<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189</id><updated>2012-02-07T01:20:30.210+09:00</updated><category term='M*ffy'/><category term='Tarako Kewpie'/><category term='Picture'/><category term='Sick'/><category term='Urban Legend'/><category term='Dark Tales of Japan'/><category term='I&apos;m Lovin&apos; It'/><category term='Places of Interest'/><category term='Music'/><category term='Black Magic'/><category term='Ritual'/><category term='Art'/><category term='game'/><category term='Movie#3'/><category term='Inexplicable#3'/><category term='Movie'/><category term='Words from Saya'/><category term='Movie#4'/><category term='Apparition #2'/><category term='Inexplicable'/><category term='People'/><category term='Flash'/><category term='Dangerous'/><category term='Dream'/><category term='Cryptic'/><category term='Folkelore'/><category term='Apparition'/><category term='My Master Series'/><category term='ABOUT THIS BLOG'/><category term='Monsters'/><category term='Modern Technology'/><category term='Inexplicable#2'/><category term='Curse'/><category term='Movie#2'/><title type='text'>SAYA IN UNDERWORLD</title><subtitle type='html'>Bizzare and dark tales from JAPAN.
Plus much more!</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>203</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-995970780474133789</id><published>2011-08-05T15:26:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2011-08-05T15:26:34.853+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dangerous'/><title type='text'>gyatei</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://gyatei.tumblr.com/"&gt;gyatei&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: black; color: white;"&gt;One of the bizarrest sites you are ever likely to come across.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: black; color: white;"&gt;It's filled with random strange pictures and gif animations, and however hard you try, you can&amp;nbsp;never reach to the bottom of the page!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: black; color: white;"&gt;Some&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;images might be&amp;nbsp;&lt;span style="background-color: black; color: red; font-size: large;"&gt;quite gruesome&lt;/span&gt; (like a picture of a bloody dead body), &lt;span style="background-color: black;"&gt;so&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt; &lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;please be careful watching it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: black; color: white;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: black; color: lime;"&gt;Message from me:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: black; color: lime;"&gt;Hi everyone!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: black; color: lime;"&gt;May&amp;nbsp;I say thank you again for all the kind support you have&amp;nbsp;given&amp;nbsp;to the earthquake victims in Japan!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: black; color: lime;"&gt;I hope you are all doing well! ;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: black; color: lime;"&gt;And I'm sorry if I can't answer all your comments.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: black; color: lime;"&gt;I also don't know when next I can update. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-995970780474133789?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/995970780474133789/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=995970780474133789&amp;isPopup=true' title='42 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/995970780474133789'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/995970780474133789'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2011/08/gyatei.html' title='gyatei'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>42</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-5768530961429343706</id><published>2011-03-16T09:13:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2011-03-16T09:13:54.859+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Words from Saya'/><title type='text'>Japan earthquake and tsunami: How to help</title><content type='html'>From the site: Japan was hit by one of the largest earthquakes ever recorded on March 11. The magnitude-9.0 quake spawned a deadly tsunami that slammed into the nation's east coast, leaving a huge swath of devastation in its wake. Thousands of people are dead and many more are still missing or injured.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Japan has often donated when other countries have experienced disasters, such as when Hurricane Katrina impacted the United States. Below are organizations that are working on relief and recovery in the region.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://news.yahoo.com/s/yblog_newsroom/20110311/wl_yblog_newsroom/japan-earthquake-and-tsunami-how-to-help"&gt;Japan earthquake and tsunami: How to help&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your donation could save many lives in Japan.&lt;br /&gt;Even if&amp;nbsp;each person&amp;nbsp;donated just a small amount money,&amp;nbsp;when put together it would accumulate into a&amp;nbsp;huge amount of money.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;So please, just one dollar, one pound (or whatever) is fine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;Help our people in Japan!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;THANK YOU FOR YOUR KINDNESS!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;MORE: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://mashable.com/2011/03/13/japan-earthquake-tsunami-help-donate/"&gt;Japan Earthquake &amp;amp; Tsunami: 7 Simple Ways to Help&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure there are places you can go&amp;nbsp;in your own country for donation! &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;Thousands of people here are waiting for your help.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-5768530961429343706?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/5768530961429343706/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=5768530961429343706&amp;isPopup=true' title='35 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/5768530961429343706'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/5768530961429343706'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2011/03/japan-earthquake-and-tsunami-how-to.html' title='Japan earthquake and tsunami: How to help'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>35</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-5347386764888431234</id><published>2011-03-12T16:26:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2011-03-12T16:26:27.590+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Words from Saya'/><title type='text'>Alive!</title><content type='html'>Helloooo Everyone!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is just to say that I'm alive and well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although I was in Tokyo at the time of the earthquake and because all the trains went dead it took me HOURS to get home. (When I finally arrived home it was past three&amp;nbsp;in the&amp;nbsp;morning)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No significant damamge at home, just a few things got broken and that was all.&lt;br /&gt;Thanks a lot for being worried about me and leaving me sweet messages! ;) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love, Saya&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-5347386764888431234?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/5347386764888431234/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=5347386764888431234&amp;isPopup=true' title='57 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/5347386764888431234'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/5347386764888431234'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2011/03/alive.html' title='Alive!'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>57</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-1697651477965127628</id><published>2010-12-22T16:44:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2010-12-22T16:44:20.437+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tarako Kewpie'/><title type='text'>Tarako Christmas</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Jk-J-3AhQ2o?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=ja_JP&amp;amp;color1=0x5d1719&amp;amp;color2=0xcd311b"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Jk-J-3AhQ2o?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=ja_JP&amp;amp;color1=0x5d1719&amp;amp;color2=0xcd311b" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;Merry Christmas everyone!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;I'm sorry for not having been able to reply to your comments. But I still appreciate them very much.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;And please note that sadly updating this blog is at the bottom of my priority list at the moment.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-1697651477965127628?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/1697651477965127628/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=1697651477965127628&amp;isPopup=true' title='28 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/1697651477965127628'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/1697651477965127628'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2010/12/tarako-christmas.html' title='Tarako Christmas'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>28</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-4331807876238941724</id><published>2010-12-14T20:57:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2010-12-14T20:57:12.648+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Flash'/><title type='text'>Goodbye with the Dolphin Dream</title><content type='html'>A weird Japanese flash.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GO TO: &lt;a href="http://www.geocities.co.jp/AnimeComic-Cell/9459/10.html"&gt;Goodbye with the Dolphin Dream&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(There will be some sound. So watch the volume.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The&amp;nbsp;girl says "&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;Please kill me first before going any further&lt;/span&gt;."&lt;br /&gt;Just keep clicking and see what happens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The title is apparently so called because you end up with a picture of &lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;a pool of blood in the shape of a dolphin&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;Nothing too graphic, so don't worry.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-4331807876238941724?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/4331807876238941724/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=4331807876238941724&amp;isPopup=true' title='26 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/4331807876238941724'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/4331807876238941724'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2010/12/goodbye-with-dolphin-dream.html' title='Goodbye with the Dolphin Dream'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>26</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-6894587978009038363</id><published>2010-12-12T20:27:00.006+09:00</published><updated>2010-12-12T20:34:13.925+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Movie#4'/><title type='text'>Reincarnation: Trailers</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="340" width="560"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/RsN64WKa9-g?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=ja_JP&amp;amp;color1=0x2b405b&amp;amp;color2=0x6b8ab6"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/RsN64WKa9-g?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=ja_JP&amp;amp;color1=0x2b405b&amp;amp;color2=0x6b8ab6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="340"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/7omZCbGilw0?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=ja_JP&amp;amp;color1=0x2b405b&amp;amp;color2=0x6b8ab6"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/7omZCbGilw0?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=ja_JP&amp;amp;color1=0x2b405b&amp;amp;color2=0x6b8ab6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;It was a good film. I enjoyed watching it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;Looks like you can watch the whole thing on youtube.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;Ah.. and guys, I don't have a lot of time to update :D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-6894587978009038363?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/6894587978009038363/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=6894587978009038363&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/6894587978009038363'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/6894587978009038363'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2010/12/reincarnation-trailers.html' title='Reincarnation: Trailers'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-2335822957044772587</id><published>2010-12-07T22:22:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2010-12-07T22:22:53.127+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cryptic'/><title type='text'>Recycled</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;Another cryptic story for you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Note: I'm not the authour of this story. I've translated it from original Japanese into English. Please do NOT copy and paste it somewhere else on the web without my permission.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;**************************************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was in a station, sitting on a bench and waiting for the train to come.&lt;br /&gt;Presently,&amp;nbsp;a&amp;nbsp;lady holding a&amp;nbsp;baby to her breast sat down next to me.&lt;br /&gt;Well I'm fond of children&amp;nbsp;and I couldn't help&amp;nbsp;but stare&amp;nbsp;at the sweet-looking baby.&lt;br /&gt;The&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;lady noticed this and she started&amp;nbsp;chatting to me in a friendly manner.&lt;br /&gt;'This isn't actually a baby, you know. It's a bag.' &lt;br /&gt;As she said so, she turned over the baby's clothes and showed me&amp;nbsp;a zipper on the belly.&lt;br /&gt;Now that she said it, I&amp;nbsp;noticed that the baby's eyes&amp;nbsp;appeared to be made of glass too.&lt;br /&gt;'Wow, it looks very realistic."'&lt;br /&gt;'Yes, I know. It takes a lot of work to make it. Time-consuming, too. But it doesn't bother me, because I love recycling things,' she replied with a smile. &lt;br /&gt;Just then the train pulled up. She&amp;nbsp;stood up and got on the train.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was going to&amp;nbsp;catch&amp;nbsp;the same train but I couldn't&amp;nbsp;bring&amp;nbsp;myself to move.&lt;br /&gt;So I sat there rigid and&amp;nbsp;stared after&amp;nbsp;the train&amp;nbsp;until it disappeared into the distance.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-2335822957044772587?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/2335822957044772587/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=2335822957044772587&amp;isPopup=true' title='26 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/2335822957044772587'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/2335822957044772587'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2010/12/recycled.html' title='Recycled'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>26</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-5782780907197167039</id><published>2010-12-04T11:30:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2010-12-04T11:30:04.902+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Inexplicable#3'/><title type='text'>Seven Steps</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;Note: I'm not the authour of this story. I've translated it from original Japanese into English. Please do NOT copy and paste it somewhere else on the web without my permission.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*********************************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I heard this from my friend at college.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a common story but there was an apartment&amp;nbsp;that had one room where no one stayed for very long.&lt;br /&gt;Everyone left within one week of renting it.&lt;br /&gt;The room was on the first floor in the corner of the building and you could reach it by climbing a flight of stairs with seven steps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The landlord felt uncomfortable about the whole affair&amp;nbsp;and it bothered him a lot, but one day&amp;nbsp;he got a tenant who&amp;nbsp;stayed well over a week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That made the landlord feel&amp;nbsp;happier&amp;nbsp;but&amp;nbsp;just&amp;nbsp;to&amp;nbsp;make sure everything was alright he went to the&amp;nbsp;room&amp;nbsp;to check on the tenant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But no one responded to the landlord's knockings.&lt;br /&gt;The landloard felt something was amiss and he&amp;nbsp;rang up the police. When&amp;nbsp;the police&amp;nbsp;arrived they broke into the room together. &lt;br /&gt;Inside, they found the tenant's dead body.&lt;br /&gt;The cause of the death was unclear and to find out what had happened the police then went around asking for information.&lt;br /&gt;They managed to talk to some of the previous tenants of the room but none of them was willing to talk about the room.&lt;br /&gt;However&amp;nbsp;in the end they managed to get one person talking. His story went like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every&amp;nbsp;night a child's voice&amp;nbsp;was&amp;nbsp;heard.&lt;br /&gt;On the first night after the tenant moved in,&amp;nbsp;the voice&amp;nbsp;said:&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;'Oooone step Iiii've cliiiimbed...'&lt;br /&gt;He wondered what it was but nothing else happened and so he just ignored it.&lt;br /&gt;But the next day he heard the same voice say: &lt;br /&gt;'Twooo steps Iiii've cliiiiimbed...'&lt;br /&gt;On the thrid day it said:&amp;nbsp;"Threee steps&amp;nbsp;Iiii've cliiiiiimbed..."&lt;br /&gt;And so it went on the same way,&amp;nbsp;on the fourth, the fifth and the sixth day. &lt;br /&gt;The voice was clearly getting closer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were only seven steps on the stairs.&lt;br /&gt;All previous tenants ran away fearing what&amp;nbsp;might&amp;nbsp;happen if it reached the seventh step.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And&amp;nbsp;it appears the only person who knows&amp;nbsp;the&amp;nbsp;answer to that&amp;nbsp;is the dead tenant.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-5782780907197167039?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/5782780907197167039/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=5782780907197167039&amp;isPopup=true' title='19 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/5782780907197167039'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/5782780907197167039'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2010/12/seven-steps.html' title='Seven Steps'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>19</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-3614836426331118178</id><published>2010-12-01T21:50:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2010-12-01T21:50:07.599+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Curse'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Movie#4'/><title type='text'>A Video of Uknown Origin (A Cursed Video?)</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/AgpGkH7UCoE?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=ja_JP&amp;amp;color1=0x3a3a3a&amp;amp;color2=0x999999"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/AgpGkH7UCoE?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=ja_JP&amp;amp;color1=0x3a3a3a&amp;amp;color2=0x999999" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;The description says: "Obtained in 2002. Details unknown."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-3614836426331118178?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/3614836426331118178/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=3614836426331118178&amp;isPopup=true' title='21 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/3614836426331118178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/3614836426331118178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2010/12/video-of-uknown-origin-cursed-video.html' title='A Video of Uknown Origin (A Cursed Video?)'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>21</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-5887014382926344394</id><published>2010-11-29T16:25:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2010-11-29T16:25:58.352+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cryptic'/><title type='text'>A Video about Suicide</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;A cryptic story.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*********************************&lt;br /&gt;One day my boyfriend emailed me a video.&lt;br /&gt;Wondering what it was I watched it. &lt;br /&gt;It turned out to be a video about him committing suicide.&lt;br /&gt;With&amp;nbsp;a rope around his neck he jumped;&amp;nbsp;and after&amp;nbsp;a painful&amp;nbsp;struggle&amp;nbsp;he&amp;nbsp;died.&lt;br /&gt;And&amp;nbsp;the&amp;nbsp;video ended there.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-5887014382926344394?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/5887014382926344394/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=5887014382926344394&amp;isPopup=true' title='33 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/5887014382926344394'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/5887014382926344394'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2010/11/video-about-suicide.html' title='A Video about Suicide'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>33</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-2735937563874103936</id><published>2010-11-23T19:47:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2010-11-23T19:47:00.179+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Movie#4'/><title type='text'>A Video with a Strange Woman</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;Strange images of a woman keep interrupting the video.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;I think I've seen this somewhere before??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/jd0iBVpVPzI?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=ja_JP&amp;amp;color1=0x2b405b&amp;amp;color2=0x6b8ab6"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/jd0iBVpVPzI?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=ja_JP&amp;amp;color1=0x2b405b&amp;amp;color2=0x6b8ab6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-2735937563874103936?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/2735937563874103936/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=2735937563874103936&amp;isPopup=true' title='18 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/2735937563874103936'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/2735937563874103936'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2010/11/video-with-strange-woman.html' title='A Video with a Strange Woman'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>18</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-6124888975610045789</id><published>2010-11-20T07:36:00.002+09:00</published><updated>2010-12-08T14:28:03.138+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Apparition #2'/><title type='text'>The Mother's Rage</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;Note: The author of this story is not me. I'm only translating it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;************************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This happened quite a long time ago, when I was about four. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was early in the morning. I say "morning" but it was still dark in&amp;nbsp;my room.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Suddenly I found myself standing on the bed, being told off severely by my mother.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;'Why did you do it?!'&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She&amp;nbsp;questioned me angrily, but I absolutely had no idea what I had done.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I would say that was a normal reaction from someone who had just woken up.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I wanted to ask her what I had done but she&amp;nbsp;was&amp;nbsp;so furious&amp;nbsp;that I&amp;nbsp;thought the question would only make her even&amp;nbsp;angrier. So I just kept apologizing to her without understanding the situation.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I said sorry to her again and again but she wasn't about to&amp;nbsp;let me off that easily.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They say when something unpleasant is happening the time tends to go by very slowly but even so as a child I felt that it was going on for far too long.&lt;br /&gt;For&amp;nbsp;more than an hour my mother kept&amp;nbsp;asking me like: &lt;br /&gt;'For&amp;nbsp;what reason&amp;nbsp;did you do it?' 'What was the reason?' 'What time do you think it is?' She went on and on in the same manner.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well my mother was the type who could go on forever once she started&amp;nbsp;telling&amp;nbsp;people&amp;nbsp;off&amp;nbsp;and I knew that apologizing to her was useless. If I didn't say sorry she would go on being angry and even if I did say sorry she would still be angry. So nothing I did or said&amp;nbsp;would make&amp;nbsp;much difference.&lt;/div&gt;That was what I thought. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then I thought to myself lightly:"Oh she's especially in a bad mood today," or "I must have done something really terrible."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But.&lt;br /&gt;As my head became clearer&amp;nbsp;I started noticing&amp;nbsp;a few&amp;nbsp;things; like although it was around four or five in the morning and my mother was shouting at the top of her voice,&amp;nbsp;the noise&amp;nbsp;hadn't&amp;nbsp;disturbed my father, who was sleeping right in the next room. Well, that was&amp;nbsp;perhaps OK&amp;nbsp;but it was&amp;nbsp;strange that my two-year old sister, who was sleeping on the&amp;nbsp;bottom of the&amp;nbsp;bunk bed below me hadn't even stirred.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My little sister should have woken up by then, especially because the shouting had got so loud to the point&amp;nbsp;where it was impossible for anyone to&amp;nbsp;ignore it and go on sleeping&lt;br /&gt;That was&amp;nbsp;the first thing that came into my head and then I began to notice other&amp;nbsp;odd things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To start with,&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I&amp;nbsp;heard&amp;nbsp;no sound.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was no sound of the clock ticking which&amp;nbsp;usually bothered&amp;nbsp;me and no sound of cars that could usually be heard outside around that time of the day. It was far too quiet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the&amp;nbsp;strangest of all was my mother's&amp;nbsp;unusual persistence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I apologized to her over and over but she still wouldn't forgive me.&lt;br /&gt;Normally she would have stopped telling me off by then. &lt;br /&gt;Yes, she&amp;nbsp;could be&amp;nbsp;persistent,&amp;nbsp;but not &lt;em&gt;that&lt;/em&gt; persistent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I then realized the&amp;nbsp;most frightening&amp;nbsp;thing of all.&lt;br /&gt;I had not yet seen my mother's face.&lt;br /&gt;To be more precise, I couldn't see her face because it was too dark. I was being told off in complete darkness.&lt;br /&gt;I just&amp;nbsp;assumed&amp;nbsp;she was my mother by&amp;nbsp;her voice and by the sense of her presence but I hadn't checked if&amp;nbsp;she really was my mother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Why did you do it?"&lt;br /&gt;"What time do you think it is?"&lt;br /&gt;"Are you really sorry about what you've done?"&lt;br /&gt;She kept&amp;nbsp;going on about the same things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Is she really my mother?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The moment I thought so:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A&amp;nbsp;hand flew to my face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Slap!!!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was hit hard across the cheek.&lt;br /&gt;But the hand felt unnatural.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It had&amp;nbsp;abnormally long nails.&lt;br /&gt;And it also felt very cold.&lt;br /&gt;She is &lt;em&gt;not&lt;/em&gt; my mother! I knew it this time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mother had fragile&amp;nbsp;nails which could be&amp;nbsp;easily broken and she hardly ever grew them long because of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Who is she?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As soon as the question came into my mind, the voice, which had been&amp;nbsp;high and hysteric before, suddenly became&amp;nbsp;lower and prolonged&amp;nbsp;like sound&amp;nbsp;on&amp;nbsp;an old cassette tape.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It had changed into a really deep voice and the things she said became gradually abnormal too:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Why did you kill?"&lt;br /&gt;"For what reason did you kill?"&lt;br /&gt;"Why did I die?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those were the words she spoke now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've got to run away!I thought, but I was standing on the&amp;nbsp;top&amp;nbsp;of the bunk bed.&lt;br /&gt;I could get down only by the ladder and the woman was standing&amp;nbsp;right&amp;nbsp;at the bottom&amp;nbsp;of the ladder; and she was still shouting angrily.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, she was actually &lt;em&gt;pleading&lt;/em&gt; now.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;And up until then I thought&amp;nbsp;my body&amp;nbsp;was&amp;nbsp;only tense&amp;nbsp;because of being nervous, but now I realised I was suffering from paralysis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Oh god, I can't move&lt;/em&gt;. The very moment I thought so, the woman, with a loud and clear voice, said:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Are you really sorry?'&lt;br /&gt;And&amp;nbsp;she&amp;nbsp;brought her face closer until it was just a few inches from mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her hair was wild, her skin pallid, and she had no&amp;nbsp;eyeballs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I lost consciousness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;....................&lt;br /&gt;Was it in the morning? Or in the afternoon?&lt;br /&gt;When I came around, I again found myself standing on&amp;nbsp;the bed, being told off by my mother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But this time&amp;nbsp;I could hear noises outside and moreover it was bright and sunny in the room.&lt;br /&gt;I could also see her face. There was no question that the&amp;nbsp;person who was&amp;nbsp;shouting at&amp;nbsp;me was my mother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Why did you do it?'&lt;br /&gt;'What were you doing?'&lt;br /&gt;'Where did you go?'&lt;br /&gt;She was asking me those questions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This time too I had no idea what I had done&amp;nbsp;so I asked her.&lt;br /&gt;- What have I done?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Were you&amp;nbsp;sleepwalking or what?'&lt;br /&gt;Then she&amp;nbsp;started telling&amp;nbsp;me what had happened.&lt;br /&gt;The night before, around two after midnight,&amp;nbsp;my parents were in the sitting room&amp;nbsp;when they saw me walk past&amp;nbsp;the room.&lt;br /&gt;They thought I was going to the bathroom but then heard me say, 'I'm going outside to play.' And then apparently I just disappeared through the front door.&lt;br /&gt;My action was totally unexpected and I was gone before they&amp;nbsp;had time to&amp;nbsp;stop me. They followed me and went outside, and tried to find me but couldn't.&lt;br /&gt;After a while they gave up searching and came home to call up the police, but when they checked the bedroom again somehow they found me on the bed, fast asleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They were going to wake me up and try to ask me&amp;nbsp;what had happened but no matter what they did I wouldn't wake up. They were also&amp;nbsp;exhausted after the night of searching&amp;nbsp;and before they knew they had fallen asleep themselves. They slept until they were woken up by my scream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I&amp;nbsp;said to&amp;nbsp;them in the end were: Yes,&amp;nbsp;I was sleepwalking. No,&amp;nbsp;I don't&amp;nbsp;remember what I did.&lt;br /&gt;I never told&amp;nbsp;a soul about my experience until now.&lt;br /&gt;Do you think this is something serious?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-6124888975610045789?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/6124888975610045789/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=6124888975610045789&amp;isPopup=true' title='24 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/6124888975610045789'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/6124888975610045789'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2010/11/mothers-rage.html' title='The Mother&apos;s Rage'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>24</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-3500932663903724432</id><published>2010-11-17T09:15:00.002+09:00</published><updated>2010-11-19T16:22:09.645+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Curse'/><title type='text'>The Cursed Video: The TV Snow</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;I watched this at night and it was creepy! Especially because there's no music!XD&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;You can see some shapes and images in the snow. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;WATCH IT AT YOUR OWN RISK.&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/oMwssBgPT_U?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=ja_JP&amp;amp;color1=0x3a3a3a&amp;amp;color2=0x999999"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/oMwssBgPT_U?