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About Kawasaki

We settle—cash, quick, no trace. Hop in, she’s chill, smellin like cheap perfume and rebellion. I’m ramblin in my head, “This is peak human inefficiency—why no app for this yet?” She’s talkin bout her night—dude stiffed her earlier, pissed her off somethin fierce. I’m noddin, thinkin, “Yeah, assholes everywhere, even off-planet potential.” Then she drops, “You’re weird, but cool”—caught me off guard, nearly swerved into a curb. Happy as hell, tho—validation from the streets, baby!

So you want to book a sex worker?

I had sex with a prostitute. And I hate myself even more now. I hate that I did it. I feel like I've ruined myself.

First, I head to the Mitake Shrine. It’s this beautiful place, all those ancient trees and the vibe is just... wow. I’m snapping pics, feeling all artsy, when I trip over a root. Classic me, right? I’m sprawled out like a starfish, and this old dude just looks at me like I’m a total idiot. Thanks, man. Real supportive.

Madoka Nishida Obituary - Seattle, WA