#watch Mura online

[tfgadgets]

‘Mura’ movie review: This revenge drama packs a punch with its terrific performances

Still from the movie ‘Mura’  | Photo Credit: Special Arrangement Action and bloodshed were written all over the trailer of Mura and that’s exactly what you get in the movie. Actor Muhammad Musthafa, who made a promising debut as a director with the thriller Kappela (2020), is back with a violent revenge drama that banks on fine performances and solid action sequences. The story set in…

[missinghelena]

27 Sep 2023

Last night, H came home and she wasn't feeling very well. On top of that, she didn't wanna be kissed, held, and even touched by me. I knew something was wrong but in my head, I justified it as her being not in the mood because she was a little under the weather. Her blood sugar was a little low and she was hungry and had a massive headache.

After we ate, she cleaned up and stayed in the washroom for a long time. She just sat there with her phone on her hand. I urged her to get up and pulled her up. She demeanor towards me shifts from being okay to not being okay. I was hoping it's really just her mood. When she was done washing up, she went to bed and I told her I'd massage her head so to ease the headache. She obliged and was bothered by the lights from the TV.

After I was done massaging her, I lied right next to her and turned off anything that could possibly trigger her migraine. She said, "Why don't you watch TV?" and I told her I was fine to lie down next to her in the dark. Hearing her steady breathing, I fell asleep too. It was 8:13PM.

We woke up because someone rang the doorbell. She said she had something delivered before she slept, so I went up and saw the delivery by the door and it was our neighbor who rang the bell just to make sure we receive it. I thanked him.

I tried to go back to sleep, but I couldn't. Apparently, H too.

Then every now and then she would look at me, feigning anger. I was amused because she looked like a kid who was pretending to be angry. However, she was being hot and cold, I couldn't quite understand how to react to it. Then she said she was hungry so we ordered food online. While waiting, I switched on the TV because she said it didn't bother her anymore and she even offered to massage my legs because they were sore.

The food arrived and we ate in silence.

After we ate, she went back to bed and I cleaned up. Once done, I sat on the couch and continued to watch TV. I lied down on the couch and then out of the blue she asked...

"Magdugay kaya ta?"

I knew what she meant but I was dying to play dumb, so I asked,

"Mag dugay sa asa?"

She clarified, "Kitang duha."

Then I felt a lump in my throat.

"Ngano diay?" Was all I could ask...

She responded, "I still can't sleep. I'm still bothered. I'm still having nightmares. We can't deny that there was a time you forgot you were married. I think kana ang dili ko ever maka get over with. I think I'm meant to be alone... designed to be alone."

I couldn't describe what I felt then. I felt all kinds of emotions, especially shame. I told her I would never do that again and all she replied with is, "You said that last time."

Then she added, "I don't like that you seem so restricted. That you can't even open your Facebook. I feel so guilty of this because you're doing it for me, mura ka'g piniriso."

I said it was my choice and I was doing it for us, not just for her. And I'm happy to do it. I also told her that she never asked me to do it, I thought it was best for us.

Then she said, "I don't know. I feel lost. But I'm trying."

There was some silence, and I remember saying, "What can I do to help?"

Silence...

"I don't know. All I know is, I don't feel the same way about you anymore."

And I literally heard my heart break in pieces. My body trembled with the breaking of my heart and all I could say was, "Ani nalang, when the time comes na lisud na gyud kaayo and gikapoy naka ug try... Let me know kung unsa ang best para nimo."

And the conversation was over. She moved to the far end of the bed, and I was left not knowing what to do. Do I hold her or is it one of those days that she doesn't wanna be held? Do I sleep right next to her? Do I sleep at all?

[jakez19]

Louis-Rene Jacommos 17:58

Message de Jocelyne Mura

[robbiemd]

Ez-chan's Name Day

So, today's Ez-chan's birthday so I decided to put a little surprise to show her my appreciation.

The day started with the Vietnamese ca phe and Choc-nut puncakes that I prepared for us to enjoy while watching Yowamushi Pedal. We waited for a few while until my phone rang signifying the arrival of the sunflower bouquet that I pre-ordered for today.

"Thank you! Magkano 'to?"

Whenever I give her presents, she always responds with these. First, for appreciation. Second, to know how much I spent for the gifts because she doesn't want me to be spending a lot for her.

"Mura lang 'yan." I told her.

She then started to browse for the flowers online. Ultimately, she knew how much it really was. I really can't hide anything from her hehe.

Come afternoon, we ordered pizza and pasta from Gino's. She also booked a whole a** sans rival to complete the celebration. I also gave her a new mechanical keyboard to reciprocate the gift that she gave me for our anniversary.

Happy birthday, Ez-chan! You're well-loved and I'm really proud of you.

3 November 2022 19:22 Quezon City, PH

[thewritetofreespeech]

domestic gom head cannons pleaseee

sure thing!!

GOM Boys Domestic HCs

Akashi

Akashi still wears full outfits. Even when he’s at home.

He likes to garden. Being able to create something, rather than destroy, is very soothing to him

Since he’s rich, all his meals were prepared for him. So he never learned to cook.

Would like someone to teach him and would probably master it in like a day

Prefers to sleep with light linens and be woken up with natural sunlight

Aomine

If he’s not going to play basketball, or doing something with basketball, it’s impossible to get Aomine up & doing anything if he’s home for the day

Despite being a lazy bum most of the time, he does have one redeeming skill: folding laundry

He likes the soft smell and warm clothes when they come out of the dryer. He’s really good at it.

Huge cinephile. Loves watching movies all day on the couch at home. So he’s seen ‘em all.

Prefers to sleep in the dark under a medium down comforter. But will sleep anywhere

Kise

Kise dances in his room with his headphones on

Used to play dress up with his sisters. The ‘official’ start of his modeling career. Still does, super denies it

Likes to play MMO games online. Has a whole set up in his room.

Can only make one thing in the kitchen: American style pancakes

Prefers to sleep with his legs kicked out, and likes to be woken up by his custom ‘Sunshine Pop’ playlist

Kuroko

He hums, or sings very quietly, when he washes the dishes

Prefers to check out books from the library to read so he doesn’t have to keep/store the books when he’s done with them

Has a drawer in his bathroom of ‘deceased’ hair products he’s tried for his multi-cowlicks

He wishes he had siblings, but is scared he’d fade more into the background

Prefers to sleep with a fleece blanket and No. 2 (though he insists he doesn’t let him sleep with him)

Midorima

His love of horoscopes and Oha Asa, is because of his grandmother. She used to watch him and his sister a lot since his parents were so busy

His sister has a lot of tea parties. Midorima always tries to attend, if his school work and practice allow

Doesn’t wear his glasses around the house all the time because he knows where everything is

He has an aquarium in his room. It holds 4 goldfish: ichi, ni, san, shi

Prefers to sleep on his side with a sheet-blanket combo set for maximum coverage and comfort

Murasakibara

Murasakibara thought about staying on campus when he started at Yosen, but decided he would miss home too much

His second oldest brother is his favorite sibling. He told that to his other siblings face.