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=ja_JP&amp;amp;color1=0x3a3a3a&amp;amp;color2=0x999999" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;Below is&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;the description which was posted together with the&amp;nbsp;video&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; (I have&amp;nbsp;&lt;strong&gt;NOT&lt;/strong&gt; translated it&lt;strong&gt;.&lt;/strong&gt; It&amp;nbsp;is&amp;nbsp;written in English.)&amp;nbsp;:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div id="eow-description"&gt;This is the actual footage of a famous ghost video. The story says, at the end of a Japanese movie videotape (I cannot recall the name of it, sorry; if someone knows, please say so), there are a few extra minutes of noise and TV static containing eerie, unexplainable images and sounds. The story also says people who have seen it have got cursed. Watch it at your own risk; I won't.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-3500932663903724432?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/3500932663903724432/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=3500932663903724432&amp;isPopup=true' title='31 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/3500932663903724432'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/3500932663903724432'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2010/11/cursed-video-tv-snow.html' title='The Cursed Video: The TV Snow'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>31</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-4693796127884928978</id><published>2010-11-15T14:47:00.003+09:00</published><updated>2010-11-15T15:53:42.251+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Movie#4'/><title type='text'>COOKING IDOL, "Noroi chan"</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;A cute Japanese doll shares with you her&amp;nbsp;special recipe!! ("Noroi" means curse.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;You will need some rice cakes, bacon, and above all, bright red tomatoes!!!! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/gn7SWpctUL4?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=ja_JP&amp;amp;color1=0x5d1719&amp;amp;color2=0xcd311b"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/gn7SWpctUL4?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=ja_JP&amp;amp;color1=0x5d1719&amp;amp;color2=0xcd311b" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;Yummyyyyy!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-4693796127884928978?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/4693796127884928978/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=4693796127884928978&amp;isPopup=true' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/4693796127884928978'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/4693796127884928978'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2010/11/cooking-idol.html' title='COOKING IDOL, &quot;Noroi chan&quot;'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-4950792563860306027</id><published>2010-11-14T11:48:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2010-11-14T11:48:18.806+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tarako Kewpie'/><title type='text'>Tarako Kewpie at Sea</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;Beware of tarako kewpies while swimming in the sea.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/P38zNehjO0s?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=ja_JP&amp;amp;color1=0xcc2550&amp;amp;color2=0xe87a9f"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/P38zNehjO0s?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=ja_JP&amp;amp;color1=0xcc2550&amp;amp;color2=0xe87a9f" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-4950792563860306027?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/4950792563860306027/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=4950792563860306027&amp;isPopup=true' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/4950792563860306027'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/4950792563860306027'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2010/11/tarako-kewpie-at-sea.html' title='Tarako Kewpie at Sea'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-4479497573993595529</id><published>2010-11-12T14:19:00.001+09:00</published><updated>2010-11-15T08:32:22.294+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Inexplicable#3'/><title type='text'>Gone Missing With The House</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;Note: I'm not the author of this story&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;********************************************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This happened when I was fifteen.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;One day I came home from school to find the place where my house should have been had become an empty lot. &lt;br /&gt;Of course I could not have taken a wrong path since I&amp;nbsp;used&amp;nbsp;the same&amp;nbsp;route to go&amp;nbsp;back and forth from home to&amp;nbsp;school everyday.&lt;br /&gt;And&amp;nbsp;also it&amp;nbsp;was impossible to&amp;nbsp;be mistaken about the location since the scenery around it was familiar. &lt;br /&gt;But&amp;nbsp;strangely the place&amp;nbsp;had a&amp;nbsp;run-down appearance&amp;nbsp;with&amp;nbsp;weeds growing everywhere&amp;nbsp;showing it had not become empty suddenly but&amp;nbsp;it had been like that for at least a few years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the end all my family went missing and I was taken into my grandmother's care.&lt;br /&gt;I am posting this from my grandmother's house right now.&lt;br /&gt;Have&amp;nbsp;you&amp;nbsp;heard of any similar&amp;nbsp;things&amp;nbsp;happening before?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm working now and am still trying to find my family in my spare time; but I'm losing all my hopes. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-4479497573993595529?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/4479497573993595529/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=4479497573993595529&amp;isPopup=true' title='21 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/4479497573993595529'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/4479497573993595529'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2010/11/gone-missig-with-house.html' title='Gone Missing With The House'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>21</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-5758097623556421302</id><published>2010-11-11T19:57:00.001+09:00</published><updated>2010-11-11T20:05:18.947+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Curse'/><title type='text'>Scary Cursed Movie</title><content type='html'>The Warning at the beginning says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;"The movie you are about to see may cause you serious spiritual damage.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;If you are prone to spiritual damage or you&amp;nbsp;feel reluctant to watch it, please stop the movie immediately.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;I will not be responsible for anything that may happen as a result of watching it."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/tMdQ-fqM8c0?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=ja_JP&amp;amp;color1=0x234900&amp;amp;color2=0x4e9e00"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/tMdQ-fqM8c0?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=ja_JP&amp;amp;color1=0x234900&amp;amp;color2=0x4e9e00" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-5758097623556421302?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/5758097623556421302/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=5758097623556421302&amp;isPopup=true' title='20 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/5758097623556421302'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/5758097623556421302'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2010/11/scary-cursed-movie.html' title='Scary Cursed Movie'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>20</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-5794658999991528297</id><published>2010-11-10T11:10:00.001+09:00</published><updated>2010-11-10T11:13:34.361+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tarako Kewpie'/><title type='text'>The Tarako Kewpie Band</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;Time to Chill Out with Tarako Kewpies!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/az8hkaqwyac?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=ja_JP&amp;amp;color1=0xe1600f&amp;amp;color2=0xfebd01"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/az8hkaqwyac?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=ja_JP&amp;amp;color1=0xe1600f&amp;amp;color2=0xfebd01" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;This is your reaction below:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/vxdNkY19QDg?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=ja_JP&amp;amp;color1=0x5d1719&amp;amp;color2=0xcd311b"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/vxdNkY19QDg?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=ja_JP&amp;amp;color1=0x5d1719&amp;amp;color2=0xcd311b" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-5794658999991528297?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/5794658999991528297/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=5794658999991528297&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/5794658999991528297'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/5794658999991528297'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2010/11/tarako-kewpie-band.html' title='The Tarako Kewpie Band'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-7658220165970735903</id><published>2010-11-09T08:18:00.002+09:00</published><updated>2010-11-09T08:19:46.380+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cryptic'/><title type='text'>Alone in the House</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;Another cryptic story.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**************************************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was scared after reading the cursed story and&amp;nbsp;because I was alone in the house&amp;nbsp;I switched on all the lights&amp;nbsp;in my room&amp;nbsp;and the hall leading to&amp;nbsp;the bathroom.&amp;nbsp;:D &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it was all fine in the end.&lt;br /&gt;The&amp;nbsp;only scary thing that happened was&amp;nbsp;when&amp;nbsp;after the bath I went back to my room and switched on the light the bag&amp;nbsp;which had been on the hook&amp;nbsp;fell by itself. &lt;em&gt;That&lt;/em&gt; made me jump!&amp;nbsp;lol　&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-7658220165970735903?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/7658220165970735903/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=7658220165970735903&amp;isPopup=true' title='23 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/7658220165970735903'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/7658220165970735903'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2010/11/alone-in-house.html' title='Alone in the House'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>23</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-4259415807642695162</id><published>2010-11-07T13:04:00.001+09:00</published><updated>2010-11-07T13:29:20.632+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='I&apos;m Lovin&apos; It'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Movie#4'/><title type='text'>The Ronald Invasion</title><content type='html'>The moral of this video: &lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;NEVER WASTE YOUR BURGERS!! Treat them with respect!!&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp;(and never underestimate Ronald's power too.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/hoIrB3k_teE?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=ja_JP&amp;amp;color1=0x5d1719&amp;amp;color2=0xcd311b"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/hoIrB3k_teE?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=ja_JP&amp;amp;color1=0x5d1719&amp;amp;color2=0xcd311b" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm actually lovin'It. LOL&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-4259415807642695162?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/4259415807642695162/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=4259415807642695162&amp;isPopup=true' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/4259415807642695162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/4259415807642695162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2010/11/ronald-invasion.html' title='The Ronald Invasion'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-7222326298222375541</id><published>2010-11-04T11:14:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2010-11-04T11:14:27.955+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cryptic'/><title type='text'>The Wish</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;Note: This story is under the "Cryptic" category, meaning you have to think a little to understand it.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I'll give you one explanation for it later in the comments below.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;****************************************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A star&amp;nbsp;descended to&amp;nbsp;a little girl.&lt;br /&gt;'Anything you wish I will grant it to you, but only for once,' said the star.&lt;br /&gt;The girl&amp;nbsp;had been&amp;nbsp;crying.&lt;br /&gt;'Please make&amp;nbsp;everyone in&amp;nbsp;my family disappear! I really hate them!'&lt;br /&gt;The&amp;nbsp;next morning&amp;nbsp;when she woke up&amp;nbsp;she&amp;nbsp;went downstairs to the dining room but&amp;nbsp;her mother, her father and her big brother were all there as usual.&lt;br /&gt;The girl was sorry that she made such a wish.&lt;br /&gt;That&amp;nbsp;evening the star appeared to her again.&lt;br /&gt;'Are you happy now?' asked the star.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;The girl said, 'please, can&amp;nbsp;I take back&amp;nbsp;the wish I made yesterday?'&lt;br /&gt;The star said, 'once&amp;nbsp;a&amp;nbsp;wish has been&amp;nbsp;fulfilled&amp;nbsp;you can not&amp;nbsp;take&amp;nbsp;it back.'&lt;br /&gt;The girl cried.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-7222326298222375541?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/7222326298222375541/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=7222326298222375541&amp;isPopup=true' title='28 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/7222326298222375541'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/7222326298222375541'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2010/11/wish.html' title='The Wish'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>28</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-2658085107335185824</id><published>2010-11-01T10:55:00.001+09:00</published><updated>2010-11-01T11:23:39.455+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Inexplicable#3'/><title type='text'>The Headphone</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;As usual, I am not the author of the story. I'm only translating it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;********************************************************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was my habit to go to sleep with music playing.&lt;br /&gt;I would often wake up in the morning with headphone&amp;nbsp;still on my ears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't remember about it very&amp;nbsp;clearly but&amp;nbsp;the other&amp;nbsp;night&amp;nbsp;I was finding it hard to fall asleep.&lt;br /&gt;Usually after my head hit the pillow I needed only ten minutes before my consciousness was gone.&lt;br /&gt;And you know how your heart sometimes starts beating fast when you can't sleep? &lt;br /&gt;I didn't know why but I could feel my heart beating&amp;nbsp;wildly inside me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Alright,&amp;nbsp;let's listen to some music!&lt;/em&gt; I thought. Tonight I could listen to some rock music for a change&lt;em&gt;.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Probably I would just end up being more awake, but never mind! I could stay awake until the morning. No problem.&lt;br /&gt;I used the shuffle option on my hi-fi and enjoyed listening to my favourite band.&lt;br /&gt;But when the&amp;nbsp;songs&amp;nbsp;I didn't like came up I fast forwarded them all.&lt;br /&gt;So there was no point in using the shuffle option after all...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a while I began nodding off.&lt;br /&gt;A few&amp;nbsp;songs went by without me knowing it. Oh well I'm just going to sleep like this. I'm too lazy to move.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes when I slept with music on, I dreamed of the singers who sang the songs I was listening to.&lt;br /&gt;I wish&amp;nbsp;they weren't dreams....&lt;br /&gt;The music kept on playing........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A long pause. The end?&lt;br /&gt;I checked the display. The time showed 1 minute 55 seconds, which then changed to 56 seconds; the music was still going on.&lt;br /&gt;Did it have such a&amp;nbsp;song ? I didn't remember.&lt;br /&gt;Soon&amp;nbsp;my ears caught a faint sound.&lt;br /&gt;It was a pleasant sound of wind that made you imagine of a&amp;nbsp;large open meadow.&lt;br /&gt;Someone was walking towards me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Hello.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a girl's voice.&lt;br /&gt;What a pretty girl.&lt;br /&gt;I&amp;nbsp;could imagine her looks&amp;nbsp;just&amp;nbsp;by listening to her voice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Hello. Oneh-san (big sister)?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The voice was talking to me?&lt;br /&gt;I replied to her in my mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Hello. How old are you?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girl asnwered:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'I'm seventeen. I'm glad I have a friend now.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Oh then I'm five years older than you! Tell me your name! I'm Kumiko, by the way. Nice to meet you.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I&amp;nbsp;experienced a warm feeling when I heard from her the word "friend."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'I'm Atsumi. You write "warm sea" in Chinese characters and read it "Atsumi." Can I call you Kumiko Oneh-chan?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'OK! Then I'll call you Ah-chan.'&lt;br /&gt;We talked about many things.&lt;br /&gt;About myself, and about Ah-chan....&lt;br /&gt;Ah-chan told me about&amp;nbsp;her problems too.&lt;br /&gt;It sounded like she was not getting on well with her father.&lt;br /&gt;I then asked her out of the blue:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Ah-chan, what are you doing here?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'AAAAAAAHHHHHaahhhhhhAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The scream rang in my ears. No, no, no!&lt;br /&gt;It was like a scream of someone in&amp;nbsp;her death throes. The terror of it drew me back to the reality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must take off the headphone........&lt;em&gt; but, I can't???&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The scream is breaking me down.......AAHH I love headphones AAhhhh I always have headphone on my ears AAHH I don't know what's so funny but I can't&amp;nbsp;stop smiling. People around me are saying I've gone mad. They say I've always been a bit odd and now finally I've gone all mental AAAAAHHH I don't care what they say. Because&amp;nbsp;Ah-chan is with me AAAAAAHHHHH&amp;nbsp;It feels so good in hereAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-2658085107335185824?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/2658085107335185824/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=2658085107335185824&amp;isPopup=true' title='21 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/2658085107335185824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/2658085107335185824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2010/11/headphone.html' title='The Headphone'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>21</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-4403923149778258761</id><published>2010-10-29T19:42:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2010-10-29T19:42:31.800+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Picture'/><title type='text'>Weird Pictures</title><content type='html'>Go To &lt;a href="http://blog.goo.ne.jp/1_1_1_1_1_1_1_1_1_1/"&gt;The Weird Japanese Blog&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A Japanese blog&amp;nbsp;full of bizarre and disturbing pictures. &lt;br /&gt;Each picture is accompanied by indecipherable Japanese words. &lt;br /&gt;I can't even read the blog title (hence just "the&amp;nbsp;Weird Japanese Blog").&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you are there click the link at the bottom left of the page to&amp;nbsp;see the older posts.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-4403923149778258761?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/4403923149778258761/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=4403923149778258761&amp;isPopup=true' title='27 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/4403923149778258761'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/4403923149778258761'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2010/10/weird-pictures.html' title='Weird Pictures'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>27</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-4558223394941030057</id><published>2010-10-24T11:04:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2010-10-24T11:04:40.456+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dream'/><title type='text'>The Things That A Ghost Told Me</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;Note: I am not the author of this story.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I dreamed about a child ghost!&lt;br /&gt;According to the ghost, "the ghost you see in the dream is often a real ghost."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And he also said: &lt;br /&gt;Ghosts love quiet places and so they often appear in houses with only one person living in it.&lt;br /&gt;So what would they then do? &lt;br /&gt;They have no intention of scaring the inhabitant, apparently, but only want to do things like watch TV together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it seems like ghosts sometimes unintentionally&amp;nbsp;let themselves be seen&amp;nbsp;at the moment of appearing&amp;nbsp;and disappearing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Therefore,&amp;nbsp;for example, at the moment when&amp;nbsp;the human&amp;nbsp;switches off the TV to get ready for bed the ghost may&amp;nbsp;also tries to disappear, and in the process of doing so its image sometimes inadvertently gets refleted on the TV screen.&amp;nbsp;If the human happens to be looking towards its direction, then the&amp;nbsp;ghost tries its best not to betray its presence - said the ghost.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But if&amp;nbsp;the human&amp;nbsp;persisted in looking suspiciously&amp;nbsp;in its direction the ghost would&amp;nbsp;be dismayed and think that it had been&amp;nbsp;spotted, and it would stay&amp;nbsp;hovering around the human until he or she falls asleep.&lt;br /&gt;　&lt;br /&gt;What should we do...?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I personally think that the thing about "the ghost in the dream being a real ghost" might be true, because they say you never dream things that you haven't experienced in real life. Although you can dream&amp;nbsp;things you have seen in horror movies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the child ghost also said:&lt;br /&gt;When you wake up halfway through dreaming&amp;nbsp;about an encounter with a ghost, that ghost too&amp;nbsp;comes to the real world and then you&amp;nbsp;will be able&amp;nbsp;to&amp;nbsp;catch a glimpse of&amp;nbsp;it for a brief second. &lt;br /&gt;And if that happens in the middle of the night no harm will be done to you; but if it happens when the sun is already up, the ghost (for a reason I don't know) will turn demonic and before long you will be cursed to death or something terrible will happen to you.&amp;nbsp; 　&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-4558223394941030057?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/4558223394941030057/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=4558223394941030057&amp;isPopup=true' title='41 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/4558223394941030057'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/4558223394941030057'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2010/10/things-that-ghost-told-me.html' title='The Things That A Ghost Told Me'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>41</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-5441399117398537164</id><published>2010-10-20T21:36:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2010-10-20T21:36:59.927+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Curse'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Movie#4'/><title type='text'>Cursed? A Strange Creepy Video</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/G907i0SHdho?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=ja_JP&amp;amp;color1=0x234900&amp;amp;color2=0x4e9e00"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/G907i0SHdho?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=ja_JP&amp;amp;color1=0x234900&amp;amp;color2=0x4e9e00" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what it is, but it looks very creepy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-5441399117398537164?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/5441399117398537164/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=5441399117398537164&amp;isPopup=true' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/5441399117398537164'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/5441399117398537164'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2010/10/cursed-strange-creepy-video.html' title='Cursed? A Strange Creepy Video'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-6893989116348988403</id><published>2010-10-16T16:01:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2010-10-16T16:01:13.365+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Inexplicable#2'/><title type='text'>The Nightmare In The Hospital</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;Saya's comment: Hail to thee, my blog readers! Here's a long waited-for new story! For those of you who have&amp;nbsp;kindly written me emails I thank you wholeheartedly and I also apologize for not having been able to reply.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;As always this story is not about myself. I'm only translating a story&amp;nbsp;which was&amp;nbsp;originally written in Japanese.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;Please excuse my&amp;nbsp;lousy English. As you know English is my second language, I'm not a professional writer, I don't have much time, and the original text itself is not well-written (which doesn't help). So if you have any complaints regarding my language skill I suggest you keep it to yourself , to the grave. Haha.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;Well, anyway I hope you still enjoy reading it!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*********************************&lt;br /&gt;Not sure if this is going to be scary.&lt;br /&gt;About two years ago, along with three friends (A, B and C. All girls) I went to a ruined hospital famous for hauntings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was clear from the moment we stepped in the building that there was something very wrong with the place, since the cold air permeated inside despite it being&amp;nbsp;a hot summer day. I felt goosebumps&amp;nbsp;prickle my skin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For a&amp;nbsp;while&amp;nbsp;we&amp;nbsp;kept walking around,&amp;nbsp;going up from floor to floor, until we reached the in-patient ward.&lt;br /&gt;There was&amp;nbsp;a nursing station on the same floor and as soon as my friend A saw it she remarked, "I just saw someone there."&lt;br /&gt;That was the beginning of it all.&lt;br /&gt;We began to feel scared but we had come to test our courage and none of us felt like turning back to go home yet. We decided to divide up in twos and continued with the exploration.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I paired up with A and we&amp;nbsp;chose to explore around the nursing station.&lt;br /&gt;And we were just messing around with the stuff there when A, looking&amp;nbsp;pale and shaking, tapped me on the shoulder and said, "I&amp;nbsp;saw a shadow following B just as she went in one of the rooms&amp;nbsp;at the end&amp;nbsp;of the corridor." And&amp;nbsp;immediately after&amp;nbsp;that she asked me, "did&amp;nbsp;you hurt your&amp;nbsp;shoulder?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Puzzled, I looked at my right shoulder and some&amp;nbsp;muddy water was smeared all over my white T-shirt. &lt;br /&gt;Because it was one of my favourite T-shirts I got annoyed&amp;nbsp;and&amp;nbsp;answered A in a sharp tone:&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;"Hey, you did this when you tapped me on the shoulder just now!"&lt;br /&gt;A looked&amp;nbsp;surprised and said, "what? I never tapped you&amp;nbsp;on your shoulder!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got scared and shouted angrily at A saying, "stop pulling my leg at&amp;nbsp;a time like this!"&lt;br /&gt;But A answered straight-faced, "when are you talking about? I swear I&amp;nbsp;never touched you."&lt;br /&gt;Beginning to feel scared for real, I suggested that we call B and C, quit the game and go home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A&amp;nbsp;too seemed scared and said even going anywhere near the room into which B and C had disappeared was out of question; and so&amp;nbsp;we figured we could just&amp;nbsp;call out their names from where we stood.&lt;br /&gt;But no matter how many times we&amp;nbsp;called we didn't&amp;nbsp;get their answers back.&lt;br /&gt;I was also reluctant to go near the place after what I heard from A about&amp;nbsp;"the shadow" following after B. Also my right shoulder felt strangely heavy and painful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then A asked me, "shall&amp;nbsp;we try her mobile?" And she tried calling B.&amp;nbsp;A moment later we heard a ringing tone coming not from the&amp;nbsp;corridor where B was supposed&amp;nbsp;to be, but from the corridor opposite of it.&lt;br /&gt;It caught&amp;nbsp;us totally off guard&amp;nbsp;and that alone was bizarre enough but to&amp;nbsp;our horror the person who answered the call was&amp;nbsp;a stranger, and unmistakably a man. I heard A&amp;nbsp;start pleading into the phone, asking&amp;nbsp;again and again to let her talk&amp;nbsp;to B.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the end A gave up with pleading and hung up. She said to me, "may be we should just go&amp;nbsp;home by ourselves..."&amp;nbsp;It was then that A told me about the strange man who just answered her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were almost out of our wits as we rushed down the stairs at full speed.&lt;br /&gt;Once we were safely out of the hospital and back inside the car again, we began to feel more relaxed, and I said&amp;nbsp;to A "do you think we should call C?" And this time I tried C's mobile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Immediately I heard C's voice at the other end of the line: &lt;br /&gt;"Hey where's B? She just disappeared. Are you two together? Don't tell me I'm the only one left behind! No way!"&lt;br /&gt;She sounded unexpectedly cheerful and we breathed a sigh of relief. We told her to get out of the building and come over to us as soon as she could, and then we tried calling B again but there was still no answer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We pulled our car up in front of the hospital gate and waited for C. &lt;br /&gt;Sometime later C appeared, walking unsteadily&amp;nbsp;on&amp;nbsp;her&amp;nbsp;feet.&lt;br /&gt;"I looked everywhere but there's no sign of B!&amp;nbsp;I tried&amp;nbsp;her mobile but she wouldn't pick up. I think something is&amp;nbsp;up. What shall we do?" C&amp;nbsp;spoke&amp;nbsp;excitedly as&amp;nbsp;she came closer to the&amp;nbsp;car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got her into the car and she told us&amp;nbsp;what had happened to them in the hospital.&amp;nbsp;According to C,&amp;nbsp;just as the pair&amp;nbsp;entered one of the rooms at the end of the corridor, B&amp;nbsp;somehow started poking at C's back repeatedly, forcing&amp;nbsp;her to look back over her shoulder. But when C turned around B&amp;nbsp;had already disappeared. C guessed that B&amp;nbsp;had lost her nerve&amp;nbsp;and&amp;nbsp;gone&amp;nbsp;back&amp;nbsp;to where A and I were.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And after receiving our call, C started looking for B on her own. She then heard a man's&amp;nbsp;voice&amp;nbsp;from the&amp;nbsp;lavatory and being&amp;nbsp;a brave girl she&amp;nbsp;opened and checked every cubicle in there but could find no one.&lt;br /&gt;She kept yelling&amp;nbsp;B's name but&amp;nbsp;got no answer and so she&amp;nbsp;decided to come out, not knowing what else to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were discussing about what steps we might take next, when we saw B come dashing towards&amp;nbsp;the car, wailing.&lt;br /&gt;It was such a relief&amp;nbsp;and we opened the door to let her in but&amp;nbsp;she wouldn't get in and&amp;nbsp;only stood there, crying and raving.&lt;br /&gt;"Just what were you thinking? All of you, ignoring me like that! Do you know how many times I called you? And you were&amp;nbsp;planning to go home without me!" Having shouted thus&amp;nbsp;she suddenly fell down on the spot.&lt;br /&gt;We were in a total panic as we called the ambulance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;B was carried to the hospital where she died of a stroke. They said it was too late, but that seemed strange considering that she was only 26 and that she was treated&amp;nbsp;immediately after&amp;nbsp;she fell.&lt;br /&gt;The paramedics also asked me "what happened to your shoulder?" That made me&amp;nbsp;examine my right shoulder again. Then I realized that what I thought was dirty water was actually some sort of darkened blood.&lt;br /&gt;And I also noticed that C' back was covered with numerous similarly bloody hand prints.