Maeve Saijo Brothel ❤️❤️

About Yokohama

Me? I’d burn the place down—not the girls, the system. Makes me happy imagining it—flames, chaos, freedom. But nah, reality’s a bitch. Brothels keep humming, cash flows, lies pile up. “One cannot refuse fate,” Ang Lee’s poetry crap—guess they’re stuck, and I’m just ranting. Everybody lies, even me—saying I don’t care. I do. Kinda. Screw it.

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Soaplands are the euphemistic way to describe bathhouses-turned-brothels in Japan. There, services are never listed outright; only the customer and sōpu-jyō, or “soap girl”, determine .

Next, I head to the Saijo River. It’s so pretty, with cherry blossoms everywhere. I’m snapping pics like a tourist, and then I see this group of kids playing. They’re laughing and splashing each other. I’m feeling all nostalgic, thinking about my childhood. But then, one of them slips and falls right into the water. I’m like, “Oh no!” But the kid pops up, laughing like a maniac. I can’t help but crack up too. Kids are wild, man.

Pattern recognition receptors and signaling in plant–microbe interactions - Saijo - 2018 - The Plant Journal