Because of his size, Mura-kun had to have a custom bed made for him

He has a secret refrigerator in his room for juice & puddings his parents don’t know about

Prefers to sleep scrunched up in a ball, usually around one of his plushies

[lubashivaya]

#MetaCurator 🏹 #MetaCauses🌿🇧🇷 MASP Professores | O FUTURO É INDÍGENA 19.11.2022 | AMANHÃ 10H30 às 17H Os encontros do MASP Professores de 2021/2022 se vinculam ao ciclo expositivo 'Histórias brasileiras' e têm como objetivo criar oportunidades de diálogo sobre o papel dos indivíduos e o que se busca ser enquanto país. Neste segundo semestre, também será estabelecido um diálogo entre este ciclo e os dois próximos: 'Histórias indígenas' (2023) e 'Histórias da diversidade' (2024). Considerando o potencial da arte para discutir sobre memórias e lutas, o MASP Professores se articula a profissionais da educação para construir reflexões e ações perante o que é urgente para a visibilidade de narrativas e identidades plurais do país. O encontro 'O futuro é indígena' tem o objetivo de trazer para o debate diferentes concepções, cosmologias e projetos de sociedade que orientam os muitos povos indígenas do Brasil e que oferecem uma esperança em relação ao futuro. CRONOGRAMA: 10H30–13H30: mesa redonda 13H30–15H: intervalo 15H–17H: conferência CONVIDADOS Mesa redonda: Felipe Tuxá, Márcia Mura e Trudruá Dorrico. Conferência: Gustavo Caboco. Atividade gratuita, online, com tradução simultânea para Libras e transmitida ao vivo pelo YouTube do MASP. Saiba mais: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xU-Z1BrGXCU (em MASP - Museu de Arte de São Paulo Assis Chateaubriand) https://www.instagram.com/p/ClH6uuULLA8/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[digitalpaltform123]

Secure. Reliable. Trusted - Digital Experience Platform

This article investigates the arising field of Digital Experience and records the best computerized experience stages (DXP) that advanced experience directors are utilizing in top organizations today.Prologue to DXM Platforms Advanced experience stages are another variety of big business programming, so there's a ton of equivocalness around what a computerized experience stage really does. Advanced experience stages can pass by many names and play out an assortment of capacities. For instance, computerized experience devices can have segments, for example,

 Content center points, content best digital experience platform  administration software(CMS), or content administration stage Information the board frameworks Client relationship the board (CRM) Client experience stages, client self-administration frameworks, and client care Undertaking UX and UI configuration instrumentsProgramming advancement, DevOps, and application improvement instruments Advanced resource the board Information security, information stockpiling, network checking, and other IT oversaw administrationsInstallment handling innovation It's my objective here to walk you through these arising stages, to assist you with seeing how organizations are utilizing them and show you the top advanced stages you can use to help your venture through the dubious waters of computerized change.

 advanced experience stages The 10 Best Digital Experience Platforms List  Here is a waitlist of the best DXP arrangements today: SAP Fiori Adobe AEM Acquia Contentstack Mura MindTouch Magnolia Pimcore Censhare Thoroughness DXP Software Frequently Asked Questions Begin with computerized experience the executives and its connected innovation with the FAQ beneath. What is advanced insight?Computerized Experience (DX) is an arising discipline zeroed in on working on the cooperations among clients and an association that happens through advanced advances. Advanced connections can be between clients, customers, representatives, and numerous different kinds of clients on computerized applications like sites, entries, games, and online stores.

 There are a huge number of associations a client can have, yet some normal instances of advanced cooperations incorporate watching a promotion, looking for a thing, contributing data, and getting an item.What is advanced experience the executives?Computerized Experience Management (DXM), at times called Digital Customer Experience Management (DCXM), is an arising discipline zeroed in on upgrading associations that are conceivable through advanced advances among clients and associations. It draws on a significant number of similar ideas as Customer Experience (CX) and User Experience (UX).Discover more information on "What is advanced insight?" above. What is a computerized stage?At its center, a computerized stage empowers an association to convey items and benefits and interfaces the capacities that add to their conveyance. Computerized stages contain a layer in an association's environment, giving a bunch of capacities and components like data sets,

 APIs, installment handling innovation, advanced resource the executives, different client entries, content administration programming (CMS), and that's just the beginning. What's an illustration of an advanced stage? Instances of advanced stages include:Commercial center stages, like Etsy or Amazon. Storehouse stages, for example, GitHub and programming relic archives. Search stages, like Google or Youtube. Social stages, like LinkedIn or Facebook. Media stages, like iTunes or Spotify.You'll see that by and large the elements of these stages cross-over, or a solitary stage coordinates the capacities of different stage types.

[itsjusta]

March 18, 2021

had to wake up at 7:30 today cos naa class and quiz and i feel so lain doeee cos 2 kapin nako naka sleep becos idk with this idiot mind and body :(( 2 hrs pa ayha ko naka sleep uyyy issa so hard doe ion like thisss why kaha like dis ko huhuhu

i ordered mcdo for lunch doeee just an iced coffee and chicken fillet cos gusto ko iced coffee uyyy kato new one nga butter caramel issa yummy cos sweet hehe and timing naa discount mcdo doeee just paid thru gcash aish who invested dis online payment uyyy 🤦🏻‍♀️

dis day boring and no ganap doeee just had classes and then nothing naaa tas grabe jd ka hinay amo wifi now galisod ko watch anime and mga vids busa im so bored and la pajd ko ka talk kaw lang :(((( aish what is dis single lyf doe so boooring hhahahah but i need to be anad with dis i have a goal to be single the remaining college life! 🙏🏻

and aishhh i was kahilakon doe when i asked about the contact lens becos i remember sauna we always struggle to taod dat cos smol au imo eyes 🤣🤣 and now issa lain na mag taod for u doeee and im happy maaan that someone is there to take care of u but sad cos its not me naaa 🥺 chour hahah i tried not to cry doeee i took deep breaths but aish takas man luha uy ka cry koooo hahah i know u dont need my care na in ur life uyyy but i like to show my care for u gyd doeee 🥺 u still always a big baby to meee always hahah and i hope i showed u before how much i cared for u doeee but i think u know that man gyd so just let me care for u even now okaaay u know i like taking care of u im like ur momma hahha and aish just cried more writing dis cos our memories are in my heart gyd doe and it still affects meee when i remember theeem heheh u bring a big bottle of mineral water okaaay or a tumbleeer and towel dayon okay and make sure ilis dayon not na pa uga singot kay ma sick ka and ma stinky 🤢 labaw na feet!!! and be careful also saimo contact lens doeee and be careful sa game okay dont get injured anger gyd ko!!! but most importantly just have fun doeee hehe i know u gonna have fun and eat dayon plsss yaw papasmo okaaay!!!

and aish after dis my heart just felt heavy doeee so when i cr to toothbrush and wash face i was crying doeee mura ko idiooot hahahah aishhh when i start cry issa sunod2 na gyd dayon na doe 🤦🏻‍♀️ i want to tell u the things above but ion wanna bother ur busy life na uyyy so here nalang nako write okaaay read it nalang okaaay 🥺

ps: u visit me soon huh ur gift waiting na ohhh im tempted to open it also AHHAHAH hope u had a good day yesterday doooeee i and hope u happy today 🥰 (bcos u will read dis in da morning naman aish)