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About a year after the incident C died of leukaemia, and still a half year passed before A too died&amp;nbsp;in a car accident; and now I am the only one who is still alive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just had a stroke this May which had left me paralyzed on my right side, and I am still in the hospital for rehabilitation.&lt;br /&gt;But my mind is at rest. Before I was admitted into the hospital I was nearly driven mad with fear but I feel strangely at&amp;nbsp;ease now that I am actually inside the hospital.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder if hospitals are protected by some unseen force. It's very strange.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I no longer have to be plagued by those nightmares I used to have when I was at home. &lt;br /&gt;I am no longer tormented by the shadow I used to see when&amp;nbsp;I looked in the mirror.&lt;br /&gt;Now&amp;nbsp;even the idea of staying&amp;nbsp;in the hospital forever seems&amp;nbsp;like an appealing one to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel sorry for the other three, but I think I will survive.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-6893989116348988403?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/6893989116348988403/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=6893989116348988403&amp;isPopup=true' title='44 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/6893989116348988403'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/6893989116348988403'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2010/10/nightmare-in-hospital.html' title='The Nightmare In The Hospital'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>44</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-7799454752372807015</id><published>2010-05-11T16:44:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2010-05-11T16:56:50.543+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Urban Legend'/><title type='text'>Sadako's Phone Number</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: red; font-size: large;"&gt;090-4444-4444&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: yellow;"&gt;The story goes:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: yellow;"&gt;This number is known as "Sadako's Number" and when you dial it you&amp;nbsp;are supposed to be able to&amp;nbsp;hear&amp;nbsp;some strange, creepy noise, like "bwooo."&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: yellow;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: yellow;"&gt;They say that the person who calls this number will meet some kind of accident within a week.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The number will probably only work in Japan, but you can try calling it by using Japanese country code +81. &lt;br /&gt;:D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-7799454752372807015?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/7799454752372807015/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=7799454752372807015&amp;isPopup=true' title='80 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/7799454752372807015'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/7799454752372807015'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2010/05/sadakos-phone-number.html' title='Sadako&apos;s Phone Number'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>80</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-1735926445266193978</id><published>2010-05-08T10:29:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2010-05-08T10:29:38.428+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Music'/><title type='text'>Music to drive you crazy: Aquusmonium</title><content type='html'>Honestly, I couldn't listen to this till the end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="385" width="480"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/WsidrF0pHoU&amp;hl=ja_JP&amp;fs=1&amp;color1=0x5d1719&amp;color2=0xcd311b"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/WsidrF0pHoU&amp;hl=ja_JP&amp;fs=1&amp;color1=0x5d1719&amp;color2=0xcd311b" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-1735926445266193978?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/1735926445266193978/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=1735926445266193978&amp;isPopup=true' title='25 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/1735926445266193978'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/1735926445266193978'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2010/05/music-to-drive-you-crazy-aquusmonium.html' title='Music to drive you crazy: Aquusmonium'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>25</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-7056160675594969717</id><published>2010-05-05T13:57:00.002+09:00</published><updated>2010-05-05T14:01:25.807+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Inexplicable#2'/><title type='text'>Are You My Mother?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;'Are you my mother?'&lt;br /&gt;I was waiting at the pedestrian crossing when a man next to me suddenly spoke to me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was only a twenty-year-old college student at the time and I'd had no memory of ever having a child in my life. Moreover the man looked well over thirty. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Taken aback, I replied, 'No. I.....I'm not someone&amp;nbsp;you are looking for.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;He looked really surprised when I said it. It was as if he didn't understand why I would tell him such an obvious lie. His reaction surprised &lt;em&gt;me&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As soon as the traffic light turned green I quickly walked away.&lt;br /&gt;I might sound rude but he looked like&amp;nbsp;someone mentally disabled, with his large&amp;nbsp;staring eyes and creased shirt, and a small yellow&amp;nbsp;bag that&amp;nbsp;slung&amp;nbsp;across his chest.&lt;br /&gt;That was my first encounter with him, and&amp;nbsp;I would see&amp;nbsp;him many more times over the next few years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From then on the man&amp;nbsp;would always be waiting for me at the same place we first met and he would always ask me the same "are you my mother?" question. It was&amp;nbsp;uncomfortable but he would go away&amp;nbsp;as soon as I replied&amp;nbsp;"no." He seemed harmless enough and I&amp;nbsp;didn't feel the need to go and report to the police or do anything like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However&amp;nbsp;when later on he&amp;nbsp;started hanging&amp;nbsp;around my college I&amp;nbsp;had to make things clear to him. I remember telling him severely&amp;nbsp;that I&amp;nbsp;never wanted to see him again, and that&amp;nbsp;I found him disgusting.&lt;br /&gt;That seemed to have put him off&amp;nbsp;and&amp;nbsp;after that he didn't appear to me for a long time. Soon I graduated from the college in Tokyo and&amp;nbsp;moved back to my hometown.&lt;br /&gt;About a year later I&amp;nbsp;got a call from&amp;nbsp;a friend in Tokyo.&lt;br /&gt;'Guess what happened! I saw&amp;nbsp;that stalker of yours&amp;nbsp;near the college and he asked me "where is my mother?" I got freaked out and&amp;nbsp;just ran away.'&lt;br /&gt;Hearing that only made me think, "oh yeah, I remember that weird guy!" I thought it was&amp;nbsp;all in the past and&amp;nbsp;it had&amp;nbsp;nothing to do with me anymore.&lt;br /&gt;But on the Mother's Day in the following year I found&amp;nbsp;one withered carnation lying at the front door of my house. Immediately I thought "it's him!"and got really scared. I told my dad about it and we&amp;nbsp;decided to go to the police together. But of course the police&amp;nbsp;wouldn't take us seriously. After all nothing harmful had been done.&amp;nbsp;However I felt very uneasy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then another few months had passed and one night it was snowing heavily. I was walking&amp;nbsp;along a road when&amp;nbsp;a car slipped and I got caught up in a pile-up.&lt;br /&gt;I got knocked out of consciousness for a&amp;nbsp;moment and the next&amp;nbsp;thing I&amp;nbsp;knew I was sandwiched between a car and a fallen tree. I couldn't move at all and my whole body hurt,&amp;nbsp;but&amp;nbsp;in the confusion that followed no one was able to hear my&amp;nbsp;cries for help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;fire started&amp;nbsp;close by and&amp;nbsp;I thought this was&amp;nbsp;the end of me when&amp;nbsp;I heard the familiar voice calling: 'Mother! Motherrrrrr!' It was that guy!&lt;br /&gt;Before I knew I&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;was&amp;nbsp;crying out&amp;nbsp;'I'm here!Help!I'm right here!!'&lt;br /&gt;He seemed to have been involved in the accident too, since he was bloody all over. Plowing his way through the thick snow, he came over and pulled me out. Now I saw him properly for the first time I noticed his injuries&amp;nbsp;looked worse and more painful than mine. But in spite of all this he only looked at me and smiled.&lt;br /&gt;'Are you my mother?' He asked me again.&lt;br /&gt;An unnameable emotion welled up inside me and I&amp;nbsp;only managed to utter,'.....Yes....Yes.' I started crying my eyes out.&lt;br /&gt;But&amp;nbsp;when I wiped my tears and looked up again he was not there anymore. In just a brief moment&amp;nbsp;he had disappeared.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was the last I saw of him. I haven't laid my eyes on him for years now. I&amp;nbsp;still don't know&amp;nbsp;what he really was but I don't&amp;nbsp;think he was a ghost or that&amp;nbsp;tyep of thing...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whenever it snows I&amp;nbsp;find myself thinking about him - my son, whose name I will never know.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-7056160675594969717?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/7056160675594969717/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=7056160675594969717&amp;isPopup=true' title='18 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/7056160675594969717'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/7056160675594969717'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2010/05/are-you-my-mother.html' title='Are You My Mother?'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>18</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-4818713923917926964</id><published>2010-05-03T15:12:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2010-05-03T15:12:58.670+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Music'/><title type='text'>Strange Creepy Music</title><content type='html'>Just a little creepy music.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not a screamer so don't worry!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="385" width="480"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/WcMwC7jIRpU&amp;hl=ja_JP&amp;fs=1&amp;color1=0x3a3a3a&amp;color2=0x999999"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/WcMwC7jIRpU&amp;hl=ja_JP&amp;fs=1&amp;color1=0x3a3a3a&amp;color2=0x999999" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-4818713923917926964?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/4818713923917926964/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=4818713923917926964&amp;isPopup=true' title='19 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/4818713923917926964'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/4818713923917926964'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2010/05/strange-creepy-music.html' title='Strange Creepy Music'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>19</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-1624046519358493999</id><published>2010-05-02T13:29:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2010-05-02T13:29:49.498+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Music'/><title type='text'>Music entitled "Grey," left by a friend who commited suicide</title><content type='html'>The Description says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Warning - View&amp;nbsp;At Your Own Risk.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;If you feel something unusual during the viewing please&amp;nbsp;shut the movie off immediately&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;A friend of mine committed suicide last year and&amp;nbsp; this music was included in a CD which was&amp;nbsp;found enclosed inside an envelope together with his will.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;It was his last wish that&amp;nbsp;his music be open to public viewing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;But his song is incoherent, and the voice&amp;nbsp;doesn't sound&amp;nbsp;like&amp;nbsp;a voice of someone&amp;nbsp;alive&amp;nbsp;and the&amp;nbsp;music itself is very eerie.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;After&amp;nbsp;listening to it I suffered from a terrible headache.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="385" width="480"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/j0RTmIDNFgI&amp;hl=ja_JP&amp;fs=1&amp;color1=0x3a3a3a&amp;color2=0x999999"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/j0RTmIDNFgI&amp;hl=ja_JP&amp;fs=1&amp;color1=0x3a3a3a&amp;color2=0x999999" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-1624046519358493999?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/1624046519358493999/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=1624046519358493999&amp;isPopup=true' title='60 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/1624046519358493999'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/1624046519358493999'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2010/05/music-entitled-grey-left-by-friend-who.html' title='Music entitled &quot;Grey,&quot; left by a friend who commited suicide'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>60</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-2664966637444119377</id><published>2010-04-30T09:48:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2010-04-30T09:48:13.804+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Movie#4'/><title type='text'>A Short Art Film "Confession"</title><content type='html'>An another short film by Toshiyuki Kimura (for more info about him see &lt;a href="http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2009/03/short-art-film-kill-me-please.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="385" width="480"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/u5bcRLk10X4&amp;hl=ja_JP&amp;fs=1&amp;color1=0x2b405b&amp;color2=0x6b8ab6"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/u5bcRLk10X4&amp;hl=ja_JP&amp;fs=1&amp;color1=0x2b405b&amp;color2=0x6b8ab6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-2664966637444119377?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/2664966637444119377/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=2664966637444119377&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/2664966637444119377'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/2664966637444119377'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2010/04/short-art-film-confession.html' title='A Short Art Film &quot;Confession&quot;'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-5235187676340775815</id><published>2010-04-28T10:10:00.002+09:00</published><updated>2010-04-28T10:11:25.571+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cryptic'/><title type='text'>A Ghost Photograph</title><content type='html'>'We're gonna take ghost photos!' We announced, and boldly made a trip to a hauted place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were four of us ( four stupid guys) in the group and, with a digital camera and mobiles in hand, we took pictures of every suspicious-looking corner of the place.&lt;br /&gt;On coming home we immediately checked all the pictures on my computer but not even one of them had captured the faintest shadow of a ghost. And we took nearly one hundred of them! lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In desperation, I used a group photo with four of us (all stupid-looking) in it and using Photoshop, superimposed this really scary ghost face on top. A fake ghost photo, successfully produced!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I showed it to another friend, and he looked at it and said: 'you....this is for real, man.'&lt;br /&gt;He then went really pale. Idiot! lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*********&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;Saya: Did you get it? Coz I didn't the first time :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-5235187676340775815?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/5235187676340775815/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=5235187676340775815&amp;isPopup=true' title='35 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/5235187676340775815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/5235187676340775815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2010/04/ghost-photograph.html' title='A Ghost Photograph'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>35</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-1035876213429557950</id><published>2010-04-26T22:43:00.003+09:00</published><updated>2010-04-26T22:54:10.708+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tarako Kewpie'/><title type='text'>Tarako Kewpie Orchestra</title><content type='html'>Start every morning with this beautiful Tarako Kewpie song.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/78lbf4ySzA0&amp;amp;hl=ja_JP&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0xcc2550&amp;amp;color2=0xe87a9f"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/78lbf4ySzA0&amp;hl=ja_JP&amp;fs=1&amp;color1=0xcc2550&amp;color2=0xe87a9f" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-1035876213429557950?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/1035876213429557950/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=1035876213429557950&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/1035876213429557950'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/1035876213429557950'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2010/04/tarako-kewpie-orchestra.html' title='Tarako Kewpie Orchestra'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-1959518131059929290</id><published>2010-04-25T15:28:00.004+09:00</published><updated>2010-04-25T16:19:03.041+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cryptic'/><title type='text'>Exam</title><content type='html'>I scored 98% at the autopsy exam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's all thanks to my roommate.&lt;br /&gt;I will tell him when I get home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;Saya: do you get the point of this story? :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-1959518131059929290?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/1959518131059929290/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=1959518131059929290&amp;isPopup=true' title='26 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/1959518131059929290'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/1959518131059929290'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2010/04/exam.html' title='Exam'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>26</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-5992892360206522884</id><published>2010-04-24T20:16:00.005+09:00</published><updated>2010-11-29T17:51:01.825+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cryptic'/><title type='text'>Meat</title><content type='html'>This is what I heard from my friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day he was invited to dinner at a friend's house; that friend was into some weird religious cult.&lt;br /&gt;There he was served some meat, but his host wouldn't tell what kind of meat it was no matter what. &lt;br /&gt;He wondered if it was human meat, but after he ate it he knew it definitely wasn't human meat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder what kind of meat it really was??&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-5992892360206522884?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/5992892360206522884/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=5992892360206522884&amp;isPopup=true' title='23 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/5992892360206522884'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/5992892360206522884'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2010/04/meat.html' title='Meat'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>23</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-997402785711275381</id><published>2010-01-08T14:56:00.007+09:00</published><updated>2010-01-08T16:14:00.743+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Art'/><title type='text'>Tomizaki Nori</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/S0bJe3VggrI/AAAAAAAAAgg/0jU8btAp4Is/s1600-h/nori_tomizaki.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 306px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424244333301760690" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/S0bJe3VggrI/AAAAAAAAAgg/0jU8btAp4Is/s400/nori_tomizaki.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;little&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;"Little Nurse's Scissors"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems girls and dolls are one and the same in the Japanese artist's Tomizaki Nori's mind.&lt;br /&gt;He produces CG drawings of dolls dressed in Gothic Lolita fashion that seem as alive as real girls, and take pictures of real girls impersonating as dolls (below).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/S0bKbAoWiwI/AAAAAAAAAgo/UCFE4uU2XwQ/s1600-h/nori_tomizaki2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 269px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424245366588869378" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/S0bKbAoWiwI/AAAAAAAAAgo/UCFE4uU2XwQ/s400/nori_tomizaki2.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;ball-joint&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;"Ball-Joint Type: Tomoe II"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;You can see more of his works at his website:&lt;a href="http://www.ne.jp/asahi/doll/doll/"&gt; TOMIZAKI NORI&lt;/a&gt; under the "Galleries" section.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-997402785711275381?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/997402785711275381/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=997402785711275381&amp;isPopup=true' title='42 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/997402785711275381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/997402785711275381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2010/01/nori-tomizaki.html' title='Tomizaki Nori'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/S0bJe3VggrI/AAAAAAAAAgg/0jU8btAp4Is/s72-c/nori_tomizaki.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>42</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-7519647210686243459</id><published>2010-01-05T16:14:00.004+09:00</published><updated>2010-01-05T23:06:05.870+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='My Master Series'/><title type='text'>My Master Series: Episode 6 "The Kojoike Tunnel"</title><content type='html'>There were often times when my master could see something that I couldn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One summer my master in the Way of Occult took me on a ride through the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Kojoike&lt;/span&gt; Tunnel around midnight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Kojoike&lt;/span&gt; Tunnel is a famous tunnel situated in K_ , a city which was right next to the one where we lived. The tunnel is known to be one of the five most famous haunted places in the area.&lt;br /&gt;For some strange reason K_city had a lot of &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;haunted&lt;/span&gt; places.&lt;br /&gt;On the way to the tunnel my master explained to me the main attraction of the place:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Kojoike&lt;/span&gt; Tunnel is haunted for real. The telephone box in front of it is also great but inside the tunnel the thing &lt;em&gt;gets in&lt;/em&gt;."&lt;br /&gt;I have heard about that before.&lt;br /&gt;"Especially it's dangerous to have three people in the car. If you leave one seat empty, it gets in &lt;em&gt;there&lt;/em&gt;."&lt;br /&gt;I had a really awful feeling.&lt;br /&gt;There was a stuffed doll on the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;passenger&lt;/span&gt; seat next to my master.&lt;br /&gt;I lost all hope of dissuading him.&lt;br /&gt;"I see. So you are going to lure it in."&lt;br /&gt;The tunnel came into our sight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't see anything in the telephone box in front of the tunnel, but once inside I sensed a palpable difference in the air.&lt;br /&gt;It was much darker than I expected and I kept looking around nervously.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just a few metres into the tunnel all my previous doubt about the rumour was gone; the ear-ringing started.&lt;br /&gt;I was undecided about whether to sit on the right or left side of the seat and ended up just fidgeting uncomfortably in the middle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wondered whether it was going to come from the right, that is, from the direction of the opposite lane, or from the the tunnel wall on the left.&lt;br /&gt;I was holding my breath when my master suddenly shouted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'll kill you, you bast**d!"&lt;br /&gt;I thought he was shouting at me and trembled.&lt;br /&gt;"Keep your head down. Don't let him touch you."&lt;br /&gt;The ear-ringing was getting intense. But I couldn't see anything unusual at all.&lt;br /&gt;I quickly lowered my head but imagining that there might have been an invisible hand that passed over my head nearly gave me a heart attack.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Don't you run away!! If you run away I'll kill you again!"&lt;br /&gt;I had seen him go berserk before but never so intense as this.&lt;br /&gt;"Oi! Don't let him run away. Take pictures, quickly."&lt;br /&gt;He had entrusted me with his camera for this occasion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But- :&lt;br /&gt;"Where is it?"&lt;br /&gt;"Hurry up, he's by the right window."&lt;br /&gt;"I can't see anything!"&lt;br /&gt;"The taxi cap! Can't you see it? - &lt;em&gt;Don't f**king run away! I'll kill you&lt;/em&gt;!"&lt;br /&gt;"I can't see it!"&lt;br /&gt;I heard my master click his tongue in annoyance and saw him turn back to the wheel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Oh no..he is going to stop the car...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt all the blood drain from my face and I pressed the shutter button again and again like crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we came out of the tunnel I was totally shaken.&lt;br /&gt;Later my master showed me the photos he had developed and all of them showed the window and tunnel lights beyond them.&lt;br /&gt;My master said, a little crossly, "it was the window to my right."&lt;br /&gt;When I looked at one of the pictures more closely I saw the reflection of myself holding a camera on the window; and behind me over my shoulder was a transparent shape of a terrified-looking old man wearing a taxi cap.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-7519647210686243459?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/7519647210686243459/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=7519647210686243459&amp;isPopup=true' title='17 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/7519647210686243459'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/7519647210686243459'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2009/01/my-master-series-episode-6-kojoike.html' title='My Master Series: Episode 6 &quot;The Kojoike Tunnel&quot;'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>17</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-1372483376990128103</id><published>2009-12-30T09:48:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2009-12-30T09:48:00.479+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Apparition #2'/><title type='text'>At The Lake</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Saya: a nice littl&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;e story to start with..:)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This happened a few years ago when I was camping by Lake Honsu.&lt;br /&gt;In the middle of night as we sat around the fire I heard a woman scream from the direction of the lake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Heeeeelp! Anyooooone!"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I turned my head towards the lake and and saw a woman drowning in it.&lt;br /&gt;I jumped to my feet, thinking I must help her quickly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was about to throw myself into the water when my friend said:&lt;br /&gt;"What are doing?" He tried to pull me back.&lt;br /&gt;"What am I doing? We've got to help her!"&lt;br /&gt;I replied but he said;&lt;br /&gt;"Cool your head down and look again! You know she's very far from us. But it's picth black! How is it possible that we can see her face so clearly!?"&lt;br /&gt;His words made me look towards the lake again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I realized the woman had stopped struggling in the water and was now staring steadily at us.&lt;br /&gt;But the water was too deep for anyone to stand in! And as my friend said it was pitch black around us, yet I could see every detail of her face.&lt;br /&gt;Her face looked strangely luminous although the light from our fire was too faint to reach that far.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Totally freaked out, we immediately packed everything up and left. We tried not to look towards the lake while we packed but I could feel her eyes following our every move.&lt;br /&gt;I swear I'll never go back to that place again...!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-1372483376990128103?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/1372483376990128103/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=1372483376990128103&amp;isPopup=true' title='27 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/1372483376990128103'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/1372483376990128103'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2009/07/at-lake.html' title='At The Lake'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>27</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-8448075518640753328</id><published>2009-12-24T11:26:00.001+09:00</published><updated>2009-12-24T11:28:05.443+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Words from Saya'/><title type='text'>Greeting</title><content type='html'>Hi everyone!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm hoping to start posting again soon (like next week) :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See you later,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saya&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-8448075518640753328?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/8448075518640753328/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=8448075518640753328&amp;isPopup=true' title='26 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/8448075518640753328'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/8448075518640753328'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2009/12/greeting.html' title='Greeting'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>26</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-3938852925962866433</id><published>2009-07-18T10:53:00.004+09:00</published><updated>2009-07-18T11:14:44.097+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Picture'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Art'/><title type='text'>Kizimecca's Art</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/SmEvgUaIiDI/AAAAAAAAAgY/Cp8sHC_xpVc/s1600-h/s2-kizimecca.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359617263828240434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 223px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/SmEvgUaIiDI/AAAAAAAAAgY/Cp8sHC_xpVc/s400/s2-kizimecca.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.kizimecca.org/index.html"&gt;KIZIMECCA's Bottomless Stratum of Mental Oscillation&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The Japanese artist Kizimecca's website has a list of his works that include stuff like "murder scene photos" in a ruined building, photos of a dead animal, and paintings that depict dismembered and tortured human beings. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;In one interview Kizimecca says his works don't reflect his inner desire to torture and murder people but rather they are meant to be sort of a statement to the society.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Kizimecca also comments: "I want people to see my works and think 'wow they are so beautiful!' although no one has ever said that to me before *laughs*"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-3938852925962866433?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/3938852925962866433/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=3938852925962866433&amp;isPopup=true' title='156 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/3938852925962866433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/3938852925962866433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2009/07/kizimeccas-art.html' title='Kizimecca&apos;s Art'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/SmEvgUaIiDI/AAAAAAAAAgY/Cp8sHC_xpVc/s72-c/s2-kizimecca.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>156</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-7837689182947080344</id><published>2009-07-04T21:13:00.003+09:00</published><updated>2009-07-04T21:41:20.708+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dangerous'/><title type='text'>Dir en Grey "Obscure (the uncensored version)" 18+</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;WARNING - EXTREME VIOLENCE!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;If you do not like seeing &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;BLOOD, SEVERED LIMBS, TORTURE SCENES&lt;/span&gt; etc do not watch it, because I do not want you to be sick all over your computer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's quite loud so watch the volume as well!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dir_en_grey"&gt;Dir en Grey (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;wikipedia&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.direngrey.co.jp/english/top.html"&gt;Dir en Grey Official Site&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/xknLWJhCRVE&amp;amp;hl=ja&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0x234900&amp;amp;color2=0x4e9e00"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/xknLWJhCRVE&amp;hl=ja&amp;fs=1&amp;color1=0x234900&amp;color2=0x4e9e00" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I confess I only watched the beginning.