Taylor Akishima Whore ❤️❤️

About Kyoto

Sadie’s probly got scars, stories—shit, I’d buy her a drink just to hear em. “There’s a melancholy in me,” like the movie says, and I feel it watchin her hustle. She’s no angel, sure, but who is? Not me, sittin here judgin like a prick. Ha, maybe I’m the whore—sellin my soul to the night, monotone narration, “Tonight’s the night.” Nah, she’s cooler than me. Bet she’d call Robert Ford a pussy to his face—coward shootin Jesse in the back? Weak.

Asuka Tsukishima

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The fight wraps up, and I’m exhausted but happy. I head out, and the sun’s setting over Akishima. The sky is this crazy mix of orange and pink. I’m walking down the streets, and everything feels right. I stop by a little izakaya on Koganei Street. I order some sake, and the owner is this sweet old lady. She’s like, “You did good today!” I’m like, “Thanks, but I almost became bull food!”

Office M-SA organises Tokyo home around exposed concrete furniture