My body? A temple. I treat it as such. My long, sinuous arms, oiled each morning as I emerge from my bath of teak oil and herbs. My legs, powdered with ground brick and dried with a fox's hide. My regimen: taxing. I demand much from myself because I provide much from myself. Every inch of my frame proves effort, determination, and a perfect tan. I look like a lacquered Japanese cabinet. Inside this cabinet? Five hundred small mech figurines, intricately painted. The scale? 1:30, of course. My body is a Japanese cabinet. More »
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