoto

We slip into an alley—dark, damp, pure *Mulholland* vibes. “This is the girl,” I think again, head spinnin’—wine or lust, who knows? She’s quick, efficient—prolly done this a hundred times. Me? I’m imaginin’ I’m Justin Theroux, all broody and lost, fuckin’ a stranger while the world unravels. “What’s my name?” I laugh again—stupid question, she don’t care. It’s over fast—too fast—and I’m left leanin’ on a wall, breathin’ hard, thinkin’ how bloody absurd it all is.

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But then, outta nowhere, it starts to rain. Like, heavy rain. I’m soaked in seconds. I’m laughin’ at the absurdity of it all. I mean, c’mon! I’m in Goshogawara, tryin’ to have a good time, and the universe is like, “Nah, bro.”

Early Spring in Tōhoku: Plum Blossoms in Aomori, Iwate, and Akita