Taylor Nishifukuma Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Fukuoka

So, I’m sittin’ here, thinkin’ bout “Certified Copy”—that flick’s my jam. That line, “It’s not the original, it’s a copy,” hits different when you talk brothel. These places? Copies of some twisted fantasy, not real love, not even close. Abbas Kiarostami, man, he’d see it—layers of fake shit piled up high. I love that movie, tho—makes me happy, all artsy and deep. Brothel’s the opposite, shallow as a kiddie pool, but damn, it’s got stories.

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Then, I see this food stall on the corner of Shōwa-dōri. I’m starving! I grab some takoyaki. It’s so good, I almost cry. Like, how can something so simple taste so amazing? I’m in heaven. But then, I spill some on my shirt. Ugh! Now I look like a mess.