Typing is hard. This is because moving my arms to the appropriate level for the keyboard is deeply challenging. And this is because I rowed the streets of Babylon, rings of Saturn and covered a decent chunk of Antarctica.
Remember when your mother told you not to take sweets from strangers, don’t eat from the tree of knowledge of good and evil and never NEVER accept blue sushi handed to you from a mythological water demon?
"I erased him from my world," the girl sat with her friends in a restaurant, discussing a failed date with one of her housemates. The outing in question was with a guy named Yuudai who had the tenacity of wet spaghetti and wanted a girlfriend who would do everything for him, down to putting on his socks. I knew these details because I had watched the entire proceedings unfold the week before.
I took a bite of chocolate cake as I gazed out at the enchanted Medieval village. Overlooking the beige stone turrets, the evening sun was sinking into the snow-capped summit of Mount Fuji. I chewed thoughtfully. There were many aspects of my current situation that were surprising.
“So here we are.” The samurai was robed in black, his dark hair tumbling over one side of his face, partially concealing the eye patch. He looked around the small chapel. “I’ve never been to a wedding like this... I mean...” he clarifies awkwardly. “This is the first time I’ve been married.”
The princess agreed to marry the prince if he completed a thousand temples in one night. By summoning a horde of demons, the prince completed 999 temples before the cock crowed. When the princess refused her hand, he turned her to stone and she became the 1000th statue.
The conference in Indonesia was the strangest I'd ever attended. This was partially because it was a mix of scientists, artists and space enthusiasts. And partially because there was an alien in the foyer.
A story goes that hundreds of years ago, the hand of a princess was offered to the warrior who could defeat the enemies of a certain clan. This doubtless seemed like a romantic ideal until the triumphant victor turned out to be a dog.
It is very hard to refuse an invitation to an exhibit that promises to be the juxtaposition of sake (yes, the Japanese alcohol), technology and art. Although I admit it was perhaps rather less necessary to illegally break in.
Leaning over the seated figure, I cupped one palm around each of her exposed breasts and squeezed. Cameras snapped as I pressed a thumb against each nipple. Not a bad texture, but the uniform consistency meant a hard squeeze compressed the flesh too much. Then someone came up beside me took off her head.
When I grow up, I want to be Yayoi Kusama. At 87, the Japanese artist wears her hair a shocking orange-red and paints psychedelic scenes of abstract polkadot landscapes you suspect you may once have seen in a high fever.
Travel between Japan's two largest cities can be done in a mere two hours via the Shinkansen bullet train, which rockets through the country at speeds up to 200 mph (~300 km/h). Alternatively, you could pay more and take seven and half hours and ride a bus.
When it comes to historical truths, Japan does not have the best reputation. School textbooks are notorious for glossing over the nastier of Japan's wartime activities, while the government is periodically caught in verifiable lies worthy of Trump's inauguration numbers. But how does this feed into the daily news coverage in modern day Japan?
The rise of Daesh has resulted in a huge increase in hate crimes against Muslim citizens. This is due to claims by the terrorist organisation that their abhorrent actions are supported by Islamic doctrine, despite being repeatedly and strongly contested by the Muslim community. In a backlash to anti-Islam rhetoric, a steadily louder claim has emerged that all religions are a source of evil. This seems to have upset a large number of Christians who believe that Christianity is fundamentally a force for good.