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-7837689182947080344?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/7837689182947080344/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=7837689182947080344&amp;isPopup=true' title='34 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/7837689182947080344'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/7837689182947080344'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2009/07/dir-en-grey-obscure-uncensored-version.html' title='Dir en Grey &quot;Obscure (the uncensored version)&quot; 18+'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>34</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-542919034154473433</id><published>2009-06-28T18:41:00.004+09:00</published><updated>2009-06-28T20:06:52.421+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tarako Kewpie'/><title type='text'>Tarako Kewpie Man: Big Red Things On My Head</title><content type='html'>Yet another indication about dangerous side-effects of Tarako Kewpie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/hj9Ql-DjBSo&amp;amp;hl=ja&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0xcc2550&amp;amp;color2=0xe87a9f"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/hj9Ql-DjBSo&amp;hl=ja&amp;fs=1&amp;color1=0xcc2550&amp;color2=0xe87a9f" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-542919034154473433?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/542919034154473433/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=542919034154473433&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/542919034154473433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/542919034154473433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2009/06/tarako-kewpie-man-big-red-thing-on-my.html' title='Tarako Kewpie Man: Big Red Things On My Head'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-2803499735538867055</id><published>2009-06-26T18:17:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2009-06-26T18:17:38.742+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Inexplicable#2'/><title type='text'>The Polaroid Camera</title><content type='html'>A man was taking pictures of himself using the self-timer on the polaroid camera.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After taking a few pictures he noticed a shadow in the corner of one picture.&lt;br /&gt;He turned around but there was no one behind him. There was only himself in the room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He took one more picture and in it he saw a strange man standing behind him. But when he turned around there was no one there, as before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He then took yet another shot and this time the picture showed the same stranger raising a knife high in the air, ready to strike him...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He stopped taking pictures immediately but who knows what would have happenned if he had shot sequence photographs..?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-2803499735538867055?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/2803499735538867055/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=2803499735538867055&amp;isPopup=true' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/2803499735538867055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/2803499735538867055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2009/06/polaroid-camera.html' title='The Polaroid Camera'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-267439670854033129</id><published>2009-06-21T11:44:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2009-06-21T11:44:32.295+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='People'/><title type='text'>Squirrel</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Saya's&lt;/span&gt; note: this one is also a story I translated a long time ago and hadn't bother to publish until now... Well, well, I hope you enjoy it!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friend S once had a pet squirrel when he was at primary school. He adored it and looked after it well, but one day while he was out the squirrel apparently managed to open the cage on its own and escaped.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He searched every room in his house but couldn't find it.&lt;br /&gt;He lived on the fifth floor of an apartment building. Maybe his squirrel fell from the balcony and died? He went outside and searched the ground below the balcony, but found no dead body of a squirrel or other such things. He then returned home and searched more but it was useless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He wondered if his squirrel fell from the balcony but somehow managed to survive and ran away. For the next week or so he looked everywhere, both inside and outside home, but it seemed his squirrel was lost for good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was on the verge of giving up when one day he found a large envelope inside the post. Usually all mails of the residents would be put in the posts in the ground floor hall, so the fact that there was an envelope inside his house's post meant that someone had brought it in person. S was curious and opened the envelope immediately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And what he found inside - and it was the only thing in it - was a bushy tail of a squirrel...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And S was quite sure that the tail belonged to &lt;em&gt;his&lt;/em&gt; squirrel. Who did this? Was it someone from the neighbourhood? Why was there only the tail in the envelope? What happened to the rest of the body? How did the person who gave him the envelope know that the squirrel belonged to him?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;S never found out the answers. All he could do was cry and bury the tail.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-267439670854033129?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/267439670854033129/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=267439670854033129&amp;isPopup=true' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/267439670854033129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/267439670854033129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2009/06/squirrel.html' title='Squirrel'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-1573751063438200521</id><published>2009-06-14T12:12:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2009-06-14T12:12:38.870+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Inexplicable#2'/><title type='text'>The Taxi</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;Saya's note: I translated this story quite a while ago (maybe it was last year) and left it unpublished thinking it wasn't scary enough... But now I don't have much time updating the blog  I decided to publish it anyway...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I stepped out of the tube station, it was raining heavily outside. I opened my umbrella and started walking. But something was wrong. The atmosphere was somehow very unpleasant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Strange.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every single person I walked past didn't have an umbrella over them. Everyone was silent and looking grim; and they walked on, all facing the same direction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then suddenly a taxi stopped by, and the driver put out his hand and beckoned me to come over. I gestured to him that I didn't need a taxi, but the taxi-driver said, "Come on, get in!"&lt;br /&gt;He was so insistent that I had to give in. Besides I wanted to get away from this unpleasant atmosphere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later, the driver, pale-faced, said to me;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, you know..When I saw you walking as if you were trying to avoid bumping into people on an &lt;em&gt;empty&lt;/em&gt; street, I thought I should help you...."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;I think the taxi driver knew who they were dealing with?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-1573751063438200521?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/1573751063438200521/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=1573751063438200521&amp;isPopup=true' title='18 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/1573751063438200521'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/1573751063438200521'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2009/06/taxi.html' title='The Taxi'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>18</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-7706775474948252193</id><published>2009-06-09T15:08:00.005+09:00</published><updated>2009-06-15T18:05:17.004+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='I&apos;m Lovin&apos; It'/><title type='text'>Ronald In The Grudge</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/CSHOtDJhtxA&amp;amp;hl=ja&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0x234900&amp;amp;color2=0x4e9e00"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/CSHOtDJhtxA&amp;hl=ja&amp;fs=1&amp;color1=0x234900&amp;color2=0x4e9e00" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ronald McDonald stars in &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Grudge"&gt;&lt;em&gt;The Juon 2&lt;/em&gt;(&lt;em&gt;The Grudge 2&lt;/em&gt;). &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-7706775474948252193?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/7706775474948252193/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=7706775474948252193&amp;isPopup=true' title='18 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/7706775474948252193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/7706775474948252193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2009/06/ronald-in-grudge.html' title='Ronald In The Grudge'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>18</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-7769804510641529259</id><published>2009-06-06T16:07:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2009-06-06T16:07:26.592+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='M*ffy'/><title type='text'>Miffy's Mouth</title><content type='html'>The Miffy Urban Legend&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know how Miffy's mouth is shaped "x". But do you know why it's shaped like that??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's because Miffy once tried to eat her friend and so her father sewed her mouth up in the shape of x!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-7769804510641529259?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/7769804510641529259/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=7769804510641529259&amp;isPopup=true' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/7769804510641529259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/7769804510641529259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2009/06/miffys-mouth.html' title='Miffy&apos;s Mouth'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-8058859054764894260</id><published>2009-06-04T11:45:00.003+09:00</published><updated>2009-06-05T11:11:07.544+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='M*ffy'/><title type='text'>Miffy the Predator</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/Sic1rqP3FII/AAAAAAAAAgA/6Q-LiAPafh4/s1600-h/miffyevil2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343298507089843330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 299px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/Sic1rqP3FII/AAAAAAAAAgA/6Q-LiAPafh4/s400/miffyevil2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yes, you know &lt;a href="http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2009/03/miffy-at-mealtime.html"&gt;what happens after this&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-8058859054764894260?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/8058859054764894260/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=8058859054764894260&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/8058859054764894260'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/8058859054764894260'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2009/06/yes-you-know-what-happens-after-this.html' title='Miffy the Predator'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/Sic1rqP3FII/AAAAAAAAAgA/6Q-LiAPafh4/s72-c/miffyevil2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-8140083158672449985</id><published>2009-05-30T10:39:00.001+09:00</published><updated>2010-01-14T14:32:34.636+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sick'/><title type='text'>Infection</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;WARNING&lt;/span&gt; -&lt;em&gt; this story contains descriptions of sex and violence!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This happened last weekend.&lt;br /&gt;I don't usually go out very much but that day I couldn't sleep and had to go to the emergency hospital so I could get some sedatives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was about two after midnight.&lt;br /&gt;On my way home, rinding my bike past a park, I heard a scream come out of the public toilet.&lt;br /&gt;I then saw a white car left idling nearby and I got scared and quickly rode away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next morning I went to the public toilet and found in there torn stockings and knickers, and somehow one high-heel shoe had been left on the floor.&lt;br /&gt;I wondered what happened but found no story relating to it on the newspaper.&lt;br /&gt;That night I couldn't sleep again and took the sedatives I got from the day before.&lt;br /&gt;And as I just sat in my room doing nothing I started thinking about the last night's incident again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looking back that was really stupid of me.&lt;br /&gt;For a reason I can't explain, I found myself in the empty park again.&lt;br /&gt;I was scared to go near the toilet so I just watched it sitting on my bike.&lt;br /&gt;Then it happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly a car stopped behind me and three men got out.&lt;br /&gt;I tried to run away but they dragged me inside their car, and then took me to a place that looked like a warehouse.&lt;br /&gt;It seemed there was some sort of gathering going on in there, and at the further end of the room a naked woman sat crying.&lt;br /&gt;Soon they thrust a towel in my mouth and pushed me to the floor.&lt;br /&gt;And then I was raped by one man after another.&lt;br /&gt;The sedatives soon started taking effect and my memory is hazy about what happened towards the end; but I think it was quite a while before I was released and when I woke up in the morning in my room I felt blood and a huge amount of semen flooding out of my private part.&lt;br /&gt;My stomach still hurts, even now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used to have a boyfriend.&lt;br /&gt;But we kept our relationship a secret.&lt;br /&gt;When my boyfriend died of AIDS in June this year all his friends became strangers.&lt;br /&gt;I too stopped seeing him the moment he was admitted into the hospital.&lt;br /&gt;But, probably, I have it too.&lt;br /&gt;Recently I keep having a sympton similar to cold.&lt;br /&gt;Just like my boyfriend when he was alive.&lt;br /&gt;The men who raped me last week have all probably been infected.&lt;br /&gt;They deserve it.&lt;br /&gt;I am still 22.&lt;br /&gt;I want to live more.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-8140083158672449985?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/8140083158672449985/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=8140083158672449985&amp;isPopup=true' title='17 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/8140083158672449985'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/8140083158672449985'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2009/05/infection.html' title='Infection'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>17</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-5928413589662670074</id><published>2009-05-24T14:10:00.005+09:00</published><updated>2009-06-21T10:57:27.376+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='My Master Series'/><title type='text'>My Master Series: Episode 5 "The Toyama Hotel"</title><content type='html'>There is an experience I still remember vividly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the simple reason that it was summer, me and other members of the club decided to visit a haunted place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The place we chose to explore was the Toyama Hotel&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;*1&lt;/span&gt;, which was an abandoned building located on Toyama Pass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had done some research on the internet and found a lot of reports of ghost sightings in the place:&lt;br /&gt;"There is a fire-ravaged boiler chamber which is really dangerous."&lt;br /&gt;"We heard voices on the third floor."&lt;br /&gt;"Having found nothing we were about to leave when we saw a shadow hovering around a window on the third floor."&lt;br /&gt;I noticed there were more reports about the third floor than anywhere else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To set the mood for the event, we first played kokkuri-san&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;*2&lt;/span&gt; at my house and went to the hotel at midnight. As we were a large group - five boys and five girls - we were quite cheery at first but the atmosphere changed as soon as we saw the large ominous shadow of the Toyama Hotel looming ahead of us .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We'd heard we could sneak in the backdoor through the graveyard next to the hotel so we'd come fully prepared wearing easy-to-move clothes, but we found no graveyard.&lt;br /&gt;There was a place next to the hotel which came closest to the description of the graveyard but it turned out to be just a large open space.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I can't see any graveyards here."&lt;br /&gt;A guy in the group said to me; but when we explored the place more with a flashilight we found a tiered platform, on top of which stood a monolith of strange shape.&lt;br /&gt;"Look, there's some writing on it."&lt;br /&gt;I lit up a section of the monolith and it said: "&lt;em&gt;Memorial for Martyrs&lt;/em&gt;."&lt;br /&gt;Oh my god.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The monolith had an endless list of names on it, such as "33rd Showa&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;*3&lt;/span&gt;, Lieutenant__"&lt;br /&gt;The eerie presence of the monolith plus the ruins next to it made the girls tearful and even the boys started saying straight-faced, "this place isn't good."&lt;br /&gt;I was also scared but it wouldn't be fun if we just left after having come all this way, so I did my best to calm them down.&lt;br /&gt;We then found a little stream at the further end of the field and by crossing over it we finally managed to get to the hotel's backdoor and enter inside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inside was full of rubbish; disused telephones, empty cans... The bathroom and toilets were dirty but seemed new. The wallpapers and carpets were decaying in such a way that was appropriate for ruins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because we only had two flashlights among us we tried to stay close together as we went around the building taking hundreds of photos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The kitchen especially was in good condition with all the utensils and other things like account books remaining intact.&lt;br /&gt;The rumour had it that the hotel went bankrupt after its owner went mad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were feeling slightly braver after we had completed the search on the first floor.&lt;br /&gt;Soon we found and climbed the stairs leading to the second floor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having arrived on the second floor we were talking about going straight on to the third floor, which was where the most rumours about the hotel stemmed from, when suddenly a phone started ringing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The shrill sound echoed in the silence.&lt;br /&gt;It was coming from the third floor.&lt;br /&gt;The girls started screaming their heads off.&lt;br /&gt;A wave of terror began to spread among us and some of us started runnning downstairs.&lt;br /&gt;"Hey, you guys, calm down! I said, calm down!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was my worst nightmare. Panic could lead to an accident.&lt;br /&gt;I hesitated whether to go up or down but the ringing sound was grating my nerves.&lt;br /&gt;"Don't run. Go down slowly."&lt;br /&gt;I said, feeling like their parent, but the two who had flashlights had already gone downstairs.&lt;br /&gt;Darkness suddenly decended on me and I started feeling chilly. I was soon dashing after them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I got to the first floor everyone was gathering in an open space that had once probably been a lobby. Just as I arrived the phone abruptly stopped ringing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I want to go home."&lt;br /&gt;One girl said, crying. There was an awkward silence.&lt;br /&gt;The boys too were looking pale.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was then that the oldest guy in the group spoke up.&lt;br /&gt;He was my Master in the Way of Occult.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sorry, sorry. I'm really sorry."&lt;br /&gt;He said, casually taking out a mobile from his pocket.&lt;br /&gt;"I never imagined you guys would be so scared. I'm sorry."&lt;br /&gt;He then started to explain that he wanted to make the whole exploring experience a little more exciting and had come up with an idea of hiding a mobile on the third floor during the day.&lt;br /&gt;He waited until it was the right moment and made a call to the mobile on the third floor by another mobile in his pocket.&lt;br /&gt;Idiot! Talk about going too far.&lt;br /&gt;Everyone sobered up instantly and we decided to quit it there and then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the way home my master said to me,&lt;br /&gt;"That place is crazy."&lt;br /&gt;I nearly told him: no, it's you who are crazy. But he continued.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"When we were looking at the monolith, did you notice the people in the hotel window?"&lt;br /&gt;I didn't. It never entered my mind to look in that direction at the time.&lt;br /&gt;"I thought, being summer, they were just a gang of kids. But when I went inside it became obvious that I had been wrong. There were a lot more than ten of them there. I mean on the upper floor."&lt;br /&gt;"Who do you mean by '&lt;em&gt;them&lt;/em&gt;'?"&lt;br /&gt;"Did you think I had money to spend on an extra mobile just for a joke?"&lt;br /&gt;Oh no.&lt;br /&gt;"That was the hotel's phone. You heard it, right?&lt;em&gt; &lt;/em&gt;Rriiiiing."&lt;br /&gt;Sure enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After we sent everyone home my master said something unthinkable.&lt;br /&gt;"OK, shall we go back to the hotel now?"&lt;br /&gt;I begged him on my knees not to go and he let me go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But apparently in the end he went back there on his own.&lt;br /&gt;A few days later I asked him what happened.&lt;br /&gt;With an inscrutable half-smile, he said:&lt;br /&gt;"When I went back inside the phone started ringing again. I picked it up but all I could hear from it was &lt;em&gt;riiiiiiiiing. &lt;/em&gt;I yelled, 'you cowards!' And every phone in the hotel started ringing, all at the same time. Then I knew I was in for trouble and I just ran away."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--------&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;1 Toyama Hotel - this used to really exist in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Okayama_Prefecture"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Okayama Prefecture &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;but was demolished and turned into a parking space.&lt;br /&gt;*2 Kokkuri-san - the Japapanese version of the ouija board.&lt;br /&gt;*3 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sh%C5%8Dwa_period"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Showa Period&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; - the period of Japanese history corresponding to the reign of Emperor Shōwa (Hirohito), from December 25, 1926 to January 7, 1989.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-5928413589662670074?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/5928413589662670074/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=5928413589662670074&amp;isPopup=true' title='20 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/5928413589662670074'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/5928413589662670074'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2009/04/my-master-series-episode-5-toyama-hotel.html' title='My Master Series: Episode 5 &quot;The Toyama Hotel&quot;'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>20</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-4661701001357531715</id><published>2009-05-18T21:28:00.004+09:00</published><updated>2009-05-18T21:39:32.804+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Movie#4'/><title type='text'>Blinking Sweater</title><content type='html'>The man is a famous Japanese director, &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mamoru_Oshii"&gt;Mamoru Oshii &lt;/a&gt;(&lt;em&gt;Ghost In The Shell,1995 etc&lt;/em&gt;).&lt;br /&gt;He's got a dog named Gabriel, a basset hound, which is the same breed of dog that's printed on his sweater.&lt;br /&gt;Oshii is well-known for his devotion to his dog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/AX0erT38wnI&amp;amp;hl=ja&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0x006699&amp;amp;color2=0x54abd6"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/AX0erT38wnI&amp;hl=ja&amp;fs=1&amp;color1=0x006699&amp;color2=0x54abd6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-4661701001357531715?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/4661701001357531715/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=4661701001357531715&amp;isPopup=true' title='22 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/4661701001357531715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/4661701001357531715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2009/05/blinking-sweater-uploaded-by-your.html' title='Blinking Sweater'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>22</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-151251554606502171</id><published>2009-05-17T15:31:00.003+09:00</published><updated>2009-05-17T16:03:47.660+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Movie#4'/><title type='text'>The Resident of a Ruined House</title><content type='html'>The person who shot this video regularly goes urban exploring and he found this house by chance on the way home from another ruin nearby.&lt;br /&gt;Inside this house (now demolished and gone) he says he captured &lt;em&gt;two&lt;/em&gt; incredible things on camera...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Wqjd-TSjtpc&amp;amp;hl=ja&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0x234900&amp;amp;color2=0x4e9e00"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Wqjd-TSjtpc&amp;hl=ja&amp;fs=1&amp;color1=0x234900&amp;color2=0x4e9e00" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second object looks similar to the first object but they suspect it isn't a (&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;body&lt;/span&gt;) but a (&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;ghost&lt;/span&gt;). See my comment below for more info.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-151251554606502171?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/151251554606502171/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=151251554606502171&amp;isPopup=true' title='17 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/151251554606502171'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/151251554606502171'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2009/05/resident-of-ruined-house.html' title='The Resident of a Ruined House'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>17</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-4516479069284162119</id><published>2009-05-09T13:50:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2009-05-09T13:49:54.855+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Flash'/><title type='text'>The Sunflower Dance</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Warning&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; - this is a &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;SCREAMER&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; (although mild by my standard).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Despite the title it has no reference to sunflowers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/SgUJWynoMRI/AAAAAAAAAfo/hG0cCeRHMDM/s1600-h/sun.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333679620839977234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 342px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 229px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/SgUJWynoMRI/AAAAAAAAAfo/hG0cCeRHMDM/s400/sun.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://k-motion.hp.infoseek.co.jp/himawari.swf"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;CLICK HERE TO WATCH&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-4516479069284162119?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/4516479069284162119/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=4516479069284162119&amp;isPopup=true' title='19 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/4516479069284162119'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/4516479069284162119'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2009/05/sunflower-dance.html' title='The Sunflower Dance'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/SgUJWynoMRI/AAAAAAAAAfo/hG0cCeRHMDM/s72-c/sun.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>19</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-7783147899533348794</id><published>2009-05-04T21:41:00.003+09:00</published><updated>2009-05-04T21:48:14.135+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Words from Saya'/><title type='text'>Many Thanks!</title><content type='html'>Everyone, thank you very much for your comments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't been able to reply promptly to your comments because I have been busy lately (not just because I'm lazy), but I read all your comments and appreciate them very much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saya&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-7783147899533348794?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/7783147899533348794/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=7783147899533348794&amp;isPopup=true' title='21 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/7783147899533348794'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/7783147899533348794'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2009/05/many-thanks.html' title='Many Thanks!'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>21</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-3407011228594805639</id><published>2009-05-03T18:04:00.001+09:00</published><updated>2009-05-04T09:57:47.899+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Monsters'/><title type='text'>Jashi</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;NOTE:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;em&gt;This is quite a long story so I divided it into THREE parts.&lt;/em&gt; As usual I am not the author of this story; I am only the translator.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;THERE IS A LINK TO "Jashi Part 2" AT THE BOTTOM OF THIS ARTICLE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was 14 at the time when this story took place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During the winter holiday it was decided that I would go to a holiday cottage, owned by my uncle, in N_ prefecture (though my "uncle" was still in his thirties).&lt;br /&gt;I heard that my uncle originally wanted to go there with his girlfriend, but because they had recently split up he invited me instead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me and my uncle had been buddies since I was small and I jumped at the opportunity. My uncle lived in the same town as me, and he came to pick me up at my home early in the morning, and we started for the journey straight away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My uncle was quite a stylish guy, and he had always taught me things about music and outdoor activities etc etc that I really looked up to him.&lt;br /&gt;The journey took us eight long hours but we enjoyed ourselves by talking and listening to music.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we were near the destination we bought some food for supper at supermarket.&lt;br /&gt;And after a long climb up a steep hill, we finally arrived at the cottage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a wooden lodge, not large but looked neat and cosy. Below and not far from us we saw a few other holiday cottages like ours, but these seemed empty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For supper we had barbecue in the garden. After we had eaten enough meat to last our lifetime we moved back inside and played video games in front of the fireplace.&lt;br /&gt;Later in the night our talks turned to ghost stories. My uncle had a deep knowledge on the subject and he really got me scared. I would like to write about his other stories too, if I ever get a chance....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, as if he suddenly remembered it, he said, "don't go to the mountain behind the cottage." He said that no local people would ever go near the mountain if they could help it. Maybe it had nothing to do with it, but there was once a CEO who lived in one of the cottages below and he hanged himself in the mountain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, how could I even imagine going there after listening to these stories?&lt;br /&gt;After this we continued talking and playing, and it was nearly five in the morning when we finally went to bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up in the bright daylight. It was just past noon. Feeling thirsty, I went downstairs to get some water. On the way I peeped into my uncle's room and he was still deep in the dream world. It was a cold but fresh morning. The air in the countryside was totally different from the one in the city.