[chawans]

tagged by best-andréia-friend @havocsey

appearance ♡ i am over 5’5 // i wear glasses/contacts // i have blonde hair // i prefer loose clothing over tight clothing // i have one or more piercings // i have at least one tattoo // i have blue eyes // i have dyed or highlighted my hair // i have gotten plastic surgery // i have or had braces // i sunburn easily // i have freckles // i paint my nails // i typically wear makeup // i don’t often smile // i am pleased with how i look // i prefer nike to adidas // i wear baseball caps backwards

hobbies and interests ♡ i play a sport // i can play an instrument // i am artistic // i know more than one language // i have won a trophy in some sort of competition // i can cook or bake without a recipe // i know how to swim // i enjoy writing // i can do origami // i prefer movies to TV shows // i can execute a perfect somersault // i enjoy singing // i could survive in the wild on my own // i have read a new book series this year // i enjoy spending time with my friends // i travel during school or work breaks // i can do a handstand

relationships ♡ i am in a relationship // i have been single for over a year // i have a crush // i have a best friend i have known for ten years // my parents are together // i have hooked up with my best friend // i am adopted // my crush has confessed to me // i have had a long-distance relationship // i am an only child // i give advice to my friends // i have made an online friend // i met up with someone i have met online

aesthetics ♡ i have heard the ocean in a conch shell // i have seen the sunrise // i enjoy rainy days // i have slept under the stars // i meditate outside // the sound of chirping calms me // i enjoy the smell of the beach // i know what snow tastes like // i listen to music to fall asleep // i enjoy thunderstorms // i enjoy cloud watching // i have attended a bonfire // i pay close attention to colours // i find mystery in the ocean // i enjoy hiking on nature paths // autumn is my favourite season

miscellaneous ♡ i can fall asleep in moving vehicles // i am the mom friend // i live by a certain quote(s) // i like the smell of sharpies // i am involved in extracurricular activities // i enjoy mexican food // i can drive a stick-shift // i believe in true love // i make up scenarios to fall asleep // i sing in the shower // i wish i lived in a video game // i have a canopy above my bed // i am multiracial // i am a redhead // i own at least 3 dogs

i will tag the one and only mura flower @gessh0ku and kat because apparently she’s back @tsundehre

[jerardeusebio]

Retrospect: Saigon

The first thing I do in Vietnam is pee. It isn’t very glamorous, isn’t something that would end up on my Facebook timeline, but here it is. The mundane, inane realities of traveling is oftentimes obscured by the prescribed highlights, but in order to get to them, there are necessary steps to be taken. Most of the time, these are the things we don’t bring out our camera phones for. Technically, the first thing I did after Dylan and I looked through the airplane window, to marvel at the city lights of what presumably was Ho Chi Minh, was to wince in pain. My ears were throbbing and in a matter of seconds became temporarily deaf. Change in altitude. It figures. I think I even cried. Minutes later, no longer deaf and wincing, backpack strapped securely on, two feet back on land, I am peeing.

17 December 2018

The first morning in Ho Chi Minh is dedicated to phở. Dylan and I learned from our many local travels prior that it is vital to watch where the locals eat. We are in Vietnam, hungry. We want the best of their food. And what is about to be proven, yet again, is this: the best referrals aren’t always found online. From our hostel, we randomly choose to turn left and walk the length of the street. We log only a few meters and find a crowded corner restaurant. It isn’t fancy. In fact, it looks like a lot of the eateries in the grittier parts of Manila. Stainless steel tables. No air conditioning. Staff in different clothes. Men and women crowd its tables as soon as they get off their motorcycles, which they park close by. It is almost as if the place is part of their routine for the day, an automatic stop. There’s no way of knowing of course except to ask them. Dylan and I are too hungry to attempt that so we order instead. We continue to wonder, briefly as we begin munching on the generous greens that come with the large soup bowls. I forget what I was just thinking. I forget what day it is. I forget that we’ve committed to veganism for more than a quarter of a year. For a fleeting moment, I forget all the other delicious meals I’ve ever had up until that point.

We walk to the City Hall and gaze at its European architecture. Dozens of other tourists are taking a picture of it, with it. Dylan and I do the same under the shade of a small tree. We walk afterwards to a group of pigeons pecking at whatever we couldn’t see on the pavement. I run to them and Dylan takes a snap as they scatter away, flying for their lives. This is the better-looking part of the city. Our feet, moments later, brings us then to the Notre Dame church, where the crowd is thicker, even though the church is closed. We take more photos of ourselves and the structure, and I couldn’t help but dismiss it. Sure, I’ve seen in it before, blown-up on a wall in a Vietnamese café, a block from where I worked in Makati. It isn’t at all impressive next to the churches, basilicas, and cathedrals I’ve been to back home—but this is Vietnam, it’s part of their history, so we take a couple more photos, even a video. We catch on camera pigeons flying right behind us and get a charge out of our luck.

After checking out the large and interesting post office, we find our way into a charming street left of the church. Bookstores, cafés, and kiosks are lined up the length of the road. I browse through the books on sale and see everything is in Vietnamese, including the fifth installation of the Harry Potter series. Dylan lines up at the prettiest café and orders us cream puffs, which we instantly decide we love. The coffee is too bitter for him, though, and we leave for the Imperial Palace with his cup still half full.

The line for entry at the Imperial Palace is long. Patiently holding our spot in the line, we gaze at the structure through the wrought iron fences. It takes us quite a while, but we get in in the end. At the vehicle ramp, we’re greeted by these bonsais in gorgeous pots. I recognise the plant as kamuning. I push Dylan to smell the flowers, to notice it, to believe I identified it correctly, and to take a photo of me, naturally. The palace interiors is as could be expected. Grand, intricate, Asian, and dated. The palace reminds me of the Marcoses’ Malacañan of the North. The thing I like most are the bunkers, and the maze-like layout of the basement. The garden at the back of the palace is home to a beautiful giant tree, its roots visible on the surface of the ground, the pattern revealing an intricate and altogether interesting display. Dylan and I marvel at the sight before deciding it is time for the War Remnants Museum.

We walk a long way and, in the middle of our search for the museum, even get lost. We tap, tap, tap on our phone screens and wonder what offline Google Maps has that could help. When we finally find it, we’re hungry again and a bit impatient, but the war is such a part of Vietnam’s history and identity that our resolve is renewed. We are certain we want to be here, of all the places we could be going at this hour. Honestly, there has been considerable anticipation for this part of our visit here, at least on my part. To say that I was inconsolable at the end of Miss Saigon would be an understatement. This museum visit is about to give me the cold, hard facts of how the war was for Vietnam and its people. But of course we had formed manageable expectations, and in the first few galleries, our low expectations are met. But gallery after gallery, room after room, we begin to understand the story from the Vietnamese side of that story. We arrive at the top floor, where they show the effects of the chemical warfare not only on the forests and crops, but also on the people who have been disfigured and debilitated by these chemicals. We examine the photographs and read the writings on the wall. My lips part partially. I turn to Dylan and find tears rolling down his cheeks. I look at what he’s eyeing—a disfigured man, a second generation victim and survivor, trying to carve wood using his feet. I scan the room and take in these testaments. Outside, when we exit, a soft wind arrives, rustling the leaves of a towering ficus, and we leave the museum compound knowing well what evil looks like.

