I have been regularly sleeping on the carpet in my room for weeks now. More precisely in my pink and blue-painted children’s room, with the grey floor and the cuddly toys on the bed. The bed scares me. If I were lying in bed instead of on the floor, I’m afraid I would actually sleep. Possibly for hours. Uncontrollably long. It’s a scary thought.

I don’t want to sleep. No, I can’t sleep. Just a little snooze. Just a little rest. But I’m not going to sleep. If I sleep, I burn fewer calories. Another advantage is that I don’t need an alarm clock anymore. The hard, cold ground presses against my bony back so hard that I count the minutes until I can finally get up.

But I am not allowed to get up until six. Not a minute earlier, not a minute later. From this time on, every step is planned and ritualized. From now on I leave nothing more to chance. Going to the toilet, like every day, adjusting the weighing scale, like every day, and taking off all my clothes, like every day. First the shirt, then the trousers, then the underwear, last the socks and also the hair tie. Everything must go.

The moment of truth, my judgement. Almost ceremonially I breathe in and out slowly and close my eyes slowly. The measurement of my sins, my sentence in black digital numbers. Today, the scale smiles on me. 44.7 kilograms. That is 200 grams less than yesterday. Relief – but I am still not light enough. Even the fact that today is August 4 does not change my daily procedure. Because this summery-warm Tuesday is something like a new stage in my life.

This new stage begins on ward 8 in room number 24. From now on this is my room. When I move into my new home I get a visit from my room neighbors and the ward nurse. She even has a little present for me: the therapy week plan. And suddenly the sterile white walls, the adjustable hospital beds and the tubes next to my wardrobe are not so bad anymore. I love plans.

Two weeks later I am still sitting in room number 24 on ward 8, staring motionlessly out the window. I have stuck the therapy week plan on the shelf next to my bed on the left, and on the right next to it a photo of me in a black dress, laughing and with my mother in my arms. Between the two pictures lie exactly 14 months, twenty kilograms and countless nights on the floor.

I am only allowed to leave room number 24 for examinations, therapies and meals together. I have to spend the remaining hours in my hospital bed, staring out of the window. I call it isolation, bed rest for physical stabilization is what the senior physician with the high receding hairline and dirty glasses calls it. From up here I have a view over the whole city. Down there on the right, just behind the long hill, is the university and the library. Only a few weeks ago I was sitting right down there and going through the books for eight hours every day.

Meanwhile I don’t even know which books they were. I was in a spiritual vacuum. While I sat there and tried hard to decipher the letters, there was only fog in my brain. A dull, dark something that absorbed all thoughts like blotting paper. The longer I stared at the pages, the more they suddenly turned into pictures of pizza. Pictures of ice cream or cream pie.

I saw wiggly upper arms, jeans that were too tight and hips that bulged out. I saw the calories come alive and how they made their way up my thighs. I saw dancing fat cells and gymnastic carbohydrates. I saw my legs, even as I sat there, suddenly swelling tenfold and threatening to burst at any moment.

I don’t know when it started. I don’t know if at some point I just woke up and decided to lose weight. What I do know is that I’ve always been “the weird one.” It was me who they placed the exchange students, the troublemakers and the newcomers next to me in class, because there were always free seats next to me.

It was me who was allowed to shine in the play in the sixth grade with the line “The thick end comes at the end”. It was me who they were negotiating with candy bars in gym class about who had to take me on their team. It was me who was given the most creative and humble nicknames. It was me who felt so unloved at the age of 13 that she swallowed 80 sleeping pills and tried to slit her wrists with craft scissors.

This was followed by ups and downs, on the weighing scales and in social relationships. I never wanted to feel left out again. Never again did I want other people to have so much power over me that I was inferior to them. Never again did I want my feelings to be controlled by others. I wanted to be special. Unique, different, outstanding. Infallible, unapproachable and icy cold. I wanted to become a smooth, edgeless, perfect Barbie doll without blemishes and without a target.