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stepped out on the balcony and sat on a chair. The balcony faced the mountain my uncle had told me about on the previous night. The mountain looked just like any other mountains I had ever seen.&lt;br /&gt;I remembered there was a telescope inside the cottage and brought it outside so I could enjoy the beauty of the nature to full. It was a high-performance telescope and I could see clearly even things that were very far away. When I moved my focus to the mountain I was thrilled to see some birds resting on the branches that looked like they were right in front of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For about half an hour I was totally engrossed in looking into the telescope, until I noticed something was moving among the trees on the mountain side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;A man?&lt;/em&gt; That was what it looked like. I could see the man's back. His head was totally hairless. He kept swaying back and forth. &lt;em&gt;A local man? A dance?&lt;/em&gt; In his hand was a large scythe. It was just unbelievable that someone could be naked outside in this cold weather. Was it a part of a festival? But he was alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was confused and a lot of thoughts entered my mind. Because I was facing his back I couldn't see his face. His movement reminded me of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Sankai&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Juku&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;*1&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I must not watch it any further.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I instinctively sensed danger. He was probably someone a bit funny in the head. It was freaky. But my curiosity took the better of me. I set the zoom level to max. The hairless head - it was pure white. It gave me a chill.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just then the guy, still dancing, turned around slowly towards me. On the first look the guy's face gave an appearance of having an ordinary human face. It had a nose and a mouth; but it had no eyebrows and there was only one eye at the top of the nose - the eye which vertically opened. I trembled. One-eyed. Demented and deformed&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;*2&lt;/span&gt;. Our eyes met through the lens. The guy twisted his lips. He was smiling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Aaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh&lt;/span&gt;!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The moment our eyes met I let out a scream. I couldn't stop crying. I just wanted to die. I was suddenly overcome by a strong feeling of depression. &lt;em&gt;I wanna die I wanna die&lt;/em&gt;.... I was half crazed and kept running around the room when my uncle came rushing in.&lt;br /&gt;"What's happened?"&lt;br /&gt;"Monster!"&lt;br /&gt;"Eh?"&lt;br /&gt;"The telescope! The mountain!"&lt;br /&gt;My uncle looked through the telescope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"~~~~~~~~~~~~!!"&lt;br /&gt;He let out an indecipherable groan and put his head in his hands. He was crying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By this time I had become a little calmer and asked,&lt;br /&gt;"What's the hell was that!!"&lt;br /&gt;"__&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;koooh!&lt;/span&gt; ___&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;kooooh!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;*3&lt;/span&gt;," he kept shouting his ex-girlfriend's name, while crying uncontrollably. &lt;em&gt;I've got to do something&lt;/em&gt;, I thought, and for the first time in my life I hit someone really hard in his face.&lt;br /&gt;My uncle's body shook. Ten seconds...twenty seconds were gone before he finally looked at me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Jashi&lt;/span&gt;."&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;em&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Jashi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;?"&lt;br /&gt;"Listen. there are sunglasses in the desk in my room . Bring them over here. One for me and one for you as well"&lt;br /&gt;"Why?"&lt;br /&gt;"Just do it!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I handed him the sunglasses as I was told. With shaking hands he put the sunglasses on and looked through the telescope. He moved the telescope around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Damn!"&lt;br /&gt;He said, and beckoned to me.&lt;br /&gt;"Put on the sunglasses and look."&lt;br /&gt;Fearfully I put the glasses on and looked through the telescope.&lt;br /&gt;Although it was somewhat harder to see because of the sunglasses, I found the creature among the trees and our eyes met again. An unnameable fear gripped me but the feeling was not as strong as before. Still, my heart kept beating wildly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But what caught my attention most was that the creature wasn't in the same place as I first saw him... The creature kept performing a weird jelly-fish like dance: despite the wild movement he kept a steady gaze towards our direction.&lt;br /&gt;Was he moving down the mountain - to get here!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Do you want to pee?"&lt;br /&gt;"What? Why now, of all the times!?"&lt;br /&gt;"If you do, go and pee it into that empty bottle in the kitchen."&lt;br /&gt;Saying thus, my uncle went downstairs. I couldn't possibly think of doing it at a time like this and I just stood there dumbfounded. Soon my uncle came back with a bottle into which he had poured his urine.&lt;br /&gt;"When you feel like peeing use this," he said, and handed me an empty bottle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I mean, what's on earth is that creature?"&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Yama&lt;/span&gt;-no-mono(a thing of mountain)... &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Yamako&lt;/span&gt; (mountain child).... I don't know. But when I was a kid I used to go camping in mountains with my father...oh, no, not that mountain! In mountains strange things can happen... We once heard people talking outside our tent at night even though there was nobody there. When things like that happened we would spray some urine around and the sounds would stop..."&lt;br /&gt;He peered into the telescope once more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Damn it!"&lt;br /&gt;Despite looking obviously distressed, he seemed he was trying his best to observe the creature.&lt;br /&gt;"That thing... I don't know exactly at what speed but it's moving very slowly. Now I've lost him.. But there is no doubt he's moving towards this cottage."&lt;br /&gt;"Well, we've got to get out of here and run away!"&lt;br /&gt;"That wouldn't make any difference, probably... Unless we can divert his interest to something else he will follow us, to the world's end. This is a kind of curse. You write 'evil eye' and read it '&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;jashi&lt;/span&gt;'..."&lt;br /&gt;"You said that word that before. How come you know so much about it?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Once I was travelling in North Europe -. Well, I'll talk about that later if we can come out of this alive."&lt;br /&gt;"What do you mean by 'if we can come out of this alive'? Are we just gonna wait here like idiots until that creature comes for us?"&lt;br /&gt;"No. We're going to counter-attack him."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My opinion was to stay put and hide in the cottage, but my uncle said that we had to do something before the creature reached us. I thought it would be far better to just run away than go and meet the ghastly thing, but I had always trusted my uncle. In the end, out of my respect for him, I decided to follow his decision.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Carrying the sunglasses, bottle, light snacks, binocular, wooden bat, and flashlight for each of us, we went to the mountain. My uncle said he wanted to finish it all before it got dark.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Could we really fight against its baleful eye? Was having sunglasses enough to endure eyeing the creature at close range? A lot of thoughts were running around in my head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The mountain was a bigger place than I had expected. With binoculars in our hands, we searched around for the creature for a while, but my uncle said because the creature was moving towards us we would run into each other eventually.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It would be dangerous to go too far in the mountain as it was getting dark, so we decided to wait for the creature in an open area about 500 m from our cottage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"As I said, all we've got to do is divert its interest from us...that's all we have to do.."&lt;br /&gt;"How?"&lt;br /&gt;"We have to get close to him, that's for sure. But don't look straight into his eyes. You've got to see him sideways. You know what I'm talking about, don't you? Try to locate him without making an eye contact. And then splash urine over him. If that doesn't work - you listening? I'm serious - if that doesn't work, show your penis to him."&lt;br /&gt;"What?"&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Jashi&lt;/span&gt; hates things unclean, like feces and urine, and sex organs... It won't kill him but it could make him go away; it would mean we have some hope of saving ourselves."&lt;br /&gt;"What if it doesn't work?"&lt;br /&gt;"Then we would have to run away. By car."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wrapped up in an undefinable terror we sat on the rocks and waited. We took turns looking into the binoculars. It was four in the evening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://siustoreroom.blogspot.com/2009/04/jashi-2.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Go to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Jashi&lt;/span&gt; #2&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;----------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;Notes:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;*1&lt;/span&gt; &lt;a href="http://siustoreroom.blogspot.com/2009/04/sanka-juku.html"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Sankai&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Juku&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; - an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;avant&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;garde&lt;/span&gt; dance group specializing in a type of dance called "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;Ankoku&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;Butoh&lt;/span&gt;" meaning "dance of darkness."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;*2&lt;/span&gt; Demented and deformed - I say this again to avoid misunderstandings: I have nothing against people with any form of disability. I am not the author of this story (I'm only translating it) and I am sorry if this story has offended someone with its use of certain discriminatory words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;*3&lt;/span&gt; _&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;kooh&lt;/span&gt; - indicating the uncle is shouting a girl's name ending with "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;ko&lt;/span&gt;," like Yoko Ono. From the end of WW2 until recently (as far as I know), using "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;ko&lt;/span&gt;(meaning "little,""child") to end a girl's name with was a popular practice. But the popularity has been waning somewhat in recent years and it is now rarer to find little girls with "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;ko&lt;/span&gt;" at the end of their names. The use of "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;ko&lt;/span&gt;" has connotations of being old fashioned and formal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-3407011228594805639?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/3407011228594805639/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=3407011228594805639&amp;isPopup=true' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/3407011228594805639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/3407011228594805639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2009/05/jashi.html' title='Jashi'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-3183109376369555964</id><published>2009-04-24T14:43:00.004+09:00</published><updated>2009-04-24T14:54:37.912+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Movie#4'/><title type='text'>A Weird Video</title><content type='html'>Plain weird...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="357" height="286" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-bdaefa82a8a79395" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v2.nonxt4.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dbdaefa82a8a79395%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331056214%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3DF50E008A994DFB8CC5BB49CC5B8225BA6293835.190AAF1DD9CF769387470832452EA76AF37C860%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dbdaefa82a8a79395%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DJWlWAd4eddUf9f3JkE_d3TYyCT0&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="357" height="286" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v2.nonxt4.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dbdaefa82a8a79395%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331056214%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3DF50E008A994DFB8CC5BB49CC5B8225BA6293835.190AAF1DD9CF769387470832452EA76AF37C860%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dbdaefa82a8a79395%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DJWlWAd4eddUf9f3JkE_d3TYyCT0&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-3183109376369555964?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/3183109376369555964/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=3183109376369555964&amp;isPopup=true' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/3183109376369555964'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/3183109376369555964'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2009/04/weird-video.html' title='A Weird Video'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-1924802987173193058</id><published>2009-04-22T20:30:00.003+09:00</published><updated>2009-04-22T20:34:59.009+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Words from Saya'/><title type='text'>NOTICE from Saya</title><content type='html'>My holiday is over and I am getting busier.&lt;br /&gt;So I don't think I will be able to update as often as I used to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My plan at the moment is to try updating at least once a week, like &lt;strong&gt;one article every Sunday&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Anyway I will let you know what happens!&lt;br /&gt;Thanks!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-1924802987173193058?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/1924802987173193058/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=1924802987173193058&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/1924802987173193058'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/1924802987173193058'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2009/04/notice-from-saya.html' title='NOTICE from Saya'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-5334164550950264414</id><published>2009-04-22T18:27:00.005+09:00</published><updated>2009-04-22T20:29:37.855+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tarako Kewpie'/><title type='text'>Tarako Kewpie - Health Warning</title><content type='html'>This is what happens to you if you've seen too much Tarako Kewpie videos, listened to too much Tarako Kewpie songs, played too much with Tarako Kewpie lego bricks, and slept too long on the Tarako Kewpie pillow...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ubQrpAmG-Dw&amp;amp;hl=ja&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0xcc2550&amp;amp;color2=0xe87a9f"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ubQrpAmG-Dw&amp;hl=ja&amp;fs=1&amp;color1=0xcc2550&amp;color2=0xe87a9f" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-5334164550950264414?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/5334164550950264414/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=5334164550950264414&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/5334164550950264414'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/5334164550950264414'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2009/04/tarako-kewpie-health-warning.html' title='Tarako Kewpie - Health Warning'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-627048865641130701</id><published>2009-04-16T09:04:00.002+09:00</published><updated>2010-10-27T14:42:32.152+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='People'/><title type='text'>The Visually Impaired Person</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size: 85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;Disclaimer&lt;/span&gt; - I, Saya, did NOT write this story and I have nothing against the physically disabled. And I think this story does not intend to hurt the disabled either. This story perhaps involves evil people who&lt;em&gt; happen to be&lt;/em&gt; disabled, but not any people who are evil on account of their disability, if you get my meaning. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This happened when I had just moved to a city and started a life of my own.&lt;br /&gt;One late night I was walking home after a staff welcome party at the office.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The apartment where I lived stood in the middle of a quiet residential area and at night it was even quieter with hardly any people on the streets. I was quite scared as I was walking alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When at last my apartment came into view, I saw a woman walking down the street towards me. The woman walked with a noticeable stagger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't pay too much attention to her as she was a woman and I thought I would be safe. I was about to get inside my apartment when the woman bumped into a van that parked in front of the entrance and fell right down on her face. When I looked at her closely she was wearing sunglasses and in her hand was a white stick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hurriedly ran to her help and asked if she was alright. She muttered something to the effect of, 'I'm fine,' in a quiet and inarticulate voice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She seemed to be still in her twenties and also seemed visually impaired. I felt sorry for her because she was walking on her own in the middle of the night in such a condition.&lt;br /&gt;I asked her, 'where are you heading to?'&lt;br /&gt;The woman again muttered something like, 'I'm visiting a friend who lives in an apartment around here, but I lost my way.' And then she said, 'I don't know where I am right now. If you know this area can you help me to find my friend's house?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought it was just natural to help visually-impaired people and said, 'OK.'&lt;br /&gt;'Then please lend me your arm and we can go together, ' the suddenly-perky woman said, and we started walking together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We walked arm in arm. The woman often asked me questions such as, 'what do you see now?' and she led the way by giving me orders such as, 'then we turn left here,' or 'turn right at the next corner.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was very dark around us.&lt;br /&gt;At one point a car drove past us and the light from it fell on her face; I got a glimpse of her eyes behind the sunglasses and she was clearly watching my expression.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That definitely made me suspicious and I began to feel scared about the situation in which I　found myself in (the woman firmly had her both arms entwined with my right arm, and I was holding a bag in my left hand).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I thought to myself, what if she was really handicapped? And I felt guilty about being suspicious and in the end we walked for a good fifteen minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also the subjects she chose to talk about while we walked were really bizarre and freaky:&lt;br /&gt;"The person I'm about to see is also handicapped," she said.&lt;br /&gt;"He is still at primary school, and he has lost both his arms."&lt;br /&gt;"He has been depressed for a long time, so I decided to knit him a jumper but I wasn't certain what to do with the arm parts."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Listening to her was the freakiest thing that had ever happened in my life and I was near to tears as I tried my best to respond to her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The more we walked the darker and quieter the streets became.&lt;br /&gt;I had even began to think about getting into a fight with her, if necessary, in order to get away, when she said:&lt;br /&gt;'I think we are nearly there. Could you please tell me the apartment's name?'&lt;br /&gt;I told her the name and she said, 'OK. I'm fine now. Thank you.'&lt;br /&gt;She released me without problems.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Oh no! I knew I was wrong!&lt;/em&gt; I thought, ashamed of myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But as soon as I began to calm down I became suspicious of her again (how, for example, did she know which ways were right or wrong? ) It bothered me so much that I decided to see what she was going to do next from the corner of the street.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And in less than a minute I saw the same woman coming down the stairs of the apartment, with steady, light steps. So I had been right about her all along; she had played a practical joke on me.&lt;br /&gt;I was going to make a complaint to her, when I saw another person coming down the stairs. The person was a man, about in his late twenties, very fat, and what's more, without arms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The pair kept looking around them restlessly as if they were expecting someone; and they kept whispering to each other although I couldn't hear what they were saying.&lt;br /&gt;Then all of a sudden the woman began to violently pull at the man's sweatshirt, almost as if she was trying to tear it apart!&lt;br /&gt;The man tried to resist but in the end he got stripped of the clothes and went naked above the waist.&lt;br /&gt;The sight of his naked armless shoulders and a sudden violent outburst of the woman shocked me into crying. It was all I could do not to scream.&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to run away but my legs had already turned to jelly and I was also scared that they might see me and start chasing after me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The armless man were rolling on the ground and screaming some incoherent words.&lt;br /&gt;The woman then took out something that looked like a vacuum bottle(?) from her bag and started pouring a large amount of some liquid over the half-naked man.&lt;br /&gt;Steam was coming out of the liquid which indicated that it was very hot, and the man let out a hair-raising scream, but no one in the neighbourhood was coming out to see what was going on.&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't stand the fear any longer and ran away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fortunately no one came after me. I ran back into my apartment and locked myself in. I was teary and shaky for the whole of the rest of the evening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still wonder what it was that I saw...&lt;br /&gt;Has anyone had a similar experience before? This happened six years ago.&lt;br /&gt;There is more to this story, by the way. Would you like to hear it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #ff9900;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;After a comment:&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This happened at a much later date. About two years had passed since then and I had almost forgotten about it all. One day I was in a department store.&lt;br /&gt;I was passing through a floor to get to the escalator, when I noticed a familiar figure.&lt;br /&gt;I gave the person a quick glance as I walked by and it was &lt;em&gt;the &lt;/em&gt;woman.&lt;br /&gt;She wore the same clothes and the same sunglasses. There was no mistake.&lt;br /&gt;She was&lt;em&gt; not&lt;/em&gt; holding the white stick but this time one of her arms was missing (or that was how it looked to me).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The woman didn't seem like she had noticed me and she was standing with downcast eyes.&lt;br /&gt;In front of her was a pram and she was trying to do something to the baby with her one arm.&lt;br /&gt;The mother of the baby was looking at shelves and was unaware of what was happening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took it all in in one second and in a flash I was running down the escalator.&lt;br /&gt;I dashed back home and I was again in tears.&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to get involved with the woman in any way, ever again.&lt;br /&gt;I was worried about the baby but I had never told a soul about it until now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get depressed whenever I think I might see her again somewhere in the future.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-627048865641130701?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/627048865641130701/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=627048865641130701&amp;isPopup=true' title='23 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/627048865641130701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/627048865641130701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2009/04/visually-impaired-person.html' title='The Visually Impaired Person'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>23</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-4905834380947137283</id><published>2009-04-14T14:28:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2009-04-14T14:28:55.610+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Inexplicable#2'/><title type='text'>Three Customers</title><content type='html'>A taxi driver was driving in __ (an area's name) when he saw three girls standing by the road with their hands raised.&lt;br /&gt;Customers! The taxi driver thought, and stopped his car to pick them up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Where are you off to?' The taxi driver asked, and they answered that one of the girls had a stomach ache and wanted to be taken to the hospital.&lt;br /&gt;The taxi driver glanced at the girl in question and noted that the girl certainly looked very pale and seemed to be in great pain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was an emergency for sure, and he decided to take them to the T__ hospital, the closest from where they were and also the most famous hospital in the area.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When they arrived at the hospital the girls told him, 'we would like to stay with her (i.e. the girl with stomach ache) so if you don't mind, could you please go inside and get someone?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The taxi driver agreed to their request and went to the hospital's front desk. There he told the nurse what had happened and asked her if she could go have a look at the patient in the car.&lt;br /&gt;The nurse said OK and went to the car park, leaving the taxi driver at the front desk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.......... Some minutes later the nurse came back to the front desk, ashen-faced.&lt;br /&gt;'What did you do that for?!' She asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The taxi driver had no idea what she meant.&lt;br /&gt;'Why did you do it?!' said the nurse again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Why do you have dead bodies in your car?!!'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;According to the nurse, a few days ago some college girls met an accident while driving in the area. They were brought to the hospital but in spite of all efforts to save them, they all passed away.&lt;br /&gt;And their bodies had been placed in the mortuary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the bodies in the taxi and the bodies of the college girls were unmistakably one and the same.&lt;br /&gt;'What were you trying to do by stealing the bodies from our hospital?'&lt;br /&gt;The nurse pressed him for an answer; but when the taxi driver picked the girls up, they appeared to be nothing but alive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, the place where the taxi driver picked up the girls was the same place where the girls had the accident....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder what these girls wanted to do?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-4905834380947137283?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/4905834380947137283/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=4905834380947137283&amp;isPopup=true' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/4905834380947137283'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/4905834380947137283'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2009/04/three-customers.html' title='Three Customers'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-3680388064283824454</id><published>2009-04-11T09:29:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2009-04-11T09:29:54.927+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Apparition #2'/><title type='text'>The Balcony</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;reminder: "I" in this story is not me, Saya! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is my friend's experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When he first entered university and started living on his own he began to experience sleep paralysis frequently. At the same time he began to get many wrong phone calls. For example he received a lot of messages from a strange old woman on his answering machine, and once he even got a message from one stranger saying, 'your father is dead,' and that nearly gave him a heart attack (his father of course was alive).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day he was dozing on his bed when he saw someone running on his balcony. Without thinking he shouted, 'Hey!You!'&lt;br /&gt;And it seemed this annoyed the person on the balcony and he came into my friend's bedroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At first my friend thought the man was alone and he thought he would just kick him out, but the man wasn't the only one on the balcony. There were other people and they kept coming in until there were around five or six people who stood surrounding his bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And my friend became paralysed, seemingly from fear. He couldn't do anything with his paralysed body and he just kept saying to them in his mind, 'I'm sorry, I'm sorry,' over and over.&lt;br /&gt;That seemed to have worked and the people left his room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After they were gone my friend fearfully went out on the balcony to look. His house is on the fifth floor and his balcony and his neighbours' balconies on both sides were separated by walls. The walls were special ones that were breakable in case of emergency, but they weren't broken and no one could possibly have passed through the balcony.&lt;br /&gt;My friend thought it all had been a dream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then days had passed since and he no longer remembered about the dream. One night he was drinking with his friend in his room and they were talking and enjoying themselves when his friend suddenly shouted, 'hey, you there!' and tried to go out on the balcony.&lt;br /&gt;He asked the friend, 'what's wrong?' The friend told him that just now he saw some men running on the balcony.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was then that my friend remembered that he had had exactly the same experience before and that he had never told about it to anyone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-3680388064283824454?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/3680388064283824454/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=3680388064283824454&amp;isPopup=true' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/3680388064283824454'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/3680388064283824454'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2009/04/balcony.html' title='The Balcony'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-9045001258116250022</id><published>2009-04-09T16:46:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2009-04-09T16:46:50.200+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Inexplicable#2'/><title type='text'>Don't look behind you</title><content type='html'>In the town where I lived there was an abandoned apartment with two-floors. It had broken windows and dirty, crumbling walls, so no locals would ever go near it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day me and my friend decided to explore the place. It was still early in the afternoon and there was a lot of light, so we ventured to the second floor.&lt;br /&gt;And there on one of the doors we found some graffiti.&lt;br /&gt;We went closer to have a look and found some words that said:"I am in the room ahead."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We decided to go through the door.&lt;br /&gt;We walked until we reached a fork and on the wall it said:"I am on the left."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were getting slightly scared but decided to turn left.&lt;br /&gt;Then we came to the place where there were rooms on both sides of us.&lt;br /&gt;And on the wall it said, "My head is on the left and my body is on the right."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friend, as soon as he saw it, lost nerve and ran away. But I decided to stay and, mustering all my courage, walked through the door on the right. I walked to the farthest wall in the room and on the wall it said: "My body is underneath." I looked down and on the floor it said: "My head is coming here from the room on the left. Don't look behind you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quickly I flung myself through the window and ran away.&lt;br /&gt;Since then I have never been near the place.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-9045001258116250022?