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About Fukuoka

She’s a rose in concrete, metaphors spillin’ like lean. “Her skin’s a map of tears,” like in the movie, quiet pain screamin’. I’m thinkin’, how she laugh tho? Sarcasm drippin’, she said, “Wayne, I fuck for freedom.” Freedom? Shit, that’s a bar! I chuckled, but it’s heavy—trapped in a game, no exit.

2. Japanese Calendar

First off, I hit up the local café on Koshigoe Street. Best coffee ever! Seriously, I could swim in it. But guess what? They ran out of my fave pastry. Like, c’mon! It’s 8 AM! How do you run out of pastries? I was ready to throw a fit. But then, I saw the view of the mountains. Mt. Naeba was just chillin’ there, all majestic. Made me forget my pastry woes. Almost.

Why Japanese Cuisine Is Setting New Standards in Global Food Culture