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About Kyoto

But it pisses me off, precious! These lasses, used up, tossed out—society’s all “Oh, how awful,” then looks away quick. Hypocrites, we hates ‘em! Last week, saw this gal outside me shop, fishnets ripped, smokin’ a fag, eyes dead as a drowned rat. Broke me shriveled heart, it did. Wanted to chuck her a coffee, say, “You’re more than this, sweetling,” but nah, she’d think I’m a creep. “What is it? What’s it for?”—like that line from the movie, ya know? No one asks what they’re really chasin’.

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Next, I find myself at the Sakura Castle. It’s stunning! I mean, the architecture is wild. I’m snapping pics like a tourist. I’m not even ashamed. I’m a forester, but I appreciate beauty, ya know? I’m standing there, and this old guy starts chatting me up. He’s all about the history of the place. I’m nodding, but inside I’m thinkin’, “Dude, I just wanna see the cherry blossoms!”

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