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/9045001258116250022/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=9045001258116250022&amp;isPopup=true' title='21 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/9045001258116250022'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/9045001258116250022'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2009/04/dont-look-behind-you.html' title='Don&apos;t look behind you'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>21</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-2466691923947956532</id><published>2009-04-06T22:48:00.001+09:00</published><updated>2009-04-06T22:50:17.577+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sick'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Movie'/><title type='text'>Suicide</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;WARNING - DISTURBING!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although this is a cheap animation and there is nothing too graphic in it, I found this video very disturbing perhaps due to the theme it deals with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Definitely &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;not for children&lt;/span&gt; though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And of course don't watch it if you are feeling depressed or suicidal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ettqqF2IvV4&amp;amp;hl=ja&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0x234900&amp;amp;color2=0x4e9e00"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ettqqF2IvV4&amp;hl=ja&amp;fs=1&amp;color1=0x234900&amp;color2=0x4e9e00" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could look at it positively and think it's trying to put people off suicide.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-2466691923947956532?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/2466691923947956532/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=2466691923947956532&amp;isPopup=true' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/2466691923947956532'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/2466691923947956532'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2009/04/suicide.html' title='Suicide'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-8790222123145093012</id><published>2009-04-05T19:20:00.001+09:00</published><updated>2009-04-05T19:23:43.732+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Movie'/><title type='text'>Lovedolls (18+, just in case)</title><content type='html'>A man with a fetish for dolls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/HGfaQCY_bo4&amp;amp;hl=ja&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0x234900&amp;amp;color2=0x4e9e00"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/HGfaQCY_bo4&amp;hl=ja&amp;fs=1&amp;color1=0x234900&amp;color2=0x4e9e00" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh my! This video makes it sound like Japanese men are weird!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, it's true Japanese men are weird in general, but not all of them love playing with dolls (I hope).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Get high quality silicone dolls from &lt;a href="http://www.orient-doll.com/top.html"&gt;Orient Industry&lt;/a&gt;. (&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;not for underage children&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;You can get your own custom made dolls there too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-8790222123145093012?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/8790222123145093012/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=8790222123145093012&amp;isPopup=true' title='16 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/8790222123145093012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/8790222123145093012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2009/04/lovedolls-18-just-in-case.html' title='Lovedolls (18+, just in case)'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>16</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-4560074863636207319</id><published>2009-04-05T10:52:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2009-04-05T10:52:09.282+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ritual'/><title type='text'>Terror at Two</title><content type='html'>At two after midnight look into the mirror with a comb in your mouth:&lt;br /&gt;If you can not see your reflection in it, then it means you will die the next day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-4560074863636207319?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/4560074863636207319/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=4560074863636207319&amp;isPopup=true' title='23 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/4560074863636207319'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/4560074863636207319'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2009/04/terror-at-two.html' title='Terror at Two'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>23</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-2403149386057926460</id><published>2009-04-04T19:35:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2009-04-04T19:35:07.814+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tarako Kewpie'/><title type='text'>Tarako Kewpie Goodies #2</title><content type='html'>7. The Tarako Kewpie Music Box&lt;br /&gt;This could be a romantic present for a girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/8qI-KWAK8EE&amp;amp;hl=ja&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0xcc2550&amp;amp;color2=0xe87a9f"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/8qI-KWAK8EE&amp;hl=ja&amp;fs=1&amp;color1=0xcc2550&amp;color2=0xe87a9f" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. The Dancing Tarako Kewpie Doll&lt;br /&gt;The toy has got a sensor inside and starts dancing when it's hit by sunlight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/UQ_BhDk8eLk&amp;amp;hl=ja&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0xcc2550&amp;amp;color2=0xe87a9f"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/UQ_BhDk8eLk&amp;hl=ja&amp;fs=1&amp;color1=0xcc2550&amp;color2=0xe87a9f" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-2403149386057926460?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/2403149386057926460/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=2403149386057926460&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/2403149386057926460'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/2403149386057926460'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2009/04/tarako-kewpie-goodies-2.html' title='Tarako Kewpie Goodies #2'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-496819420292646873</id><published>2009-04-04T04:44:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2009-04-11T12:44:13.263+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ritual'/><title type='text'>The 4th-Dimension Wall</title><content type='html'>At 04:44:44am on the 4&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; of April if you lean against a pure white wall with your back, you will enter into the world of 4&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; dimension and you will be trapped in there forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;*&lt;/span&gt;I'm republishing this article because this is the day! :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-496819420292646873?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/496819420292646873/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=496819420292646873&amp;isPopup=true' title='30 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/496819420292646873'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/496819420292646873'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2009/03/4th-dimension-wall.html' title='The 4th-Dimension Wall'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>30</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-8892833098103678497</id><published>2009-04-03T17:25:00.004+09:00</published><updated>2009-12-25T10:50:50.148+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='My Master Series'/><title type='text'>My Master Series: Episode 4 "Disappearance"</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;*reminder - "I" in this story is not me, Saya!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm thinking to write more stories about my master but I could get bored or depressed by your criticisms, so I'll write how it all ended first, that is about my master's disappearance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During my third year at university my master was working as the university librarian. At the time he was often nervous, and would do things like pointing at an empty space and scream: "I see a woman over there!" I didn't feel or see anything but then I wasn't gifted like master, so I got freaked out too imagining what might have been there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was not until the autumn of the same year that I began to suspect there was something not quite right about him. We hardly ever saw each other then, but one day we met in the university canteen by chance and sat at the same table. My master then out of blue said, "the table behind us - how many people are there?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was nine in the evening and the canteen was almost empty. There was nobody at the table behind us.&lt;br /&gt;"Do you see anything?"&lt;br /&gt;When I asked he said, "you see them, don't you? How many?" and started trembling.&lt;br /&gt;There was no ear ringing or chills that usually accompanied such experiences. A thought entered my head then that maybe he was imagining things...&lt;br /&gt;"Don't worry. There is nobody."&lt;br /&gt;I said, and he answered, "yes, yes. Of course," looking really relieved.&lt;br /&gt;I was now convinced.&lt;br /&gt;There was no ghost.&lt;br /&gt;If there was a ghost, it lived in my master's mind only.&lt;br /&gt;The word "madness" flashed in my head, and I was overwhlemed by a sudden urge to weep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had done the&lt;a href="http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2007/08/100-ghost-stories-hyaku-monogatari.html"&gt; hundred-stories&lt;/a&gt; and went to countless number of haunted places together. We had committed some unholy acts and even tried calling up the dead. It would surprise no one if we were already possessed.&lt;br /&gt;But the reason for my master's madness had nothing to do with these.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three days after the encounter in the canteen my master disappeared. He left a letter saying no one should look for him, and I felt bound by his words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;It seemed my master came from a troubled family. The university made a contact with someone who claimed to be my master's aunt, and she came to clean up his apartment room. She was such a horrible bitch that she shoved me out of the room as soon as she saw me, even though it was after I told her I was her nephew's best friend. She could at least have asked how he was like before he disappeared.&lt;br /&gt;That was the end of it all. But I have my opinions about the matter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I first entered the university I heard rumours going around about him. "&lt;em&gt;He has killed before&lt;/em&gt;," was what some people whispered jokingly behind his back. But I think it was no joke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was something my master always said whenever he got drunk: "where you should bury the body - that is all that matters." We had an unspoken rule that when my master said this sort of joke we shouldn't go too deeply into the subject. But whenever he said these "jokes" his eyes would always shine darkly and it scared me to look at them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it makes me shudder to think of the times when I visited haunted places with my master in his car. Especially when we went to a particular hill ( the one with the famous "house of massacre") and while there he said the following words:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"A large number of unidentified people act in the middle of the night. And strange rumours. If the reason is not grudge, you can not identify one single person. "&lt;br /&gt;When I heard these words I couldn't understand what the heck he was talking about but now I think he was looking for somewhere to bury &lt;em&gt;it&lt;/em&gt; as we toured around haunted places.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What scares me most is imagining that he could have been hiding &lt;em&gt;it&lt;/em&gt; in the car boot while I sat on the passenger seat next to him...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lookin back, there are so many things about him that remain mysterious to me. All I know is even a person as gifted as he was couldn't overcome the darkness that eats us from within. I guess ever since that "noodle incident" he slowly succumbed to madness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are words by my master which are etched deeply in my memory. He said them when he took me to a more "serious" haunted place for the first time and I was shaking like a leaf from fear:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What makes you afraid of this darkness? Close your eyes; there lies the deepest darkness that exists in the world." &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-8892833098103678497?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/8892833098103678497/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=8892833098103678497&amp;isPopup=true' title='20 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/8892833098103678497'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/8892833098103678497'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2009/04/my-master-series-episode-4.html' title='My Master Series: Episode 4 &quot;Disappearance&quot;'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>20</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-6253118344184616784</id><published>2009-04-02T19:30:00.010+09:00</published><updated>2009-06-05T11:12:55.830+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='M*ffy'/><title type='text'>The Evil Miffy</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/SdSVAKvgcwI/AAAAAAAAAfg/BBSzG4PxdfQ/s1600-h/miffyevil.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320040889947550466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 360px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 360px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/SdSVAKvgcwI/AAAAAAAAAfg/BBSzG4PxdfQ/s400/miffyevil.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The words in the background say:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My Rabbit:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Bred,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tamed,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Imprisoned.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-6253118344184616784?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/6253118344184616784/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=6253118344184616784&amp;isPopup=true' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/6253118344184616784'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/6253118344184616784'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2009/04/evil-miffy.html' title='The Evil Miffy'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/SdSVAKvgcwI/AAAAAAAAAfg/BBSzG4PxdfQ/s72-c/miffyevil.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-8119951908804556801</id><published>2009-04-01T13:45:00.008+09:00</published><updated>2010-12-04T21:23:32.448+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dream'/><title type='text'>The Truth about My Family's Odd Behaviour</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;*&lt;span style="font-size: 85%;"&gt;reminder!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 85%;"&gt; - "I" in this story is not me, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Saya&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;unbelievable&lt;/span&gt; story that really happened to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It all happened when I was fifteen years old. I was living with my mum, dad and my little brother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the new year's eve after we finished watching TV I went to bed hoping to have a nice dream, but instead I had a nightmare (I can't remember the content of the dream) and woke up quite suddenly during the night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could hear my heart beating very fast and my whole body was drenched in cold sweat as if someone had poured water down my back. I sat bolt upright on my bed and stayed that way for a while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"This is just great - a nightmare on the new year's day!" I thought bitterly, and as I didn't feel like going back to sleep straight away I went to the sitting room to get a drink (we had a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;refrigerator&lt;/span&gt; in there).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And when I entered the sitting room somehow all my family were there sitting on the sofa, huddled together in front of TV, even though it was well past midnight (I didn't check the clock but it was probably around 2 in the morning). Also there were usually no programs on TV around that time of the night but they were showing some news (this part is also vague) on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's more, there was no sound coming from the TV...&lt;br /&gt;And every single window was open wide leaving the room as freezing as the outside.&lt;br /&gt;Obviously something strange was going on. I went cold all over.&lt;br /&gt;"What the hell are you all doing?? What's got into your heads??" Trembling, I yelled at them.&lt;br /&gt;Then my little brother replied:'But.....ah....(the voice was too quiet to make out)' and he started crying. When my parents saw that they shut all the windows and turned off the TV, all the while not speaking a single word and showing no emotion on their faces; and they gestured to my little brother, who was still crying, like they wanted him to go to bed, and they all went back to their bedrooms.&lt;br /&gt;Witnessing such a creepy incident on the very first day of the new year disturbed me, and I no longer felt like sleeping. I stayed up until morning reading a comic book in my room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the morning I asked my parents what they were doing in the middle of the night and they both looked at me like: "what the hell are you talking about??" There was a huge difference between the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;disbelieving&lt;/span&gt; faces I saw then and the emotionless faces I saw the night before that I became a bit panicky thinking: "was that ghost thing that I saw last night??"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I knew my friends wouldn't believe me if I told them and, as I had just been dumped by my girlfriend in the previous month, I concluded that I saw &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;hallucinations&lt;/span&gt; due to stress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some days later I again woke up during the night because of a nightmare. This time I sort of remembered what had happened in the dream; it was about getting hit on the back of my head. Strangely even after I woke up my head still hurt. And somehow I was thinking nonsense like: "I will be safe in the convenience store..."&lt;br /&gt;I also got obsessed with the thought "I've been attacked by a ghost," and in panic ran to the sitting room but no one was there. The room smelt like something had been burning in it, maybe because we'd had some meat for supper. And remembering the strange incident that happened in the room on the new year's day I ended up spending a sleepless night yet again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then around the beginning of February my body started to itch all over.&lt;br /&gt;I thought at first I just had a dry skin condition, but I felt a strange burning sensation especially around my back and head, and I kept scratching at these places. It seemed to only get worse and I went to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;dermatologist&lt;/span&gt; and got some ointment. I was going to rub it on after bath when my brother said, "can I do it for you?" I showed my back to him but suddenly he hit me with his palm really hard in the middle of my back. It hurt so much that I shouted angrily at him, saying, 'bugger off!!'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My little brother always cried when I shouted at him, so very soon his eyes became watery. Just when I thought, "oh.. he's gonna cry, he's gonna cry," tears started streaming down his cheeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then strangely his face sort of began to lose its colour and in the end he was crying but without any expression on his face...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was so creepy and when I looked at my parents they too were crying without expression. Now I was totally lost... When I looked at them closely they seemed like they were trying to say something to me but I couldn't understand what. '&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Ahh&lt;/span&gt;.......&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;ee&lt;/span&gt;,' was about all I could make out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just then everything around me turned red and gradually it faded into sepia colour, and I felt my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;consciousness&lt;/span&gt; leaving me. That was what I thought but the next moment I found myself transported to a completely different place. But the place, however, was familiar to me, and after some hard thinking I recognized it as my cousin's house.&lt;br /&gt;My uncle was looking down at me with a worried face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ha..? How did I get here??" I didn't know what was going on. Soon people started coming into the room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made a guess that up until then everything had been a dream but I didn't understand why I was in my uncle's house or why my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;grandparents&lt;/span&gt; were there, or why I was bandaged everywhere. I began to panic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Maybe we shouldn't tell him anything because he doesn't remember what happened,' I heard my granddad say. But my uncle replied, ' But we must tell him. The offender hasn't been caught, and the police is going to come and ask questions.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then my uncle told me everything. Someone set fire on my house on the 1st January and the house got completely burnt down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I survived by pure chance because I was in a convenience store at the time when the house was set on fire. But it seemed I encountered the arsonist after all and I was attacked with a kind of bat and got hit on the back of my head and my back, and on many other places on my body, which resulted in loss of memory. After the attack I was immediately admitted to hospital and for sometime my life hanged in balance. When I got better I was moved to my uncle's house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now it was already March. For the last two months I suffered amnesia and had been undergoing &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;rehabilitation&lt;/span&gt;, and it seemed only now I had fully recovered my memories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cried and cried: because I lost all the important things in my life, and I had spent the whole two months not knowing it. My &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;grandparents&lt;/span&gt; were looking at me with pained expression. My uncle just looked away, but my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;grandparents&lt;/span&gt; finally began to cry as well, and we just kept crying together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My body was covered with bruises, I was bandaged like a mummy, and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;everytime&lt;/span&gt; I bent my limbs a stinging pain went through me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The windows which were somehow wide open on a cold winter night; my family huddled together on the sofa with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;expressionless&lt;/span&gt; faces; the nightmare in which I was hit by a strange man; everything around me turning red - all things now fitted together like pieces in a jigsaw puzzle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The arsonist hasn't been found. And when they took my bandage off, there was one place on my bruised back which was left &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;unscarred&lt;/span&gt;, and it was in a shape of a small hand.&lt;br /&gt;It has been five years since the incident &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;occurred&lt;/span&gt; and as my bruises began to fade, so did the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;hand print&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry this story was too long and badly written. The memories of the incident will stay with me forever. The story itself may not be scary but I think the fact that the arsonist is still at large is very scary, at least for me.&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for reading my story.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-8119951908804556801?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/8119951908804556801/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=8119951908804556801&amp;isPopup=true' title='25 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/8119951908804556801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/8119951908804556801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2009/04/truth-about-my-familys-odd-behaviour.html' title='The Truth about My Family&apos;s Odd Behaviour'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>25</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-4986417432454674658</id><published>2009-03-30T20:53:00.008+09:00</published><updated>2009-03-30T21:12:11.129+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Music'/><title type='text'>Paranoia Agent Opening</title><content type='html'>The weird and disconcerting opening of the Japanese &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;anime&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; "&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paranoia_Agent"&gt;Paranoia Agent&lt;/a&gt;."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/7-xgQKunqT0&amp;amp;hl=ja&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0x006699&amp;amp;color2=0x54abd6"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/7-xgQKunqT0&amp;hl=ja&amp;fs=1&amp;color1=0x006699&amp;color2=0x54abd6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://siustoreroom.blogspot.com/2009/03/paranoia-agent-opening-subtitled.html"&gt;CLICK HERE for the same opening with subtitled lyrics. &lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-4986417432454674658?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/4986417432454674658/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=4986417432454674658&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/4986417432454674658'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/4986417432454674658'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2009/03/paranoia-agent-opening.html' title='Paranoia Agent Opening'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-5969194407496765688</id><published>2009-03-29T16:37:00.010+09:00</published><updated>2009-06-05T11:13:42.526+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='M*ffy'/><title type='text'>Miffy at Mealtime</title><content type='html'>I have always wondered how &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Miffy&lt;/span&gt; uses her "x" mouth when she eats.&lt;br /&gt;Now I know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Miffy's&lt;/span&gt; Mouth&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Suu8W2ilRHk&amp;amp;hl=ja&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0xcc2550&amp;amp;color2=0xe87a9f"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Suu8W2ilRHk&amp;hl=ja&amp;fs=1&amp;color1=0xcc2550&amp;color2=0xe87a9f" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Miffy&lt;/span&gt; eats her dinner&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://siustoreroom.blogspot.com/2009/03/miffy-eats-his-dinner.html"&gt;CLICK THIS LINK to see how she eats her dinner!!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-5969194407496765688?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/5969194407496765688/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=5969194407496765688&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/5969194407496765688'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/5969194407496765688'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2009/03/miffy-at-mealtime.html' title='Miffy at Mealtime'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-4699593182945000717</id><published>2009-03-28T15:11:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2009-03-28T15:12:12.605+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tarako Kewpie'/><title type='text'>Tarako Kewpie Goodies</title><content type='html'>1.Tarako Kewpie Doll&lt;br /&gt;This easy-to-carry size Tarako Kewpie is perfect for people on the go. Take it out of your suitcase at break and give it a little cuddle to relieve work tress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/Scy3bvB6ZPI/AAAAAAAAAeg/813xdnJM5xc/s1600-h/k_handy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317826947126551794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/Scy3bvB6ZPI/AAAAAAAAAeg/813xdnJM5xc/s400/k_handy.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Tarako Kewpie Pillow&lt;br /&gt;After a long day at work you just want to dive into your bed with a giant Tarako Kewpie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/ScozD_MmASI/AAAAAAAAAeQ/K93opl4aCV4/s1600-h/k1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317118453661172002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/ScozD_MmASI/AAAAAAAAAeQ/K93opl4aCV4/s400/k1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Tarako Kewpie Curtain&lt;br /&gt;A gorgeous curtain to hang in a doorway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317119603712485346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/Sco0G7eMZ-I/AAAAAAAAAeY/Gc8A9grgKiQ/s400/bi-zukarten.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.Tarako Kewpie Matryoshka&lt;br /&gt;Would look great on your mantelpiece.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/Scy83AB5uBI/AAAAAAAAAfA/WAbFWgHPG4A/s1600-h/m_tarako.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317832913104517138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/Scy83AB5uBI/AAAAAAAAAfA/WAbFWgHPG4A/s400/m_tarako.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Tarako Kewpie MP3 Player&lt;br /&gt;For those who want to listen to music in style.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/Scy9croCIUI/AAAAAAAAAfI/ojiD4gWl13s/s1600-h/mp3tara.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317833560462336322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/Scy9croCIUI/AAAAAAAAAfI/ojiD4gWl13s/s400/mp3tara.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/Scy9o4ZGrsI/AAAAAAAAAfQ/k3X0D-LCJxo/s1600-h/t_mp3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317833770047811266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/Scy9o4ZGrsI/AAAAAAAAAfQ/k3X0D-LCJxo/s400/t_mp3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Tarako Kewpie Lego Bricks&lt;br /&gt;Stimulate your child's creativity with Tarako Kewpie Lego Bricks!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/Scy-mZZuJYI/AAAAAAAAAfY/UeKIfWh6mAk/s1600-h/lego_tarako.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317834826880787842" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/Scy-mZZuJYI/AAAAAAAAAfY/UeKIfWh6mAk/s400/lego_tarako.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More Tarako Kewpie Goodies coming soon (maybe tomorrow)!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-4699593182945000717?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/4699593182945000717/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=4699593182945000717&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/4699593182945000717'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/4699593182945000717'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2009/03/tarako-kewpie-goodies.html' title='Tarako Kewpie Goodies'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/Scy3bvB6ZPI/AAAAAAAAAeg/813xdnJM5xc/s72-c/k_handy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-9201092703059689579</id><published>2009-03-25T17:47:00.003+09:00</published><updated>2009-04-01T22:18:29.619+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Inexplicable#2'/><title type='text'>A Hanged Body</title><content type='html'>While on a mountain rumoured to be haunted I caught a glimpse of something shaped like a human body floating in the bushes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;A ghost!?&lt;/em&gt; I thought, and fearfully went closer to it to make certain of what I was seeing; it turned out to be not a ghost but a body of a man who had hanged himself.&lt;br /&gt;I felt sorry for the unfortunate man and thought I couldn't just leave him as he was and I could at least take his body off the rope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was then I heard something drop with a thud. I was startled but it seemed his shoe just fell off.&lt;br /&gt;I thought anyway I had to do this and tried to reach the rope but it was difficult. I then went round to the front of his body to work at the knot. I tried to undo it again and again but without success.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A while later I heard something drop with a thud again. I thought that was strange and looked down but there was nothing on the ground and when I looked at the body it was still wearing shoes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;creeped&lt;/span&gt; me out, and I decided to leave it and started walking away. But then I realized something; I got round to the front of the body so many times but I couldn't remember the man's face at all, and I always saw only his back.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-9201092703059689579?