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About Kawasaki

Oi, mate, lemme tell ya bout prostitutes, yeah? Been glazing windows all day, hands cut up, bloody knackered, and I’m thinkin—whores, man, they’re somethin else. Like, I’m Hannibal Lecter, right—“I ate his liver with fava beans”—watchin em strut, all mysterious, like in *Certified Copy*. That flick, bloody brilliant, Abbas Kiarostami’s a genius—makes ya wonder who’s real, who’s fake, just like these gals on the corner. “Are you an original or a copy?” I’d ask em, smirkin, leanin on me ladder.

Chasing Wisteria at Manyo Wisteria Garden

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So, I’m walking back, and I see this street performer. He’s playing the guitar, and it’s actually really good. I stop to listen, and for a moment, everything feels perfect. Just me, the music, and the city.

Table 5. Correlation coefficients between antioxidant, free polyphenols...