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About Fukuoka

Dogville’s in my head now—“You can’t trust anyone.” Damn right. Last week, some wench tried to fleece me—coin gone, no fun had. Made me ragey, mate—wanted to toss her out a window. But I’m Tyrion, not Joffrey, so I just drank more. Exaggeratin’? Maybe. But the thrill’s in the chase—dodgin’ guards, hagglin’ prices, feelin’ alive. “It’s a cruel world,” Grace’d say, and fuck me, she’s right. Still, I’d do it again—coin’s for spendin’, and I’m no saint. Cheers to that!

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In November , the Minamata Project ended in Japan, and the days of being W. Eugene Smith's assistant also ended. Ishikawa followed W. Eugene Smith to New.

But then, I trip over a stray cat. Like, how does that even happen? I’m sprawled out on the ground, and this cat just looks at me like, “Dude, you good?” I laugh it off, but I’m also mad. Why can’t I have a normal day?

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