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/9201092703059689579/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=9201092703059689579&amp;isPopup=true' title='27 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/9201092703059689579'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/9201092703059689579'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2009/03/hanged-body.html' title='A Hanged Body'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>27</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-4355873847798785202</id><published>2009-03-24T17:33:00.002+09:00</published><updated>2009-03-24T17:51:58.020+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Movie'/><title type='text'>Tarako Kewpie In Tokyo</title><content type='html'>I'm still in the process of translating new stories...&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile you can watch Tarako Kewpies and amuse yourselves!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Shibuya, 2006&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/J1PCQ9-iC3k&amp;amp;hl=ja&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0xcc2550&amp;amp;color2=0xe87a9f"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/J1PCQ9-iC3k&amp;hl=ja&amp;fs=1&amp;color1=0xcc2550&amp;color2=0xe87a9f" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/oMezvtgrjvs&amp;amp;hl=ja&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0xcc2550&amp;amp;color2=0xe87a9f"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/oMezvtgrjvs&amp;hl=ja&amp;fs=1&amp;color1=0xcc2550&amp;color2=0xe87a9f" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-4355873847798785202?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/4355873847798785202/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=4355873847798785202&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/4355873847798785202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/4355873847798785202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2009/03/tarako-kewpie-in-tokyo.html' title='Tarako Kewpie In Tokyo'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-683000026507435983</id><published>2009-03-21T18:28:00.004+09:00</published><updated>2010-11-16T20:57:24.329+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tarako Kewpie'/><title type='text'>Tarako Kewpie Pasta Sauce</title><content type='html'>The (in)famous TV commercials for Tarako Kewpie Pasta Sauce!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before watching the videos you might like to read the&lt;a href="http://siustoreroom.blogspot.com/2009/03/origin-of-tarako-kewpie.html"&gt; Origin of Tarako Kewpie&lt;/a&gt;, an article I wrote to answer the question you are all dying to ask: "&lt;em&gt;what in the name of god is Tarako Kewpie&lt;/em&gt;?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After you have watched all these videos, I guarantee that you will be hooked on Tarako Kewpie, just like me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Scene 1: Tarako Kewpies walking on streets&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/8Eg29fMPeGc&amp;amp;hl=ja&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0xcc2550&amp;amp;color2=0xe87a9f"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/8Eg29fMPeGc&amp;hl=ja&amp;fs=1&amp;color1=0xcc2550&amp;color2=0xe87a9f" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The nightmare has only started..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Scene 2: Tarako Kewpie invades a dining room&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/6BjWN1qqvOM&amp;amp;hl=ja&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0xcc2550&amp;amp;color2=0xe87a9f"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/6BjWN1qqvOM&amp;hl=ja&amp;fs=1&amp;color1=0xcc2550&amp;color2=0xe87a9f" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Scene 3: Tarako Kewpie invades a dining room yet again&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/SaBpzhYw1bw&amp;amp;hl=ja&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0xcc2550&amp;amp;color2=0xe87a9f"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/SaBpzhYw1bw&amp;hl=ja&amp;fs=1&amp;color1=0xcc2550&amp;color2=0xe87a9f" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, at least they knock.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Scene 4: Tarako Kewpie on the table&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/2bjFOI-hb3Y?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=ja_JP&amp;amp;color1=0xcc2550&amp;amp;color2=0xe87a9f"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/2bjFOI-hb3Y?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=ja_JP&amp;amp;color1=0xcc2550&amp;amp;color2=0xe87a9f" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somebody should teach them the table manners.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Scene 5: Attack of the Clone Tarako Kewpies&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/nAHk9ngd2aM&amp;amp;hl=ja&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0xcc2550&amp;amp;color2=0xe87a9f"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/nAHk9ngd2aM&amp;hl=ja&amp;fs=1&amp;color1=0xcc2550&amp;color2=0xe87a9f" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We knew it! They are not creatures of Earth!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Scene 6: The Tarako Kewpie Psychedelia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/5FDX8XcYrb8?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=ja_JP&amp;amp;color1=0xcc2550&amp;amp;color2=0xe87a9f"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/5FDX8XcYrb8?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=ja_JP&amp;amp;color1=0xcc2550&amp;amp;color2=0xe87a9f" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They have now reached the final stage of their evolution.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;MORE TARAKO KEWPIES COMING SOON!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-683000026507435983?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/683000026507435983/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=683000026507435983&amp;isPopup=true' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/683000026507435983'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/683000026507435983'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2009/03/tarako-kewpie-pasta-sauce.html' title='Tarako Kewpie Pasta Sauce'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-145790084020835737</id><published>2009-03-20T15:47:00.003+09:00</published><updated>2010-11-29T18:24:01.366+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Inexplicable#2'/><title type='text'>The Worrying Nurses</title><content type='html'>My friend had a motorbike accident and he was&amp;nbsp;in a hospital until just recently.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The hospital is large, quite old but known for having cutting-edge equipment, and we have never heard any bad rumours about it. My friend could just be making the whole thing up &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;lol&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friend damaged his collarbone in the accident but it was only a light scar (though he needed an operation) and he was told he would be out and about within a week.&lt;br /&gt;This happened apparently two days before he was discharged.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you have ever stayed in hospital you know how early they turn the lights off at night. Each bed, however, is usually equipped with a lamp that gives off enough light for reading. My friend was reading a comic book under such a lamp when he felt the call of nature (not pee, but the other one). He got up from the bed, put his feet in slippers, and went out into the corridor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A corridor at night in hospital sounds spooky, but in reality (he said) it was not that bad, because there was still some light, and also &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;becuase&lt;/span&gt; he was a bit hyper thinking he would be out of this place in two days. It was very quiet, but that was all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friend reached the lavatory and went into one of the cubicles.&lt;br /&gt;After he had finished his business, he kept on reading the comic book in the cubicle (without wiping down there &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;lol&lt;/span&gt;) when he heard a patter of footsteps going down the corridor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just as he thought '&lt;em&gt;someone is coming here&lt;/em&gt;,' the footsteps stopped in front of the lavatory.&lt;br /&gt;And then;&lt;br /&gt;'Are you &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;alriiight&lt;/span&gt;?'a nurse asked him.&lt;br /&gt;So my friend replied, 'I'm alright, thank you.'&lt;br /&gt;He heard the nurse leave, the patter of footsteps gradually fading into distance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friend went back to reading the comic book . About five minutes had passed when he again heard the same footsteps, which again stopped in front of the lavatory and a nurse's voice said,&lt;br /&gt;'You are taking a long time. Are you &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;reeeally&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;alriiight&lt;/span&gt;?'&lt;br /&gt;My friend replied, 'Oh, I'm really fine. I'm gonna finish soon.'&lt;br /&gt;The nurse said, '&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;OKaaay&lt;/span&gt;.'&lt;br /&gt;He was quite impressed about the nurse's caring attitude.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He again went back to reading. A while later, this time from inside the lavatory, he heard a voice saying,&lt;br /&gt;'&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Uhhhm&lt;/span&gt;..Are you really alright?'&lt;br /&gt;He got a fright because he didn't hear any footsteps this time and didn't expect her to come inside the lavatory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And he was getting rather annoyed by the constant questioning so he said rather harshly, 'I'm REALLY fine! And if you didn't already know, this place is men's toilet!'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No reply came from the nurse and a dead silence followed.&lt;br /&gt;He thought 'oops maybe that was too harsh,' and opened his mouth to apologize when the door went &lt;em&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Baaang&lt;/span&gt;!!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friend cried out and looked up.&lt;br /&gt;And in the gap between the door and the ceiling there was a woman looking down at him who said,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Arrre&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;youuu&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;reeaally&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;alriiiighht&lt;/span&gt;?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friend, terrified and desperate to run away, banged the door open, but the nurse was not there anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He ran back to his room but couldn't sleep the whole night.&lt;br /&gt;But he was OK the next day and safely got out of the hospital.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He also told me that when he thought about it later, each voice seemed to be different from the last. And the final voice sounded the deepest of all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-145790084020835737?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/145790084020835737/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=145790084020835737&amp;isPopup=true' title='21 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/145790084020835737'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/145790084020835737'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2009/03/worrying-nurses.html' title='The Worrying Nurses'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>21</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-2968253118356076713</id><published>2009-03-18T14:40:00.003+09:00</published><updated>2009-03-18T15:13:50.614+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Movie#2'/><title type='text'>Exploring Ruins</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/y-PUiqzfi0U&amp;amp;hl=ja&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0x5d1719&amp;amp;color2=0xcd311b"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/y-PUiqzfi0U&amp;hl=ja&amp;fs=1&amp;color1=0x5d1719&amp;color2=0xcd311b" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I so want to go exploring abandoned buildings. But I've got nobody to go with :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wrote some notes about this video below in black. Drag your mouse over them to read. I suggest you read them after you watched the video because they might spoil your pleasure!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;ENJOY!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;(&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Reddish strips of paper you saw pasted on the walls and ceilings (like at 5:14) are called &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/O-fuda"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;ofuda&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;, a talisman issued by Shinto shrine. It's used to protect people from harm and disease, or used to seal in evil spirit. My guess is whoever used ofuda in this house was trying to seal in something??&lt;br /&gt;The little pouch which was picked up at 7:34 is an &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Omamori"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;omamori,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt; a Shinto amulet. People carry them to ward off bad luck and attract good luck. It's like a portable ofuda.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The doll at the end appears to be an &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://userdisk.webry.biglobe.ne.jp/011/136/17/N000/000/001/120912827838116302116.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Ichimatsu doll&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;, a creepy traditional Japanese doll that originates in Kyoto.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-2968253118356076713?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/2968253118356076713/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=2968253118356076713&amp;isPopup=true' title='26 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/2968253118356076713'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/2968253118356076713'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2009/03/exploring-ruins.html' title='Exploring Ruins'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>26</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-2047010126831683740</id><published>2009-03-17T12:11:00.007+09:00</published><updated>2009-03-18T00:09:25.396+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Movie#2'/><title type='text'>CHAINSAW MAID</title><content type='html'>From the creator of &lt;a href="http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2008/09/clay-animation-bloody-date.html"&gt;Bloody Date &lt;/a&gt;and &lt;a href="http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2008/09/bloody-night-silent-movie-clay.html"&gt;Bloody Night&lt;/a&gt; comes&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt; CHAINSAW MAID!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;The caption by the creator runs:&lt;br /&gt;THEY are coming for your FLESH and BLOOD! Now the last hope of the family rests on a sexy faithful MAID!&lt;br /&gt;The most brutal &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;claymation&lt;/span&gt; you've ever seen!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;WARNING!!! THIS VIDEO CONTAINS IMAGES OF BLOOD AND VIOLENCE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/6d-tNXxTRBA&amp;amp;hl=ja&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0x234900&amp;amp;color2=0x4e9e00"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/6d-tNXxTRBA&amp;hl=ja&amp;fs=1&amp;color1=0x234900&amp;color2=0x4e9e00" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I watched this before lunch and it saved me from eating too much.&lt;br /&gt;The creator's site&lt;a href="http://www.eonet.ne.jp/~y-nagao/"&gt; TN Theatre&lt;/a&gt; (Japanese)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-2047010126831683740?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/2047010126831683740/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=2047010126831683740&amp;isPopup=true' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/2047010126831683740'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/2047010126831683740'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2009/03/chainsaw-maide.html' title='CHAINSAW MAID'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-3275334255951223646</id><published>2009-03-17T12:10:00.004+09:00</published><updated>2010-10-16T22:11:05.738+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='My Master Series'/><title type='text'>My Master Series: Episode 3 "Noodles"</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size: 85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;Reminder:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;"I" in this story is not &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Saya&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 85%;"&gt;For information about this series read &lt;a href="http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2009/02/my-master-series-episode-one-lock.html"&gt;episode 1&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is not a ghost story, but I must set it down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My master in the Way of Occult had suddenly stopped coming to the club. Master's classmate told me that he hadn't been seen in the classes either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That got me worried and I went to his apartment. As usual the front door had been left unlocked, and so after a few knocks on the door I went in, and found inside the haggard master lying alone on the mattress.&lt;br /&gt;I asked him what was the matter, and he said,&lt;br /&gt;"No appetite. Had only noodles for the whole week."&lt;br /&gt;So &lt;em&gt;that&lt;/em&gt; explained it, I thought, looking at his pale face.&lt;br /&gt;"Haven't you got anything else to eat? You could die, " I said and searched the room, but found nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Are you suffering from the summer heat?" I asked him, but there was no answer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Well, I don't want to know anyway&lt;/em&gt;, I thought, and coldly left him.&lt;br /&gt;I was in awe of my master, but he could sometimes be surprisingly childish, and for that reason there was a part of me that belittled him. At the time we were already speaking on equal terms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I paid a visit to him again two days later, he was still lying on the mattress in the exactly same manner as before.&lt;br /&gt;It seemed he had never put one foot outside his room and stayed under the duvet all day.&lt;br /&gt;"Noodles won't keep you alive for long," just as I said that to him, my master suddenly retched and, clutching at his chest, rushed to the toilet.&lt;br /&gt;As I rubbed his back for him, he started to vomit. I watched him and thought something weird like, "you could eat noodles all day but your vomit still turns out brown."&lt;br /&gt;Just then a sudden realization came over me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wait a minute...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I searched the room again but there was nothing there.&lt;em&gt; Not &lt;/em&gt;even noodles.&lt;br /&gt;"What on earth are you eating?" I asked him more urgently. But he said nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;He is possessed&lt;/em&gt;, a suspicion flashed across my mind. But I couldn't do anything for him then.&lt;br /&gt;I later forced him to go the hospital with me where he was immediately admitted for malnutrition.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was put on a drip and after four days he got well and was duly discharged. But he never told me what exactly he was eating during the time he shut himself away in his room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something, however, had changed in him. Whereas he was rather arrogant and laddish before, he had now become more meek and babyish in comparison. That same summer we would visit many haunted places, but the change had made him unreliable, and we would often face unnecessary dangers.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-3275334255951223646?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/3275334255951223646/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=3275334255951223646&amp;isPopup=true' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/3275334255951223646'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/3275334255951223646'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2009/03/my-master-series-episode-3-noodles.html' title='My Master Series: Episode 3 &quot;Noodles&quot;'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-5192331193348695696</id><published>2009-03-16T10:38:00.001+09:00</published><updated>2009-03-16T10:41:02.639+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='I&apos;m Lovin&apos; It'/><title type='text'>Ronald the Betrayer</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/EZHYOLyGGuI&amp;amp;hl=ja&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0x234900&amp;amp;color2=0x4e9e00"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/EZHYOLyGGuI&amp;hl=ja&amp;fs=1&amp;color1=0x234900&amp;color2=0x4e9e00" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got to know the existence of this video thanks to my anonymous reader!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-5192331193348695696?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/5192331193348695696/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=5192331193348695696&amp;isPopup=true' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/5192331193348695696'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/5192331193348695696'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2009/03/ronald-betrayer.html' title='Ronald the Betrayer'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-6960847356509519903</id><published>2009-03-15T09:05:00.002+09:00</published><updated>2010-05-01T16:53:05.865+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Inexplicable#2'/><title type='text'>The Hearse</title><content type='html'>There was a young woman called K who lived with her parents and grandmother. The grandmother used to be a kind lady, but since she had become bedridden a few years&amp;nbsp;back her personality changed completely, and she began to make constant complaints and snide remarks to K's mother who looked after her. Her grandmother would often say, "I know you are all hoping I die soon." Her family got fed up listening to these words that finally they began to really hope that the grandmother would die soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gradually the family began to care for the grandmother less and less, and the quality of food got worse, and as a result she became rapidly weaker as days went by. Now she couldn't move at all but became only a thing that breathed in the bed. It was obvious to anyone that she didn't have long to live.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now K's room was on the second floor (&lt;span style="font-size: 85%;"&gt;i.e. the first floor in UK&lt;/span&gt;) and one night when she was sleeping in there she heard a car horn suddenly blast outside. K tried to ignore it but a moment later it blasted again. The horn kept sounding that she finally gave up trying to sleep and angrily drew the curtain back to take a look outside, wondering who could be doing something so antisocial at this time of night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What she saw made her shudder. There was a hearse parked in front of her house. She couldn't be sure whether it had people in it or not, and the engine didn't seem to be running. It was very still.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;K got scared, ran back to bed and pulled the duvet over her head. She kept trembling but nothing more happened afterwards and it was very quiet throughout the rest of the night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the morning came K asked her parents whether they heard the car horn last night. They said no. It was hard to believe that the sound as loud as it was could go unnoticed, but they didn't look like they were lying, nor was there any reason that they should lie. She wondered then if the hearse came for her grandmother, which was the only possible explanation left. Her grandmother was, however, still "fine."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That night there was another visit from the hearse, and the night after that as well. K tried to ignore it at first but for some strange reason the horn didn't stop blasting unless K looked at the hearse from her bedroom window. Night after night the same thing happened that K was becoming very nervous from fear and dread.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the seventh night since all this started, K's parents had to go out for the day. K wanted to go with them but someone had to stay in for the grandmother. Also because they knew that K had been mentally unstable they half forced her to stay at home and went out by themselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In an attempt to force fear out of her mind, K did things like watching comedy programmes on TV as much as possible. She was afraid to go near her grandmother's room and didn't even take lunch to her although it was her task to do so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her parents had said they would be home in the late afternoon but the night came and there was still no sign of them coming back. Soon it was past midnight, and the time when the hearse usually appeared was coming nearer and nearer. But nothing was to be heard from her parents, not even one quick phone call.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then she heard the familiar sound of the horn outside. K was downstairs at the time but she didn't dare to see it up close and went upstairs to see it from her bedroom as usual.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But what she saw from the window wasn't the usual scene.&lt;br /&gt;From inside the hearse, which had normally parked still, some men in black suits got out, and they were now passing through the gate. K was totally freaked out.&lt;br /&gt;Soon she heard the doorbell ring downstairs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The doorbell kept ringing for a while, until it was replaced by light knockings that soon became louder and more urgent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang!!!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;K felt she was going to die from sheer terror. A thought came into her head that maybe she had forgotten to lock the front door. The more she thought the more she became sure that she had forgotten to lock it.&lt;br /&gt;K jumped up and ran downstairs at full speed.&lt;br /&gt;But seconds before she could reach the front door, the phone at the bottom of the stairs started ringing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The banging at the door still continued. K couldn't move; all she wanted to do was press her hands to her ears and scream. But instead she managed to grab the handset.&lt;br /&gt;"Hello?Hello?Hello?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hello. Is this Mr._'s number?"&lt;br /&gt;It was a surprisingly soft voice of a man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"This is the police. I want you to stay calm and listen. A while ago Mr and Mrs_ have met a tragic accident and passed away. I gather you are their daughter, aren't you? Hello? Hello....?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;K was too stunned to say or do anything. Strangely, the persistent banging had suddenly come to stop.&lt;br /&gt;K started thinking; maybe the hearse had come to take her parents away? Not her grandmother?&lt;br /&gt;Actually, was her grandmother OK?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was then that K felt someone tap on her shoulder.&lt;br /&gt;K turned around, and her grandmother, who was thought unable to move on her own, was standing right behind her.&lt;br /&gt;And K's grandmother smiled to her and said,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You are coming too."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-6960847356509519903?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/6960847356509519903/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=6960847356509519903&amp;isPopup=true' title='18 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/6960847356509519903'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/6960847356509519903'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2009/03/hearse.html' title='The Hearse'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>18</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-9132677943162365984</id><published>2009-03-14T17:32:00.001+09:00</published><updated>2009-03-14T17:34:27.787+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dark Tales of Japan'/><title type='text'>Dark Tales of Japan - Sukima (Crevices)</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/CR-HmtOMjjE&amp;amp;hl=ja&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0x234900&amp;amp;color2=0x4e9e00"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/CR-HmtOMjjE&amp;hl=ja&amp;fs=1&amp;color1=0x234900&amp;color2=0x4e9e00" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beware of crevices!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-9132677943162365984?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/9132677943162365984/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=9132677943162365984&amp;isPopup=true' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/9132677943162365984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/9132677943162365984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2009/03/dark-tales-of-japan-sukima-crevices.html' title='Dark Tales of Japan - Sukima (Crevices)'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-3620179897523443984</id><published>2009-03-14T16:53:00.002+09:00</published><updated>2009-03-14T16:58:32.141+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='I&apos;m Lovin&apos; It'/><title type='text'>A Staring Contest With Ronald</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/W-v8mweABuQ&amp;amp;hl=ja&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0x234900&amp;amp;color2=0x4e9e00"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/W-v8mweABuQ&amp;hl=ja&amp;fs=1&amp;color1=0x234900&amp;color2=0x4e9e00" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Set it full screen (and turn off the light in your room if possible )before pressing the play button:D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't worry it's not a screamer!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-3620179897523443984?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/3620179897523443984/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=3620179897523443984&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/3620179897523443984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/3620179897523443984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2009/03/staring-contest-with-ronald.html' title='A Staring Contest With Ronald'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-5607698537683187086</id><published>2009-03-12T22:04:00.004+09:00</published><updated>2010-10-27T14:26:40.463+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Inexplicable#2'/><title type='text'>The Fortune-Teller</title><content type='html'>That day I had to work until late and ended up catching the last train home.&lt;br /&gt;On arriving at my local station I immediately started walking home, when I saw a few people gathering in a corner of the square in front of the station. Curious, I took a closer look to see what was going on, and found there a desk with a paper hanging from it that said 'Fortune-Telling,' and a chair on which an old woman sat; both the desk and the chair looked like the type usually seen in school class rooms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had never expected to see a fortune-teller at such a lonely country station like this, and was still more surprised to see some customers there. I went closer.&lt;br /&gt;Those standing around the desk included one businessman and two students. On the desk stood one candle.&lt;br /&gt;The person who was being seen by the fortune-teller was an attractive woman in her forties.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tried talking to the people standing about.&lt;br /&gt;Me:"Is she a good fortune-teller? I use this station everyday but I've never seen her before."&lt;br /&gt;Businessman: "........"&lt;br /&gt;Students: "........"&lt;br /&gt;None of them replied.&lt;br /&gt;The students wore the uniform from S_ High, a local school which I was familiar with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;What's wrong with them? So mean! &lt;/em&gt;I got a bit cross, but I decided to wait for a while.&lt;br /&gt;I waited for about fifteen minutes but still the first woman hadn't finished her turn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;She sure is taking a log time. What are they doing?&lt;/em&gt; I wondered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was nothing there to prevent me from eavesdropping, and so I listened.&lt;br /&gt;Woman: "Is that inevitable?"&lt;br /&gt;Fortune-teller: "Yes. That is the fate."&lt;br /&gt;Woman: "Is that inevitable?"&lt;br /&gt;Fortune-teller: "Yes. That is the fate."&lt;br /&gt;They kept repeating the same words in whispers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something was wrong with them, I thought. Creepy. I decided to go home and turned around; but the businessman and the students who had been standing around me only a second before had disappeared. Before I had time to be surprised, the lights from the station switched off and it got all dark around me.&lt;br /&gt;I turned to the fortune-teller and the woman again, and I was further confused when I found they too had disappeared, along with the chair and the desk.&lt;br /&gt;I ran back home, wanting to get as far away from the place as possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some days had passed before I read an article on the local newspaper that a family with two children died in a car crush on a railroad crossing near the same station. It was a small article and there were only their names and hints about where they lived, but the children were students of S_ High school.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-5607698537683187086?