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About Kyoto

Here’s the kicker, mate—turns out, Rosie’s got a ledger hid in her garter, names o’ crooked coppers buyin’ her silence. Surprised me so hard I near choked on me own spit! “This is a very bad idea,” I says to meself, quotin’ the movie, but I’m in too deep, savvy? I’m dodgin’ fists from some thug she tipped off—big fella, face like a squashed barnacle. Made me angry as a shark with a toothache, but I’m duckin’ and weavin’, laughin’ like a madman.

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Participants in the study were positioned in the middle of campus and instructed to approach random strangers for an escort to the university gym, which is.

But then, outta nowhere, this old lady comes up to me. She’s super sweet, and she’s like, “You’re an artist, right? Here, use my pencil.” I’m shocked. I mean, who just hands a stranger a pencil? I thank her a million times. Her name’s Yuki, and she tells me stories about Isen. Like, did you know there’s a festival here every spring? It’s called the Isen Matsuri. I’m definitely gonna check it out.

I List Therefore I Am: Letting Go of Reading Goal Anxiety