And so I was. The more I learned to control my hunger, the more I learned to control my emotions. Eventually, I got rid of my hunger and my feelings. It was overwhelming. I alone, nobody else, yes, not even my own body, now had more control over me. Me, only me, me and nobody else.

I determined when I ate, how much I ate, whether I ate at all. I set myself goals. First it was three kilos. Then another three. Then it was five. I managed to do them all, and I did it purely by willpower. I had ambition. I was so damn good at what I did. The whole world was open to me at once. Could it get any better? The hell it did. I had power not only over myself, but over others as well. Suddenly I wasn’t “the fat one” or “the funny one” anymore. I had finally gotten an identity.

The more fragile and fragile I became, the more cautious I became. Whoever spoke to me used only gentle, soft, tender and feather-light words. I was wrapped in cotton candy and doused with honey. My appearance breathed awe into the others. No one would call me happy hippo or roly-poly anymore. The fear that every wrong word could break my starving arms was too big.

Every kilo less was my triumph. Every ounce I dropped freed me from the burdens of being a fat girl. Every kilo lost was a manifesto to my outside world: Look at me. Watch me starve myself to death. Look at me as you can only stand by and be powerless. Look at who you called lazy and fat back then.

Look at what I can do. And I can do more. Hell, yeah, I’m not even a little out of breath. I’m just getting started. See how this starving girl can function better than you ever will. And it actually worked. I had success in sports. I got socially involved. I won competitions and prizes. I passed my high school graduation with flying colors. I even got a scholarship. And in the meantime, slowly but surely, I was dwindling.

Eventually there was so little of me left that I couldn’t get out of bed. I was so slim that I had to wear two thick sweaters in the shade at 30 degrees outside and still shivered. I was so slim that I had blue hands and purple feet. I was so slim that a fluff of hair had formed on my almost transparent skin. A kind of protective fur that was supposed to keep me warm. I was so slim that I could think of nothing else but food and weight. I had lost myself in my own world. In my labyrinth of coffee cups and chewing gum wrappers I was about to cut my throat with my beloved measuring tape.

In room 24 on ward 8, chewing gum and measuring tape are prohibited. Just like in my world, there’s a rule for everything here. You have 30 minutes for a meal. Two glasses of water is the maximum you can drink with your main meal. Teaspoons and cake forks are forbidden. As well as light products. Under no circumstances should you talk shop about calories while eating.

Regular permission to go out is only given to those who gain weight well-behaved and always eat up. If you lose so much weight that your body mass index slips into a life-threatening range, you get a milkshake-like feeding drink, available in forest fruit, vanilla or cappuccino. And those who do not drink it are given a probe inserted through the nose.

On ward 8 I am, for the first time in a long time, no longer the puppet master, but the puppet. A marionette, with long string legs and fine string sleeves, who with her body mass index of 15.2 is just one of many string girls. We string girls all have one thing in common: We are here because we have reached a dead end in our lives.

Perhaps someone has deliberately sent us astray. Maybe we were on the run and didn’t pay attention to the road. Maybe it was dark and we couldn’t see the crossroads. Maybe we were curious to see where the trail would take us. Then we all ended up here, in a sterile and white hospital room on ward 8. We are about to find our way back to the point where we took the wrong turn. And if we go down that path, then, for better or worse, we have to change. We have to start the metamorphosis.

And as I think about my long journey ahead, a thought suddenly occurs to me. Before this thought escapes me, I quickly scribble it down in my notebook: “When winter came and the little caterpillar noticed that it could no longer feed on the sweet nectar of the flowers, it decided to become a butterfly. But when it emerged from its cocoon and spread its wings, it was suddenly no longer hungry at all.

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When the new generation of social networks first gained a foothold in the United States about ten years ago and shortly afterwards in the rest of the world, they were a welcome showcase for reaching people beyond the boundaries of the open Internet. So we built up small communities on Facebook, Twitter and later on Instagram, only to realize way too late what a hopeless dependency we were maneuvering ourselves into. Suddenly the networks were demanding money for us to reach our organically grown target groups, after we had been voluntarily and free of charge luring users to these same companies for many years before.