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/5607698537683187086/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=5607698537683187086&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/5607698537683187086'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/5607698537683187086'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2009/03/fortune-teller.html' title='The Fortune-Teller'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-2831474583525992059</id><published>2009-03-11T15:51:00.005+09:00</published><updated>2009-05-17T16:27:15.462+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dark Tales of Japan'/><title type='text'>The Spider Woman</title><content type='html'>While our American friends have Spiderman, we Japanese have Spiderwoman.&lt;br /&gt;(Note:there is one untranslated line in this video (appears once in the scene at restaurant and later in part 3) that says "during the day the spiderwoman looks like an ordinary human but when it gets dark - well you can guess from the picture what happens next)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/MBSY2wbV5FM&amp;amp;hl=ja&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0x234900&amp;amp;color2=0x4e9e00"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/MBSY2wbV5FM&amp;hl=ja&amp;fs=1&amp;color1=0x234900&amp;color2=0x4e9e00" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/vZiHgaWCSHc&amp;amp;hl=ja&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0x234900&amp;amp;color2=0x4e9e00"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/vZiHgaWCSHc&amp;hl=ja&amp;fs=1&amp;color1=0x234900&amp;color2=0x4e9e00" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/elXRQtSiggA&amp;amp;hl=ja&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0x234900&amp;amp;color2=0x4e9e00"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/elXRQtSiggA&amp;hl=ja&amp;fs=1&amp;color1=0x234900&amp;color2=0x4e9e00" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-2831474583525992059?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/2831474583525992059/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=2831474583525992059&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/2831474583525992059'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/2831474583525992059'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2009/03/spider-woman.html' title='The Spider Woman'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-7706420862943113863</id><published>2009-03-11T15:04:00.004+09:00</published><updated>2009-03-11T15:11:40.272+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Words from Saya'/><title type='text'>Notice!</title><content type='html'>I updated two old posts,&lt;a href="http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2007/09/car-accident.html"&gt; A Car Accident &lt;/a&gt;and &lt;a href="http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2007/09/face-that-shouldnt-be-there.html"&gt;A Face That Shouldn't be There&lt;/a&gt;, today. The links for these videos have been dead but I manage to find them again on youtube.&lt;br /&gt;If you find any other dead links on this site please kindly let me know.&lt;br /&gt;Thanks!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-7706420862943113863?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/7706420862943113863/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=7706420862943113863&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/7706420862943113863'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/7706420862943113863'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2009/03/notice.html' title='Notice!'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-5855983094005360941</id><published>2009-03-10T20:30:00.001+09:00</published><updated>2009-03-11T20:05:54.891+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Movie#3'/><title type='text'>A Short Art Film "KILL ME PLEASE"</title><content type='html'>A short art film by Toshiyuki Kimura. Mr. Kimura is apparently an artist who has been involved in making some horror films like "The Ring(1998).' (You can learn more about him &lt;a href="http://www.ganime.jp/kaii/index.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://members3.jcom.home.ne.jp/zizimomo/index.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; but both sites are in Japanese, unfortunately)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/cxyWw0T_CZk&amp;amp;hl=ja&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/cxyWw0T_CZk&amp;hl=ja&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;ABOUT THE NARRATION&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most words are unintelligible but from what I can pick up it is a quote from Japanese mythology. I can hear words Izanagi and Izanami, which are Japanese god and goddess, and the word "yomi,"which is an old word for underworld.&lt;br /&gt;The story of Izanagi and Izanami are similar to the story of Orpheus and Eurydice in Greek mythology. Izanagi, when his beloved wife Izanami dies, follows her to the underworld. Izanagi persuades Izanami to return to the world of living, and she agrees, but "When Izanagi looks prematurely at his wife, he beholds her monstrous and hellish state and she is shamed and enraged. She pursues him in order to kill him. She fails to do so, but promises to kill a thousand of his people every day. Izanagi retorts that a thousand and five hundred will be born every day(&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Izanagi"&gt;wikipedia&lt;/a&gt;)."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-5855983094005360941?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/5855983094005360941/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=5855983094005360941&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/5855983094005360941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/5855983094005360941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2009/03/short-art-film-kill-me-please.html' title='A Short Art Film &quot;KILL ME PLEASE&quot;'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-238050972712540039</id><published>2009-03-10T20:12:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2009-03-10T20:12:15.790+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Urban Legend'/><title type='text'>The Beckoning Hand</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;One high school had an old gymnasium where sometimes past six in the evening a single, beckoning hand was seen to appear from its window. One student saw this hand and innocently walked in the gymnasium. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Form the next day the student went missing and there were two hands &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;beckoning&lt;/span&gt; from the gymnasium's window.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-238050972712540039?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/238050972712540039/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=238050972712540039&amp;isPopup=true' title='46 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/238050972712540039'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/238050972712540039'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2009/03/beckoning-hand.html' title='The Beckoning Hand'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>46</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-624686515519362358</id><published>2009-03-07T11:24:00.002+09:00</published><updated>2010-10-19T20:49:40.868+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Inexplicable#2'/><title type='text'>What Appears On The TV</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size: 85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Disclaime&lt;/strong&gt;r - "I" in this story doesn't equal me, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Saya&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is not so scary but it's happening for real and I want to post it here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About a month ago when I turned on the TV, suddenly, in the middle of the screen and against the black background, a woman appeared, looking limp and wearing green clothes from top to bottom. I couldn't tell exactly but it was something like a green long-sleeved top and green trousers.&lt;br /&gt;The woman appeared only for a second and then it turned back to the normal TV screen, but when I turned on the TV the woman would appear three out of ten times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is this...? I thought and called the electrician up to have it checked, but when he came somehow the woman wouldn't appear at all, no matter how many times we tried; and the electrician got annoyed and left. It seems she only appears when I am alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you can expect I was scared and so tried things like keeping my eyes closed when turning on the TV and opening them after a few seconds, or going out of the room as soon as I turn on the TV, go to the toilet, and come back and then watch the screen, but somehow the woman would still be there. And about one second later, as if she just made sure I had seen her, she would disappear and it would return to the normal TV screen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From one month ago until now the probability of the woman appearing has been getting higher and higher and now she appears nine out of ten times. Now I hardly watch TV at night. I would appreciate it if someone could suggest a scientific explanation for this.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-624686515519362358?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/624686515519362358/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=624686515519362358&amp;isPopup=true' title='33 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/624686515519362358'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/624686515519362358'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2009/03/what-appears-on-tv.html' title='What Appears On The TV'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>33</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-8446741510042847741</id><published>2009-03-05T15:00:00.004+09:00</published><updated>2010-01-05T21:39:48.114+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='My Master Series'/><title type='text'>My Master Series: Episode 2 "Apprenticeship"</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;*&lt;/span&gt;See Episode 1 &lt;a href="http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2009/02/my-master-series-episode-one-lock.html"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;here&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It all started when I moved from a little provincial village to a large city to enter a university. For want of anything better to do I joined a club where I found someone extraordinary. At the time my interest in occult was at its height, due to having experienced sleep paralysis and other nasty things while studying for university entrance exam. I told him my stories, to which he commented, "you are good. Very good," showing obvious enthusiasm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was a postgraduate student majoring in Buddhist Arts. We hit it off immediately and on the very day I met him he took me for a drive at night. He said lets have some late-night snack and drove for a considerabe way, until finally we arrived at &lt;em&gt;Gusto &lt;/em&gt;(&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;a popular restaurant chain&lt;/span&gt;)on the outskirts of the city. He must have seen the letters "why here?" written all over my face and said, "We've come for ghost-spotting. My favourite place."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He couldn't be serious, I thought to myself.&lt;br /&gt;Coming to such a modern place as Gusto was unnerving enough to a country-bumpkin like me, but on top of that, ghost-spotting?&lt;br /&gt;"Look down when I tell you. If you are lucky you'll be able to see the legs at least."&lt;br /&gt;After hearing these words,it was impossible to taste anything in my mouth.&lt;br /&gt;I was just munching mechanically when suddenly a sharp ringing started in my ear... And cold sweat broke out all over my body. I froze.&lt;br /&gt;"Hey, look down. Now." He said.&lt;br /&gt;Quickly I did as he said, and stayed still - actually the truth was, I couldn't move an inch even if I had wanted to (&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;*&lt;/span&gt;).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Out of the right corner of my eye, just by the side of our table, I saw two white legs walk by, noiselessly and with such a smooth movement that they seemed to float.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A tapping on the shoulder brought me back to the reality.&lt;br /&gt;"Did you see them?"&lt;br /&gt;It was before the film "&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Ringu-Nanako-Matsushima/dp/B000088NQR"&gt;The Ring&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/em&gt;" was released,　but looking back it strongly reminded me of the scene where Takayama sees a woman's legs in the park.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I nodded, he continued;&lt;br /&gt;"That was the source of the rumour that in Gusto there is sometimes an extra pair of legs among waiters. Well for me, I can see not only the legs &lt;em&gt;but the whole thing&lt;/em&gt;. It's good for you that you can't see her face."&lt;br /&gt;What sort of a man is he? I thought.&lt;br /&gt;"Eat up quickly! She doesn't like me."&lt;br /&gt;I myself wasn't totally foreign to paranormal experiences, but this guy - I realised for the first time - was different.&lt;br /&gt;After leaving Gusto he took me on a tour to places such as a mountain path with strange fog and his favourite temples, and it was already morning when he finally released me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since then I had come to call him my master; and my apprenticeship would continue until his mysterious disappearance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Notes:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;*&lt;/span&gt;a ringing in one's ear and a temporary paralysis are said to be common symptons which appear when ghosts are near.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-8446741510042847741?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/8446741510042847741/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=8446741510042847741&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/8446741510042847741'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/8446741510042847741'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2009/03/my-master-series-episode-2.html' title='My Master Series: Episode 2 &quot;Apprenticeship&quot;'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-5877291618397629921</id><published>2009-03-02T13:26:00.006+09:00</published><updated>2010-10-27T14:03:17.455+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Apparition'/><title type='text'>Ooh, Is it Y?</title><content type='html'>This is a story I heard from my friend Y. Y's grandad died about two years ago. Y loved his granddad almost too much, and at the funeral he cried like a baby, not caring that other people were watching.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It happened on the seventh day after his granddad's death. On that day there was a storm warning for the area where Y lived and in spite of the murderous wind Y didn't have enough money on him to take a bus and had to walk home from school. He struggled all the way to keep himself from getting blown away and it was already past seven in the evening when he finally arrived home. He took out the key from the bag and opened the front door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As soon as he was inside, he saw the door to his own room, which was visible from the front door, open, as if to welcome him. He could see from the opening that the light and the TV had been switched on, as well as the halogen heater, which was the sole source of heat in his room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;It must be mum. She was considerate enough to have my room warmed up before I got home. &lt;/em&gt;Y thought happily, and he called out to her in a voice more cheerful than usual.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But strangely, no one answered Y. He looked around the front door and noticed there was only one pair of shoes that belonged to Y (&lt;span style="font-size: 85%;"&gt;note:Japanese people leave shoes at the front door before entering the house&lt;/span&gt;) and neither his mum's nor dad's shoes were there. Then Y remembered everyone in the family apart from Y was going to be home late, due to them attending a memorial service that was being held for his granddad. Who could be home then? Y was afraid that it might be a burglar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y tiptoed to his room, and fearfully peeked inside through the door. In the room there sat Y's dead granddad with his back to the door.&lt;br /&gt;The moment Y realized that it was his granddad, his fear vanished into thin air. Y was the sort who could never watch horror movies without having someone beside him, but although he knew he was seeing a ghost it was different when the ghost was his granddad's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tears rushed to his eyes out of love and gratitude that his granddad cared enough about him to visit him even after death.&lt;br /&gt;Granddad gave a few of his characteristic coughs and clumsily scratched at the back of his head.&lt;br /&gt;"Granddad." When Y called, grandad slowly stood up and turned around.&lt;br /&gt;And as he turned, as if by a trick, the outline of his body became slightly blurred.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Granddad's face looked as if covered in red ink.&lt;br /&gt;"Oh...Oooh, Y. Is it Y?" Granddad called Y's name.&lt;br /&gt;The voice was as he remembered it, but the intonation was somewhat strange. It was too monotonous. Granddad used to speak with a strong accent, but his voice sounded artificial as if it had been computer-generated.&lt;br /&gt;Granddad took one feeble step towards Y.&lt;br /&gt;"What happened to you, granddad?"&lt;br /&gt;Y said, growing anxious because granddad was acting strange.&lt;br /&gt;Granddad again coughed a few times and scratched his head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Granddad, did you try to come home?"&lt;br /&gt;When Y asked, grandad looked up at the ceiling as if he was trying to think a little, and said;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh...Oooh, Y. Is it Y?," uttering exactly the same phrase and in the same intonation as before. Y found that disturbing, and began to think maybe what he was seeing in front of him was not his granddad at all.&lt;br /&gt;Granddad was still staring at the ceiling. From his fingers some purplish-red liquid trickled to the floor, making a small pool on the carpet. Moreover, when Y looked at him more closely, he noticed that granddad's arm was bent at an unnatural angle; and the length between the shoulder and the elbow was longer than a normal person's upper arm should be. Granddad wasn't like that at all when he was alive. Maybe this thing was something that was pretending to be his grandad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y slowly started to back away, being careful not to make any noises. But despite&amp;nbsp;his effort&amp;nbsp;the thing that was pretending to be his granddad seemed to have realized Y's intention and, stretching only its neck, he stared at Y.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Oh no, it's looking at me&lt;/em&gt; - the moment Y thought it, the thing's face was right in front of him.&lt;br /&gt;Its body was still standing where it was; the only parts that moved were its head and neck. The neck was now like a over-stretched rubber band. Before his eyes, purplish-red bubbles formed around its mouth.&lt;br /&gt;"Oh...Oooh, Y. Is it Y?"&lt;br /&gt;Y screamed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He ran for his life and took refuge in the nearest bookshop. He was scared to be alone in the house. He couldn't go back until the rest of the family was home, by which time it was past 9pm. He told them what happened to him but no one took him seriously.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That night he was forced to sleep in his own room, where the red granddad appeared. Y felt uneasy. Whenever he closed his eyes he feared that he would see that red face the moment he opened his eyes again. But in the end fatigue took the better of him and he fell asleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When he woke up the next morning, his face somehow felt itchy. He went to the bathroom and looked himself in the mirror; his face was wet with purplish-red juice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From then on he stopped sleeping in his room. Because he wasn't sure if he could manage to escape like the last time if the thing appeared to him again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To this day Y still says, "that was definitely &lt;em&gt;not&lt;/em&gt; my granddad."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-5877291618397629921?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/5877291618397629921/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=5877291618397629921&amp;isPopup=true' title='25 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/5877291618397629921'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/5877291618397629921'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2009/03/ooh-is-it-y.html' title='Ooh, Is it Y?'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>25</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-5542970475786463178</id><published>2009-02-26T13:29:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2009-02-26T13:29:17.345+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Urban Legend'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dream'/><title type='text'>What the old hag is looking for</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Saya's&lt;/span&gt; comment&lt;/span&gt;: this dream is one of Japanese urban legends and it is said to be dreamt mostly by children.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the dream you are standing inside a room. And there you see an old hag who is frantically looking for something, rummaging through drawer after drawer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You ask her, "what are you looking for?"&lt;br /&gt;The old hag turns around and spreads out her hand.&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;em&gt;I am looking for my little finger&lt;/em&gt;."&lt;br /&gt;You look at it and sure enough her little finger is missing.&lt;br /&gt;Then the old hag asks you, "&lt;em&gt;can you help me find it&lt;/em&gt;?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you have the above dream, make sure you say yes to her request, &lt;em&gt;and &lt;/em&gt;find her little finger.&lt;br /&gt;Because if you can't find her little finger, you will never be able to wake up again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-5542970475786463178?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/5542970475786463178/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=5542970475786463178&amp;isPopup=true' title='34 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/5542970475786463178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/5542970475786463178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2009/02/what-old-hag-is-looking-for.html' title='What the old hag is looking for'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>34</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-7230133534030006978</id><published>2009-02-17T10:41:00.004+09:00</published><updated>2009-05-24T15:07:35.450+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='My Master Series'/><title type='text'>My Master Series: Episode One "The Lock"</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;Introduction:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; This is episode one of what has come to be called "My Master Series," a group of short stories that has been posted at a Japanese occult site randomly over a long period of time. Each episode is independent but in all of them always the same characters appear; the narrator, and his friend whom the narrator calls "My Master."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Episode One "The Lock":&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My master in the Way of Occult at the time lived in a cheap, run-down apartment. The door lock was of an ancient type and he didn't always care to use it. One morning he woke up to find a strange man sitting by his pillow (&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;note: many Japanese people sleep on the&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; mattress on the fl&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;oor &lt;/span&gt;) who said "good morning" to him. When my master returned his greeting, the man started talking about his religious organization and how it would be wonderful for my master to join it. What my master did then was simply to get up and leave, with the stranger still inside the room. My master doesn't know the meaning of "crime prevention."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first time he invited me to his room it was of course left unlocked, both before and during my stay.&lt;br /&gt;We drank ourselves to sleep. During the night I woke up, feeling a ringing in my ears. Then I saw a figure sitting by my master's mattress, bending over him as if tyring to see my master's face. My immediate thought was that it was a burglar, and I was thrown into a panic, but my whole body tensed up and I couldn't utter a word. I decided, for the time being, to pretend I was still asleep, and opened my eyes very slightly. After a while the figure tottered to his feet and slowly moved towards the door.&lt;em&gt; Go! There's nothing for you to take!&lt;/em&gt; I kept praying in my heart. The man opened the door, and before leaving, turned his head towards me for a brief moment. In the semi-darkness I saw a keloid-like scar on his right cheek.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the man left I shook my master awake.&lt;br /&gt;"Please, you must lock the door!" I was half crying as I said it.&lt;br /&gt;But my master was unmoved. "That was scary! But it wouldn't have helped much even if I had locked it."&lt;br /&gt;"What are you talking about? Are you out of your mind? Are you saying you were awake?"&lt;br /&gt;My master kept smirking as I raved.&lt;br /&gt;"You saw his face at the end."He said.&lt;br /&gt;When I nodded, he pointed at my eyes and said something that froze my blood.&lt;br /&gt;"The glasses."&lt;br /&gt;Now I understood everything. I had very bad eyesight and couldn't virtually see anything without glasses. Even my master's face, which was right in front of me, looked terribly blurred.&lt;br /&gt;"It was the first time you saw it without glasses, right?"&lt;br /&gt;I hadn't known before that beings such as the one I saw was beyond the laws of science.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The being was a "passer-by" after all. Since then I had stayed over at my master's a couple of times but it never appeared to us again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-7230133534030006978?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/7230133534030006978/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=7230133534030006978&amp;isPopup=true' title='16 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/7230133534030006978'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/7230133534030006978'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2009/02/my-master-series-episode-one-lock.html' title='My Master Series: Episode One &quot;The Lock&quot;'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>16</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-4890425640194528566</id><published>2008-10-05T17:02:00.004+09:00</published><updated>2008-10-05T17:15:41.483+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Movie#3'/><title type='text'>The Opening Scene from "The Happiness of the Katakuris"</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/FQeTxihXcaE&amp;amp;hl=ja&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/FQeTxihXcaE&amp;hl=ja&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Happiness_of_the_Katakuris"&gt;The Happiness Of the Katakuris &lt;/a&gt;is a bizarre horror-comedy musical film directed by &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Takashi_Miike"&gt;Takeshi Miike&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-4890425640194528566?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/4890425640194528566/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=4890425640194528566&amp;isPopup=true' title='19 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/4890425640194528566'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/4890425640194528566'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2008/10/opening-scene-from-happiness-of.html' title='The Opening Scene from &quot;The Happiness of the Katakuris&quot;'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>19</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-3985334477387994183</id><published>2008-10-03T18:34:00.006+09:00</published><updated>2010-10-25T19:21:06.190+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Movie#3'/><title type='text'>Art Of Silent Hill #2: 兎 (USAGI)</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/KLqEAhZpGMc?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=ja_JP&amp;amp;color1=0xcc2550&amp;amp;color2=0xe87a9f"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/KLqEAhZpGMc?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=ja_JP&amp;amp;color1=0xcc2550&amp;amp;color2=0xe87a9f" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love bunnies!&lt;br /&gt;And bunnies are bloodier the better!&lt;br /&gt;Bunnies rule!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #33cc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I'm not going to translate any more stories until around the end of October (have too many things to do).&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #33cc00;"&gt;BUT I will be posting movies.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-3985334477387994183?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/3985334477387994183/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=3985334477387994183&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/3985334477387994183'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/3985334477387994183'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2008/10/art-of-silent-hill-2-usagi.html' title='Art Of Silent Hill #2: 兎 (USAGI)'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-1308789287045063562</id><published>2008-10-02T21:25:00.002+09:00</published><updated>2008-10-02T21:44:32.305+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Movie#3'/><title type='text'>Art Of Silent Hill: 袋 (FUKURO)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;WARNING - Images of blood!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From the DVD &lt;em&gt;Art of Silent Hill&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;It uses images from the playstation game &lt;em&gt;Silent Hill 2&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Fukuro&lt;/em&gt; means "sack" in Japanese.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/aVcVq0BCBvg&amp;amp;hl=ja&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/aVcVq0BCBvg&amp;hl=ja&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-1308789287045063562?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/1308789287045063562/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=1308789287045063562&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/1308789287045063562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/1308789287045063562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2008/10/art-of-silent-hill-fukuro.html' title='Art Of Silent Hill: 袋 (FUKURO)'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-2902655921722578041</id><published>2008-09-30T18:02:00.003+09:00</published><updated>2008-09-30T18:09:49.874+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Movie#3'/><title type='text'>Bloody Night ~ A Silent Movie ~ (clay animation)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;WARNING - Images of Blood and Violence!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/U3T1JJsm1VQ&amp;amp;hl=ja&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/U3T1JJsm1VQ&amp;hl=ja&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Presented to you by the creator of &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2008/09/clay-animation-bloody-date.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Bloody Date &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-2902655921722578041?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/2902655921722578041/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=2902655921722578041&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/2902655921722578041'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/2902655921722578041'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2008/09/bloody-night-silent-movie-clay.html' title='Bloody Night ~ A Silent Movie ~ (clay animation)'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2424102700579341189.post-3834653583703793523</id><published>2008-09-29T17:31:00.004+09:00</published><updated>2008-09-29T17:37:16.721+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Words from Saya'/><title type='text'>Thank you!</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I just wanted to say THANK YOU for all your comments.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I'm sorry that sometimes I can't reply to them, but I appreciate and read all of them nevertheless.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;And I thank you when you provide me with useful information relating to the articles I wrote.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Best Wishes,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Saya&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2424102700579341189-3834653583703793523?l=sayainunderworld.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/feeds/3834653583703793523/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2424102700579341189&amp;postID=3834653583703793523&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/3834653583703793523'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2424102700579341189/posts/default/3834653583703793523'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sayainunderworld.blogspot.com/2008/09/thank-you.html' title='Thank you!'/><author><name>SAYA</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02656628145147216545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_RsQ7ckG8vho/RsJHUSDNqCI/AAAAAAAAABM/P8HhMA2FQwk/s320/KUMAred.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry></feed>