On the way to Ben Thanh Market, we pass by a Jollibee. We’d be absurd not to try, so of course we do. And of course the food tastes similar but different, even the drink options are exotic-looking. We spend the rest of our time there watching a skilled staff arrange balloons for a kiddie party.

At Ben Than, Mika lures us with her prowess in Tagalog. The small Vietnamese woman has been selling here a long time and so has worked and is actually friends with a Filipina, who presumably has been teaching her. We compliment her repeatedly for her mastery of our language, her sheer interest and charm while using it. “Mura lang, bigyan kitang tawad.” She could easily pass as one of us, albeit very business-minded one. We buy embroidered wallets and trinkets of all sorts. We leave unsure if we really got the promised discounts.

The first night in Ho Chih Minh is also dedicated to phở. This time we try to be a just a tad bit fancy and walk in Phở 2000 for dinner, above a swanky looking Seattle’s Best. We feast on vegetarian options until our tummies hurt, enough to call it a day, enough to know that it’s a perfect first day.

18 December 2018

Of course the tour guide chose a Hollywood star’s name, the original Tomb Raider. Equipped with a microphone, Jolie is a small lady with brown-orange hair and red spots on either cheeks. She spews out a joke, which half of the van’s passengers laugh at, including me. I laugh purely to show courtesy. Jolie’s English deliciously betrays Angelina’s, and I love her for it. I stare at her for a few seconds and wonder what her actual name is. Could it be Nguyen, as what’s on every other signage we pass by on our way to the Mekong River? I would ask her, except Dylan and I are way at the back. Right across the isle is an Australian-but-Asian-looking dad with his two sons. I look at the passengers and feel a sense of pride that most of us have some Asian features about us. I don’t know why I’m saying this, but I think the whites win in the end, because we all understand English.

We booked this tour shortly after our encounter with Mika at the market, for a ridiculously discounted rate. Dylan is a pro at haggling—and math—and I have therefore advised myself never to leave without him. Even this time, I can say, he out-haggled himself. Prideful people like me find it hard to ask other people for discounts. It could easily be mistaken for begging. What I learned from Dylan is that it’s not bad to try, and the savvy entrepreneur would never say yes to a breakeven setup.

When I finally get the hang of balancing myself in the boat, I get this thought: Mekong River is okay. I mean, it is historic and has given a lot to the people around it. That’s all good. That’s all well. It is an honour and a privilege to be gallivanting on its waters, a dream even. The tour, as it turns out, though, is as basic as it can get. Back to how mundane, uneventful things are and can be necessary, too? That’s what I am beginning to feel. We’ve been navigating through narrow ducts into wider ducts and back into narrow ones. The boats are plenty, enough to obscure the brown waters where they float on. Water palms encroach the space above us, on either side. It’s wonderful and certainly interesting in photos, but that’s about it. (Either this or we didn’t get the best tour.)

At lunch, while waiting for our feast, Dylan and I interact with a couple from Brazil, who like us have been on a vegetarian diet for a while, but (still like us) have decided to make exceptions on this trip every now and then, just like we were all about to do with the fried elephant ear fish that has just been served. We also interact with a Polish couple, who recommend highly that we visit northern Vietnam for its milder, more provincial feel. After finishing off what the rest of our table couldn’t, Dylan and I explore the rest of the place (there were snakes and crocodiles and monkeys) with the others and followed the rest of the itinerary.

It is almost dusk when we arrive back in the now familiar Ben Than Market. We look for Mika and buy more items we think we can’t afford to forget, like ref magnets and more of those wallets. For dinner, we decide to continue on our never-ending quest for phở served by the street. We find it, and about an hour later are licking ice cream at the Note Coffee place at Bùi Viên. 

When we arrive back at our hostel, we decide to try the local beer. It is our last night in Ho Chi Minh, and we finally strike a conversation with Túan, who mans our front desk.

Tùan here, we discover after just a bottle of beer, has a different view on the United States and the war. He believes that his government has been tricking people to believe the US forces were bad, that they did them wrong and should be hated. It’s all propaganda and politics, he says. To him, Ho Chi Minh will never be Ho Chi Minh—it has and will always be Saigon. He confesses he loves Americans and dollars, and that he’d love to get to the United States someday. Tùan reminds me of The Engineer character in Miss Saigon, and I climb up the stairs minutes later playing the songs from the musical, all in my head. I feel a bit sad.

19 December 2018

We have our last Vietnamese meal at Veggie Saigon, a vegetarian restaurant we spotted yesterday. The food arrives on our table and we are blown away by how delicious and different everything is. We immediately get sad for not knowing about the place sooner, that we were about to hop on a bus three blocks from where we were, it was just a matter of hours now. We’ve never heard anything about Cambodian food—that made me anxious, a little bit, and then it didn’t. 

As far as Dylan and I are concerned, Vietnam has delivered and given us an unforgettable gastronomic experience, among so many other things. 

When the best meal of our Ho Chi Minh stay is done, we begin our walk to where the bus is supposed to pick us up. I feel my bag pressing against my back and weighing my shoulders down. It has gotten a tad heavier, as I know I have these past days. 

It is late afternoon when reach the border. From the bus window, I look at the building we’re approaching. With the sunlight slanting the way it is, I only make out the roof’s silhouette, but Khmer architecture is unmistakeable. Our conductor instructs of the procedure. We’re about to go down and appear before the immigration officer. I open my bag to check that my documents are ready. After I confirm this, I make a quick run to the bus’s toilet, which I begin to smell two meters away. 

Bracing for the ordeal, I inhale a lung-full of air. I step in. Yes, the last thing I do in Vietnam is pee.

[riehayasaka]

Today's Japanese Bhakti yoga online class. 『The Hidden Path of Devotion』P.35〜P.39 Explanation of Sadhu Maharaja: .｡.✽.｡.:*:.｡.❁.｡. To follow what Rupa Manjari says means to follow what Gurudev says. This is the fastest way to proceed without anxiety. Guru Manjari is looking at us in the same way that Rupa Manjari is watching the actions of other Sakhees. Other Sakhees and Gopies want to see Krishna, but Rupa Manjari wants to see only Radharani. That's why we have to look at Guru Manjari and have to listen and follow. When a person has a material consciousness, he sees himself both physically and soulfully. Then he wants to have a material friend, a material partner. When one recognizes himself as a soul, he sees the super soul, Krishna. Only the soul can see the super soul, Krishna. This is nature, a natural thing. If we qualify from Guru Manjari to become Manjari, We will be able to see Radha like "I'm a Radha dasi", "my Swamini" , "my husband is Radha", and so on. Through our feelings, we see things. We look at things with what our feeling. This is the false ego. This is what this book teaches. Here I teach the method of Raganuga Bhakti. So We should follow Guru Manjari. I sincerely and faithfully follow the teachings of my guru. Understand the feeling of Narana Maharaja. He is teaching to Maharaja. And He also teaches us. He shows us a vision so that we don't go wrong. It is dark and raining at night. If we follow the Jayananda Maharaja we can get feeling, sweetness and humility. This is need to do affectionate service and this is the devotion. There is no false ego here, false ego causes problems in our lives. This is "Mura Mati". Mura means foolish, Mati means mind. A foolish mind is a false ego. I want to be a useless in this material world to the fullest. That way I can be manjari. .｡.✽.｡.:*:.｡.❁.｡. I'm so lucky to have two gurus. I don't want to get lost anymore... Jay Shree Radhe Jay Gurudev Jay Guru Parampara Jay Guru Manjari Jay Guru Ma Jay Radha dasi Dhandhavad to all. Radhe Radhe♡ (Japan) https://www.instagram.com/p/CdyGXM6rrSF/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[mydarlingfilm]

