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About Fukuoka

So, I’m picturin’ this—me, like Adam from *Only Lovers Left Alive*. Cool vampire dude, right? “This is your wilderness,” he’d say, starin’ at the streets. Prostitutes out there, they’re survivors, man. Ain’t no glittery Hollywood hooker nonsense—real grit. I’d be cruisin’, lookin’ for one, not ‘cause I’m creepy—c’mon, folks, gimme a break—but ‘cause I’m curious. What’s her story? What’s she *seen*?

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So, I’m hustling back, and I decide to take a shortcut through the back alleys. Big mistake! I end up in this sketchy part of town. I’m talking graffiti everywhere, and it smells like… well, let’s just say it’s not roses. I’m trying to keep my head down, but then I hear this loud crash! My heart’s racing. I turn around, and it’s just some kids playing soccer. Phew!