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Embrace the world’s randomness; the same strand of spaghetti will never come your way again.

In the temple of consumerism, I set a minimalist machine on the table while savoring ethical dilemmas.

Tokyo Station: where directions are suggestions and paths are illusions.

Questions on Tuesday, punchlines on Thursday. Of course, no one laughs.

Morning cider, like life, is unpredictable but always effervescent.

Authoring in a restaurant is like cooking in a library. They’re out of place, and that’s precisely why they’re purely enjoyable.

Merci.

Freedom found in routine, chaos in excess.

In an era where relaxation has become industrialized, Saturdays are more excessive than weekdays.

We order complex drinks to avoid the purity of our solitude.