TIME DOESN’T HEAL

This is going to be a very long post and I would love to read it over and over again. It was painful and timeless at the same time. This conversation is hold between an Rolling stone and Pk.

In her first-ever in-depth interview, Michael Jackson's daughter discusses her father's pain and finding peace after addiction and heartache

Paris-Michael Katherine Jackson is staring at a famous corpse. "That's Marilyn Monroe," she whispers, facing a wall covered with gruesome autopsy photos. "And that's JFK. You can't even find these online." On a Thursday afternoon in late November, Paris is making her way through the Museum of Death, a cramped maze of formaldehyde-scented horrors on Hollywood Boulevard. It's not uncommon for visitors, confronted with decapitation photos, snuff films and serial-killer memorabilia, to faint, vomit or both. But Paris, not far removed from the emo and goth phases of her earlier teens, seems to find it all somehow soothing. This is her ninth visit. "It's awesome," she had said on the way over. "They have a real electric chair and a real head!"

Paris Jackson turned 18 last April, and moment by moment, can come across as much older or much younger, having lived a life that's veered between sheltered and agonizingly exposed. She is a pure child of the 21st century, with her mashed-up hippie-punk fashion sense (today she's wearing a tie-dye button-down, jeggings and Converse high-tops) and boundary-free musical tastes (she's decorated her sneakers with lyrics by Mötley Crüe and Arctic Monkeys; is obsessed with Alice Cooper – she calls him "bae" – and the singer-songwriter Butch Walker; loves Nirvana and Justin Bieber too). But she is, even more so, her father's child. "Basically, as a person, she is who my dad is," says her older brother, Prince Michael Jackson. "The only thing that's different would be her age and her gender." Paris is similar to Michael, he adds, "in all of her strengths, and almost all of her weaknesses as well. She's very passionate. She is very emotional to the point where she can let emotion cloud her judgment." 

Paris has, with impressive speed, acquired more than 50 tattoos, sneaking in the first few while underage. Nine of them are devoted to Michael Jackson, who died when she was 11 years old, sending her, Prince and their youngest brother, Blanket, spiraling out of what had been – as they perceived it – a cloistered, near-idyllic little world. "They always say, 'Time heals,'" she says. "But it really doesn't. You just get used to it. I live life with the mentality of 'OK, I lost the only thing that has ever been important to me.' So going forward, anything bad that happens can't be nearly as bad as what happened before. So I can handle it." Michael still visits her in her dreams, she says: "I feel him with me all the time."

Michael, who saw himself as Peter Pan, liked to call his only daughter Tinker Bell. She has FAITH, TRUST AND PIXIE DUST inked near her clavicle. She has an image from the cover of Dangerous on her forearm, the Bad logo on her hand, and the words QUEEN OF MY HEART – in her dad's handwriting, from a letter he wrote her – on her inner left wrist. "He's brought me nothing but joy," she says. "So why not have constant reminders of joy?" 

She fixes her huge blue-green eyes on each of the museum's attractions without flinching, until she comes to a section of taxidermied pets. "I don't really like this room," she says, wrinkling her nose. "I draw the line with animals. I can't do it. This breaks my heart." She recently rescued a hyperactive pit-bull-mix puppy, Koa, who has an uneasy coexistence with Kenya, a snuggly Labrador her dad brought home a decade ago.

Paris describes herself as "desensitized" to even the most graphic reminders of human mortality. In June 2013, drowning in depression and a drug addiction, she tried to kill herself at age 15, slashing her wrist and downing 20 Motrin pills. "It was just self-hatred," she says, "low self-esteem, thinking that I couldn't do anything right, not thinking I was worthy of living anymore." She had been self-harming, cutting herself, managing to conceal it from her family. Some of her tattoos now cover the scars, as well as what she says are track marks from drug use. Before that, she had already attempted suicide "multiple times," she says, with an incongruous laugh. "It was just once that it became public." The hospital had a "three-strike rule," she recalls, and, after that last attempt, insisted she attend a residential therapy program.

Home-schooled before her father's death, Paris had agreed to attend a private school starting in seventh grade. She didn't fit in – at all – and started hanging out with the only kids who accepted her, "a lot of older people doing a lot of crazy things," she says. "I was doing a lot of things that 13-, 14-, 15-year-olds shouldn't do. I tried to grow up too fast, and I wasn't really that nice of a person." She also faced cyberbullying, and still struggles with cruel online comments. "The whole freedom-of-speech thing is great," she says. "But I don't think that our Founding Fathers predicted social media when they created all of these amendments and stuff." 

There was another trauma that she's never mentioned in public. When she was 14, a much older "complete stranger" sexually assaulted her, she says. "I don't wanna give too many details. But it was not a good experience at all, and it was really hard for me, and, at the time, I didn't tell anybody."

After her last suicide attempt, she spent sophomore year and half of junior year at a therapeutic school in Utah. "It was great for me," she says. "I'm a completely different person." Before, she says with a small smile, "I was crazy. I was actually crazy. I was going through a lot of, like, teen angst. And I was also dealing with my depression and my anxiety without any help." Her father, she says, also struggled with depression, and she was prescribed the same antidepressants he once took, though she's no longer on any psych meds.

Now sober and happier than she's ever been, with menthol cigarettes her main remaining vice, Paris moved out of her grandma Katherine's house shortly after her 18th birthday, heading to the old Jackson family estate. She spends nearly every minute of each day with her boyfriend, Michael Snoddy, a 26-year-old drummer – he plays with the percussion ensemble Street Drum Corps – and Virginia native whose dyed mohawk, tattoos and perpetually sagging pants don't obscure boy-band looks and a puppy-dog sweetness. "I never met anyone before who made me feel the way music makes me feel," says Paris. When they met, he had an ill-considered, now-covered Confederate flag tattoo that raised understandable doubts among the Jacksons. "But the more I actually got to know him," says Prince, "he's a really cool guy."

Paris took a quick stab at community college after graduating high school – a year early – in 2015, but wasn't feeling it. She is an heir to a mammoth fortune – the Michael Jackson Family Trust is likely worth more than $1 billion, with disbursements to the kids in stages. But she wants to earn her own money, and now that she's a legal adult, to embrace her other inheritance: celebrity.

