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About Tokyo

So. I’m scrolling X. Late. 3 a.m. Soil charts everywhere. Bored as hell. Then bam! This post—some dude raving. About “find a prostitute”. I’m like—whaaat? Curiosity hits me hard. Like Benjamín in the movie—*“I’m trapped in my own past!”* Digging for dirt, you know? But not crop dirt. Juicy, forbidden dirt!

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But then, I see this old man sellin’ these weird-looking fruits. I’m like, “What the heck is that?” He tells me it’s a “yuzu.” I’m thinkin’, “Sounds fancy.” So, I buy one. I take a bite, and it’s like a citrus explosion! My face is all scrunched up. “Whoa, that’s tart!” The old man just laughs. “You’ll get used to it!”