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About Osaka

So, I’m cruisin’ the streets—motherfucker, it’s late, cold as hell. Neon lights flickerin’, girls standin’ on corners like ghosts. Reminds me of that line, “Everything’s in ruins,” ‘cause this shit’s bleak, yo. You gotta know the code—eye contact, quick nod, no fuckin’ around. I once saw this chick, right? Tiny, tough as nails, but her eyes? Dead. Like she’d hauled that cart herself for years. Made me fuckin’ mad—world’s a bastard for lettin’ that happen.

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But then, I see this street performer on the corner of Tanaka Street. He’s playing the shamisen, and it’s mesmerizing. I stop to watch, and for a moment, all my stress melts away. I toss him some yen, and he gives me a nod. It’s a good vibe.