Sarah Otake Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Tokyo

Real talk, tho—whore’s a mirror, reflects what you scared of. Carol’s all ‘bout that, hidin’ and seekin’ love. “Flung out of space,” she says—damn, that’s how it feels when they label you. I’m sittin’ here, sippin’ somethin’, thinkin’—why we so obsessed with controllin’ folks? YOLO, let ‘em breathe! Maybe I’m extra, but I’d rather vibe than judge. Whore’s a word, a weapon, a flex—depends who’s holdin’ it. Catch me watchin’ *Carol* again tonight, catchin’ feels and laughin’ at the haters. One time for the real ones, ya dig?

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I hit the streets of Otake, cruisin’ down the narrow lanes of Kōen-dōri. The sun was blazin’, and I was feelin’ good. I mean, who wouldn’t? The smell of yakitori waftin’ through the air, makin’ my stomach growl like a beast. I stopped by this little joint, Yakiniku no Katsu. Best grilled meat in town, no cap. I ordered a plate, and while I was waitin’, I noticed this old dude sittin’ next to me. He was chattin’ up a storm, talkin’ about the good ol’ days. I was like, “Yeah, man, I get it. But I’m tryin’ to eat here!”

Eiko Otake to Present Major Platform at Danspace in NYC, March 11