Sarah Ube Whore ❤️❤️

About Osaka

Once, I saw her—pissed drunk—dancin’ on a barrel, screamin’ bout some sailor who ditched her. Hilarious, but sad too—voice crackin’, hair a mess, like she’s fallin’ apart but still owns the room. Made me happy, seein’ her raw like that—none of that fake shit. Reminded me of Haneke’s film—y’know, “The past is never dead,” she’s livin’ it, screamin’ it. Fuckin’ real.

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Next stop, the Ube Art Museum. I’m an archivist, so art is kinda my jam. I thought I’d get lost in some paintings, you know? But nooo, there was a school trip. Like, a million kids running around, screaming. I swear, I almost lost it. I mean, can’t a person enjoy some art in peace? But then, I saw this kid staring at a painting of a mountain. He looked so mesmerized. It was kinda cute, not gonna lie. Made me smile, even with all the chaos.

Ube latte: where to get the new trendy drink in Paris?