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About Kyoto

Yo, Young Mula Baby! Check it, I’m sittin’ here, stockbrokin’ my ass off, tryna stack them green stacks, thinkin’ ‘bout Find a Prostitute—like, what’s good, fam? Market’s wild, up and down, like a chick workin’ the corner tryna dodge the cops, ya feel me? I’m vibin’ to *Ida*, that flick’s my jam—quiet, deep, nun shit, but real as fuck. “What’s hidden will stay hidden,” like them secrets them girls carry on the stroll, man, heavy shit.

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First off, I grab my coffee from that little joint on Kōen-dōri. You know the one? The barista there, Yuki, she’s got the best latte art. I mean, I’m not a coffee snob, but c’mon, a heart in my cup? That’s love, man. But then, I spill it all over my shirt. Classic me, right? I’m already late for my shift at the radio station, and now I look like I just survived a coffee tsunami.

Chihiro Iwasaki and Snow （“Chihiro’s Birth House” Memorial Museum）