And in the end, as the charismatic, beautiful daughter of one of the most famous men who ever lived, what choice did she have? She is, for now, a model, an actress, a work in progress. She can, when she feels like it, exhibit a regal poise that's almost intimidating, while remaining chill enough to become pals with her giant-goateed tattoo artist. She has impeccable manners – you might guess that she was raised well. She so charmed producer-director Lee Daniels in a recent meeting that he's begun talking to her manager about a role for her on his Fox show, Star . She plays a few instruments, writes and sings songs (she performs a couple for me on acoustic guitar, and they show promise, though they're more Laura Marling than MJ), but isn't sure if she'll ever pursue a recording contract.

Modeling, in particular, comes naturally, and she finds it therapeutic. "I've had self-esteem issues for a really, really long time," says Paris, who understands her dad's plastic-surgery choices after watching online trolls dissect her appearance since she was 12. "Plenty of people think I'm ugly, and plenty of people don't. But there's a moment when I'm modeling where I forget about my self-esteem issues and focus on what the photographer's telling me – and I feel pretty. And in that sense, it's selfish."

But mostly, she shares her father's heal-the-world impulses ("I'm really scared for the Great Barrier Reef," she says. "It's, like, dying. This whole planet is. Poor Earth, man"), and sees fame as a means to draw attention to favored causes. "I was born with this platform," she says. "Am I gonna waste it and hide away? Or am I going to make it bigger and use it for more important things?"

Her dad wouldn't have minded. "If you wanna be bigger than me, you can," he'd tell her. "If you don't want to be at all, you can. But I just want you to be happy."

At the moment, Paris lives in the private studio where her dad demoed "Beat It." The Tudor-style main house in the now-empty Jackson family compound in the LA neighborhood of Encino – purchased by Joe Jackson in 1971 with some of the Jackson 5's first Motown royalties, and rebuilt by Michael in the Eighties – is under renovation. But the studio, built by Michael in a brick building across the courtyard, happens to be roughly the size of a decent Manhattan apartment, with its own kitchen and bathroom. Paris has turned it into a vibe-y, cozy dorm room. 

Traces of her father are everywhere, most unmistakably in the artwork he commissioned. Outside the studio is a framed picture, done in a Disney-like style, of a cartoon castle on a hilltop with a caricatured Michael in the foreground, a small blond boy embracing him.It's captioned "Of Children, Castles & Kings." Inside is a mural taking up an entire wall, with another cartoon Michael in the corner, holding a green book titled The Secret of Life and looking down from a window at blooming flowers – at the center of each bloom is a cartoon face of a red-cheeked little girl.

Above an adjacent garage is a mini-museum Michael created as a surprise gift for his family, with the walls and even ceilings covered with photos from their history. Michael used to rehearse dance moves in that room; now Paris' boyfriend has his drum kit set up there.

We head out to a nearby sushi restaurant, and Paris starts to describe life in Neverland. She spent her first seven years in her dad's 2,700-acre fantasy world, with its own amusement park, zoo and movie theater. ("Everything I never got to do as a kid," Michael called it.) During that time, she didn't know that her father's name was Michael, let alone have any grasp of his fame. "I just thought his name was Dad, Daddy," she says. "We didn't really know who he was. But he was our world. And we were his world." (Paris declared last year's Captain Fantastic , where Viggo Mortensen plays an eccentric dad who tries to create a utopian hideaway for his kids, her "favorite movie ever.")

We couldn't just go on the rides whenever we wanted to," she recalls, walking on a dark roadside near the Encino compound. She likes to stride along the lane divider, too close to the cars – it drives her boyfriend crazy, and I don't much like it either. "We actually had a pretty normal life. Like, we had school every single day, and we had to be good. And if we were good, every other weekend or so, we could choose whether we were gonna go to the movie theater or see the animals or whatever. But if you were on bad behavior, then you wouldn't get to go do all those things." 

In his 2011 memoir, Michael's brother Jermaine called him "an example of what fatherhood should be. He instilled in them the love Mother gave us, and he provided the kind of emotional fathering that our father, through no fault of his own, could not. Michael was father and mother rolled into one."

Michael gave the kids the option of going to regular school. They declined. "When you're at home," says Paris, "your dad, who you love more than anything, will occasionally come in, in the middle of class, and it's like, 'Cool, no more class for the day. We're gonna go hang out with Dad.' We were like, 'We don't need friends. We've got you and Disney Channel!'" She was, she acknowledges, "a really weird kid."

Her dad taught her how to cook, soul food, mostly. "He was a kick-ass cook," she says. "His fried chicken is the best in the world. He taught me how to make sweet potato pie." Paris is baking four pies, plus gumbo, for grandma Katherine's Thanksgiving – which actually takes place the day before the holiday, in deference to Katherine's Jehovah's Witness beliefs.

Michael schooled Paris on every conceivable genre of music. "My dad worked with Van Halen, so I got into Van Halen," she says."He worked with Slash, so I got into Guns N' Roses. He introduced me to Tchaikovsky and Debussy, Earth, Wind and Fire, the Temptations, Tupac, Run-DMC."

"His number-one focus for us," says Paris, "besides loving us, was education. And he wasn't like, 'Oh, yeah, mighty Columbus came to this land!' He was like, 'No. He fucking slaughtered the natives.'" Would he really phrase it that way? "He did have kind of a potty mouth. He cussed like a sailor." But he was also "very shy."

Paris and Prince are quite aware of public doubts about their parentage (the youngest brother, Blanket, with his darker skin, is the subject of less speculation). Paris' mom is Debbie Rowe, a nurse Michael met while she was working for his dermatologist, the late Arnold Klein. They had what sounds like an unconventional three-year marriage, during which, Rowe once testified, they never shared a home. Michael said that Rowe wanted to have his children "as a present" to him. (Rowe said that Paris got her name from the location of her conception.) Klein, her employer, was one of several men – including the actor Mark Lester, who played the title role in the 1968 movie Oliver! – who suggested that they could be Paris' actual biological father.

Over popcorn shrimp and a Clean Mean Salmon Roll, Paris agrees to address this issue for what she says will be the only time. She could opt for an easy, logical answer, could point out that it doesn't matter, that either way, Michael Jackson was her father. That's what her brother – who describes himself as "more objective" than Paris – seems to suggest. "Every time someone asks me that," Prince says, "I ask, 'What's the point? What difference does it make?' Specifically to someone who's not involved in my life. How does that affect your life? It doesn't change mine."

But Paris is certain that Michael Jackson was her biological dad. She believes it with a fervency that is both touching and, in the moment, utterly convincing. "He is my father," she says, making fierce eye contact. "He will always be my father. He never wasn't, and he never will not be. People that knew him really well say they see him in me, that it's almost scary.

"I consider myself black," she says, adding later that her dad "would look me in the eyes and he'd point his finger at me and he'd be like, 'You're black. Be proud of your roots.' And I'd be like, 'OK, he's my dad, why would he lie to me?' So I just believe what he told me. 'Cause, to my knowledge, he's never lied to me.

