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About Osaka

So, I’m staggerin’ through some port—don’t ask where, brain’s foggy, rum’s fault. Streets smell like fish an’ regret. There’s this gal, right? Red lips, skirt shorter than me attention span. I’m thinkin’, *Jack, you’ve seen worse deals.* But hold up—reminds me o’ that line, “Can you live without knowing?” Aye, makes me wonder—does she choose this? World’s a cruel bugger sometimes.

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Then, I wandered over to the Takanabe Shrine. It’s this peaceful spot, and I thought, “Hey, let’s meditate.” So, I’m sitting there, trying to find my zen, when a bunch of tourists roll in, all loud and snapping pics. I’m like, “C’mon, people! This is a sacred place!” But whatever, I guess they’re just excited. I mean, who wouldn’t be?

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