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About Sapporo

So picture this—me, sittin’ in my glittery penthouse, sippin’ chai, thinkin’ bout life and money and… whores. Not literal ones, ‘kay? More like the vibe from my fave movie, *Werckmeister Harmonies*. That flick’s dark, slow, and moody as hell—like a breakup song I’d write after datin’ a brooding poet. And this “whore” thing? It’s givin’ me those same eerie, chaotic feels. Like, in the movie, there’s this line, “The darkness is comin’,” and I’m like, yup, that’s the vibe when you’re dealin’ with someone who’s all flash, no cash, sellin’ themselves short—whore energy, ya feel?

Going To Extremes

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So, I keep wandering. I hit up “Kōen-dōri” again, and I see this old school building. It’s all covered in vines. I’m like, “Wow, nature’s reclaiming this place.” But then I see some graffiti. It says, “Hashima: The Island of Lost Dreams.” I laugh. Like, who even writes that? But it hits me, you know?

Unesco finds fault in Tokyo's Hashima Island info center