"Most people that don't know me call me white," Paris concedes. "I've got light skin and, especially since I've had my hair blond, I look like I was born in Finland or something." She points out that it's far from unheard of for mixed-race kids to look like her – accurately noting that her complexion and eye color are similar to the TV actor Wentworth Miller's, who has a black dad and a white mom.

At first, she had no relationship with Rowe. "When I was really, really young, my mom didn't exist," Paris recalls. Eventually, she realized "a man can't birth a child" – and when she was 10 or so, she asked Prince, "We gotta have a mom, right?" So she asked her dad. "And he's like, 'Yeah.' And I was like, 'What's her name?' And he's just like, 'Debbie.' And I was like, 'OK, well, I know the name.'" After her father's death, she started researching her mom online, and they got together when Paris was 13.

In the wake of her treatment in Utah, Paris decided to reach out again to Rowe. "She needed a mother figure," says Prince, who declines to comment on his own relationship, or lack thereof, with Rowe. (Paris' manager declined to make Rowe available for an interview, and Rowe did not respond to our request for comment.) "I've had a lot of mother figures," Paris counters, citing her grandmother and nannies, among others, "but by the time my mom came into my life, it wasn't a 'mommy' thing. It's more of an adult relationship." Paris sees herself in Rowe, who just completed a course of chemo in a fight against breast cancer: "We're both very stubborn."

Paris Jackson was around nine years old when she realized that much of the world didn't see her father the way she did. "My dad would cry to me at night," she says, sitting at the counter of a New York coffee shop in mid-December, cradling a tiny spoon in her hand. She starts to cry too. "Picture your parent crying to you about the world hating him for something he didn't do. And for me, he was the only thing that mattered. To see my entire world in pain, I started to hate the world because of what they were doing to him. I'm like, 'How can people be so mean?'" She pauses. "Sorry, I'm getting emotional." 

Paris and Prince have no doubts that their father was innocent of the multiple child-molestation allegations against him, that the man they knew was the real Michael. Again, they are persuasive – if they could go door-to-door talking about it, they could sway the world."Nobody but my brothers and I experienced him reading A Light in the Attic to us at night before we went to bed," says Paris."Nobody experienced him being a father to them. And if they did, the entire perception of him would be completely and forever changed." I gently suggest that what Michael said to her on those nights was a lot to put on a nine-year-old. "He did not bullshit us," she replies. "You try to give kids the best childhood possible. But you also have to prepare them for the shitty world."

Michael's 2005 molestation trial ended in an acquittal, but it shattered his reputation and altered the course of his family's lives. He decided to leave Neverland for good. They spent the next four years traveling the world, spending long stretches of time in the Irish countryside, in Bahrain, in Las Vegas. Paris didn't mind – it was exciting, and home was where her dad was.

By 2009, Michael was preparing for an ambitious slate of comeback performances at London's O2 Arena. "He kind of hyped it up to us," recalls Paris. "He was like, 'Yeah, we're gonna live in London for a year.' We were super-excited – we already had a house out there we were gonna live in." But Paris remembers his "exhaustion" as rehearsals began. "I'd tell him, 'Let's take a nap,'" she says."Because he looked tired. We'd be in school, meaning downstairs in the living room, and we'd see dust falling from the ceiling and hear stomping sounds because he was rehearsing upstairs."

Paris has a lingering distaste for AEG Live, the promoters behind the planned This Is It tour – her family lost a wrongful-death suit against them, with the jury accepting AEG's argument that Michael was responsible for his own death. "AEG Live does not treat their performers right," she alleges. "They drain them dry and work them to death." (A rep for AEG declined comment.) She describes seeing Justin Bieber on a recent tour and being "scared" for him. "He was tired, going through the motions. I looked at my ticket, saw AEG Live, and I thought back to how my dad was exhausted all the time but couldn't sleep."

[sugoipilipinas]

都道府県 (Prefectures)

By Meiji Purin

How does it feel to go back to Japan after JENESYS 2.0?

I felt excited once again as I get the chance to explore the other prefectures of japan.

There were many people lining up to take a picture with the statue of the most loyal dog in japan , Hachiko . The statue of Hachiko is one of the most visited tourist spots in Shibuya.

With akita-chan

Studio Ghibli Museum at Mitaka. You have to book your visit online at least 2 months before.

Nagasaki Atomic Bomb Epicenter Memorial. 

Photo: Alec Egido

Picture with  RX-78-2  at Odaiba. You can go here via Yurikamome Line. Photo: Alec Egido

Did you notice any significant changes compared to the last time you visited? 

The surrounding of major cities is almost the same as when I last visit. As for my return travel, I got used to riding the train and finding the correct station.

Watched cute pikachu dance dance at Minato-Mirai, Yokohama

Getting ready to attend the 2015 Summer Comiket at Tokyo Big Sight. 

Photo: Alec Egido

Cosplayed as Sakura Haruno during the 2015 Summer Comiket in Tokyo. 

Photo: Alec Egido

Sendai Castle. Of course, the colossal titan is not there XD.

Nebuta Festival, Aomori. 

Photo: Alec Egido

What was the purpose of your return visit, and where did you go? 

My purpose is to visit all the prefectures and experience all the four seasons in japan. During my summer trip in August 2015, we visited the following prefectures: Aichi, Osaka, Fukuoka, Nagasaki, Aomori, Sendai, Tokyo and Yokohama. We had the chance to attend  Aomori’s Nebuta Festival and Sendai’s Tanabata Festival. We also attended the Summer ComiKet in Tokyo Big Sight.  My second return trip was last November 2017 and visited Kyoto, Nara and Ibaraki during.

Fireworks at Nebuta Festival 

Photo: Alec Egido

Tanabata Festival. You can buy choco banana and candied apples.

Giant Panda at Ueno Zoo

My favorite majestic Alpaca at Ueno Zoo

Any first-time experience this time around that you could share to us?

It was first time for me do an authentic tea ceremony courtesy of our Airbnb host. It was a nice unique experience.

There were less people in Universal Studios Japan compared last Summer.

Melon Pan for Breakfast

Many tourists visit Fushimi Inari

Macha Taiyaki

What are your “tips” to those who are planning to go to Japan and/or any” must-sees” or “must-dos” that you could recommend? 

You must plan your itinerary well and try to schedule sight-seeing places which are relatively near each other on the same day. You must also condition your body to long walks. Expect 5-7 hours of walking!

Dark Forest of Nara Park

You can feed the deer with snacks.

Osaka castle. There is a museum inside the castle

Anything else prospective travelers should know before going to Japan?

You should know how to find your train ride. You can use an app online to find it. The app will tell you the platform you should be in and the time the train will leave the platform. If you are in Tokyo, you can get a copy of a Translated map at the station.

Tourists can ride Meiji Mura’s steam train.

