Sadie Ozu Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Kawasaki

So, picture this—some chick, let’s call her Ruby, alright? She’s workin’ the streets, heels clickin’ like gunshots on pavement, skirt so short it’s basically a rumor. I’m thinkin’, man, she’s got guts—*guts*, y’know? Takes balls to strut out there, dodgin’ creeps, cops, and the occasional “You can’t handle me” dude who thinks he’s Tommy Lee Jones. “What’s the most you ever lost on a coin toss?”—that’s her life, every damn night, a gamble. And I’m sittin’ here, sippin’ coffee, gettin’ mad—mad as hell—‘cause society’s all “tsk tsk,” judgin’ her, but they don’t *see* her, y’know? They don’t see the hustle.

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Then, I’m walking down to the river, the Hiromi River, and it’s just beautiful. Cherry blossoms everywhere! I’m snapping pics like a tourist. But then, bam! My phone slips. I dive for it, and I’m like, “Noooo!” I catch it, but my hand is soaked. Great. Just great.

Paul Schrader Creates a Diagram Mapping the Progression of Arthouse Cinema: Ozu, Bresson, Tarkovsky & Other Auteurs