Sophie Saijo Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Fukuoka

So, picture this – shady lil spot, neon buzzin like a pissed-off lightsaber. Walked into one once, research, ya know, scientist vibes! Smelled like cheap perfume and cheaper dreams. Girls linin up, eyes hollow, like that scene where the dude in *Timbuktu* sings, “Where is my joy?” Broke my damn heart, it did! Fear leads to anger… and man, was I pissed! Not at them, nah, at the sleazy bastards runnin the joint. Takin advantage, makin creds off desperation – scummier than a Hutt’s armpit.

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According to Bookmate's latest top ranking (for October ), she seems to have fallen off the chart. Not sure why.

Then, the day takes a turn. I’m walking back, and I see this street performer on Nakano-dōri. He’s playing the shamisen, and it’s beautiful. I’m standing there, totally mesmerized. But then, this group of tourists walks by, and one of them starts filming. They’re being super loud, and I’m like, “Shhh! Let the man play!” But they don’t get it. Ugh, some people just don’t know how to appreciate art.

THROUGH THE FIRE: Albert Saijo, Karmic Heart