They have a place where you can rent a costume in Meiji Mura

[leoinjapan]

~25th march / ～３月２５日

after ollie went home, i didnt do much for a few days apart from go to harajuku and shinjuku again to run some errands. while i was in harajuku, i queued up at 8am to the LINE store where bts were selling their plushies for a few days only. the line had about 6000 people, spilling onto the roads, probably the most unruly gathering of people i have seen yet in japan. when the location of the queue was announced online (to avoid creating a large queue in front of the store) the whole crowd started running! i think some people were injured. i managed to get a spot in the line, but we were all given lottery tickets and only those who drew a winning ticket got to go into the store, which i didn’t. bts’ popularity is truly scary.

on the 21st, me and two friends flew to okinawa, an island 2 hours south of japan by plane, near taiwan. it’s usually very hot, but this time of year it was a pleasant temperature with a cool breeze. because people usually visit in the summer, it was also not too crowded.

if you don’t know about the history of okinawa, it was once the main island of the ryukyu kingdom, composed of the collection of islands in the area, until it was annexed by japan in 1879. during this time, ryukyu culture was slowly whittled away at by the japanese rule. during world war 2, okinawa was used as a large battleground between the US and japan, in which huge numbers of okinawans were forced into battle and killed, with many sacred and cultural sites destroyed by bombing. now, it contains the highest amount of US military bases on japanese ground despite being so much smaller than the mainland.

i wanted to come to okinawa because i am deeply interested by this history and wanted to experience the place that i have been learning about firsthand, and i was not disappointed.

on the first day we headed to the peace memorial park, where the okinawan victims of the war are memorialized. we quickly learned that the bus system is not great, and always a lot later than advertised, so we didn’t have as much time to look around here than i’d liked, especially after we had accidentally gotten a 6 course lunch there that sucked up time (though it was delicious!)

i learned a lot from the museum, which did not shy away from placing blame on the west and japan. it details japan’s stripping of okinawan culture, and goes on to detail the horrors of the battle of okinawa. pictured above are history textbooks from different countries that mention okinawa, which were very telling.

in one of the later rooms, many testimonials from survivors of the wars were on display. there was an eerie silence as we read them. it’s quite hard to even imagine the horror that the testimonials describe.

afterwards, the museum encourages us to fight for okinawan rights in the present. at the end, the exhibition opens to a beautiful view of the cliffs, where less than a century ago a battle took place.

afterwards, we headed to meet our other friend at the american village, a very tourist-y area with american restaurants and shops. it was extremely ironic to go from the peace memorial to an american village. at the village, there is a beach called sunset beach, because you can watch the sunset from it. to our pleasant surprise, there were also dozens of friendly stray cats that wanted to play with us. for dinner we went to an okinawan restaurant and i had gyouza and a chicken steak.

the next day we had arranged to go on a bus tour; it was a really good deal for what it included. first, we drove for an hour or so to nago pineapple park, where we got to try the local pineapple and walk around a pineapple garden.

next we went to ryugujo, a butterfly paradise, where lots of butterflies are kept. speaks for itself really. we also got free okinawa soba

for the main event, we went to churaumi aquarium, which boasts the most whale sharks and most manta rays kept in captivity in the world. since whale sharks are local to okinawa, these whale sharks were caught locally. there are three at the aquarium in total. they were absolutely huge and mesmerizing to watch. the aquarium promotes a love of sharks and proving their innocence, which is really valuable.

the aquarium is in an expo that has a lot of attractions, including a dolphin show theatre, manatees and sea turtle exhibits, and okinawan culture centres. we walked for a few minutes and came to emerald beach which, like most okinawan beaches, had white sand, blue water and coral.

finally, we went to a sweet shop called okashi goten, and got to try lots of the local delicacies. okinawa is famous for its purple sweet potatoes, purple yams and its salt. my favourite is the salt cookie (chinsukou).

overall the tour was really great. the tour guide was really nice and also sang some okinawan traditional songs. i didn’t understand a lot of what she said because it was in quite complicated japanese, though.

on the third day we went to ryukyu mura, a village based on a traditional ryukyu village. we got to see an eisaa performance, a traditional ryukyu dance with drums, singing and whistling. the village consists of lots of old houses, reconstructions from ones that have been torn down or destroyed during okinawa’s history. they sell things exclusive to okinawa, like tea, habu sake (sake made with deadly habu snakes), coral accessories and indigo dyed cloth.

since there was another beach nearby - moon beach - we headed to that and relaxed for a little while. i didn’t really feel like dipping my feet in, though, so i just napped.

after that, we didn’t have a lot of time, but we attempted to get to shuri castle. destroyed in the battle of okinawa, the castle and many things around it are reconstructions. it was once the centre of politics for the ryukyu kingdom.

once we got there it was only open for another 2 minutes. we ran inside to get a picture and then ran straight back out, so we weren’t able to see the actual castle. just another reason to come back!

in the evening we went to kokusai doori (international street) which mainly has restaurants and souvenir shops. we went to an okinawan restaurant and i had purple yam croquettes which were delicious, plus okinawan salt yakisoba and okinawan pancake.

this morning we took the plane back home. i think three days were definitely not enough. i would love to come back when my japanese is much better so that i can engage more fully with the history and talk with the locals.

[a-splash-of-stucky]

i was tagged by the gorgeous @buchonians​ - thank you darling!

nicknames: Elsa (it’s actually my nickname, not my real name, guys), queen, bitch

gender: female

star sign: ♎️

height: 162 cm, whatever that converts to

time: 9.43pm

birthday: 12th Oct 1998

favourite bands: pentatonix, fall out boy, the wanted

favourite solo artists: MAX, Halsey, Mura Masa, ODESZA, Kiiara, Troye Sivan

song stuck in my head: I actually have two; ‘The Last of the Real Ones’ (fall out boy) and ‘Wishlist’ (Kiiara)

last movie i watched: Kingsman: The Golden Circle

last show i watched: i don’t really watch TV shows, tbh. 

when did i create my blog: 25th Aug 2017

what do i post: reblog a lot of marvel shit, as well as various seb- and chris evans-related things. STUCKY. Original reader-insert fics

last thing i googled: VOGRIPA (it’s an online database on volcanic eruptions)

do i have any other blogs: yes 

do i get asks: Eh. 90% of the time it’s someone asking to be added to a particular taglist, sometimes I’ll get lovely people giving me the most amazing feedback and on occasion I’ll get random nice tid-bits. 

why i chose my url: bc the first blog I had on here was ‘a-sprinkling-of-desire’, so I played on that. Swapped out ‘sprinkling’ for ‘splash’ and added in ‘stucky’ to make it marvel-related

following: 192

followers:  960 (!!!!!! if I hit 1k imma host a writing challenge fam)

average hours of sleep: 7ish

lucky number: don’t believe in lucky numbers, but if I had to pick? 12

instruments: i’m okay at the piano

what am i wearing: black cotton lounge pants, Uniqlo jumper, a black t-shirt that says “this is ‘17″ on the front - it was our leavers’ t-shirt from school

dream job: environmental problem-solver, of some kind

dream trip: ICELAND!!! (or south america)

favourite food: Cheesecake -- but specifically from this shop back home

nationality: 🇲🇾

fave song: don’t really have one....maybe it’s ‘Hopeless’ by Halsey

tag up to 30 people you want to get to know better:

@sanjariti @hollycornish @hellomissmabel @retroasgardian @bidianaprinxe @moonbeambucky @pineapplebarnes @amour-quinn @in-winchester-we-trust

[cawaii03chimiecuh]

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