Today, we find ourselves in the strange situation that we have to deal with reaching only a fraction of those who have subscribed to our website in social media on Facebook, Twitter & Co, because we are not only systematically minimized and even censored there, but also have to live in constant fear that our channels will be blocked if we show even the slightest hint of a female nipple or are targeted by a small group of users who have been offended by one of our articles, and thanks to the automated reporting function are put in the digital pillory.

But that’s not even the real problem. If we were to stand behind the values these companies embody, we would continue to fight to increase our visibility in their channels, we would be happy to abide by their old-fashioned house rules, we would also feel comfortable convincing our readers that it’s a good idea to open accounts there to follow not only us, but also other interesting websites and individuals. But not only do we not stand behind the values of these corporations, no, we are downright disgusted by what they have become.

Because let’s be honest: Facebook, thanks to its agenda and riot-programmed algorithms, is nothing more than a breeding ground for the extreme fantasies of early retirees banned from society, Twitter has turned into a tunnel filled with hate and screams of politically motivated idiots, not least thanks to the presence of Donald Trump, and those who seek their happiness on Instagram are forever lost, merged in a painting altered over and over again thanks to Photoshop filters with other poor souls who have long since left reality behind.

That’s why we have decided to stop being an active part of these so-called social media networks from now on and to switch to an only automated approach on our broadcasting channels on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Tumblr, Pinterest and whatever else has accumulated over the past decade. We won’t answer questions there, won’t reply to comments, won’t counter critics – we won’t even read any of that. And we won’t follow anyone else. Instead we will simply share our articles – in a fully automated way.

There are probably enough social media managers out there who consider this step to be an absolute digital suicide, but we have seen all kinds of start-ups in recent years that have burned out entire editorial offices on these very channels, only to go down in smoke shortly afterwards. We’ve also disabled comments on AMY&PINK, but if you want to let us know your opinion, you can do so by sending us an electronic letter. And if you want to know more about why social media is bad for you in general, we recommend reading the book “Digital Minimalism: Choosing a Focused Life in a Noisy World” by Cal Newport – it’ll blow your mind, in a good way.

Another and much better way to consume our articles, which we fully encourage you to do so, is either by visiting our website or by subscribing to our RSS feed. The latter works for example via websites like Feedly, Feedbin and Inoreader, apps like Reeder, NetNewsWire and Flym or the Feedreader Plugin from Feeder for Google Chrome, Firefox and Safari. There you can not only add AMY&PINK, but also all your other favorite blogs and online magazines and in some cases even Twitter accounts, YouTube channels and Instagram profiles. That way you won’t miss anything anymore and you won’t have to deal with any mysterious algorithms, preselections and bells.

With this step we want to restore our independence as an online magazine as well as make a small contribution to an open Internet. Because it can’t be that for some people the Internet isn’t just much more than Facebook, YouTube and Instagram – or in what kind of bubble they’re vegetating in. The Internet is big, colorful and exciting – and that’s exactly what we want to prove as well as live with AMY&PINK. We want to be a good example. Who knows, maybe in the near or distant future there will be a new generation of social networks, which share these seemingly outdated values, but until then, we enjoy our newly won freedom with a cool glass of gin and tonic.

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Anime is so much more than cute girls with big eyes and even bigger boobs. No other medium provides such a rich illustration of different universes, journeys and characters where everything seems to be possible. Japanese animation culture has matured into the peak of human storytelling. Take Akira for example, take Neon Genesis Evangelion, take Grave of the Fireflies. And it’s not only the diverse characters and beautiful stories which hijack our minds for a couple of hours, it’s also the elaborated architecture of buildings, machines and cities that give us an immerse impression of another world.

German curator Stefan Riekeles has been the Artistic Director of the Japan Media Arts Festival Dortmund, and curated the 2011 exhibition ‘Proto Anime Cut’. He served as the Programme Director of the International Symposium on Electronic Art 2010 and curated exhibitions for transmediale festival for art and digital culture Berlin. He holds an MA in Culture Studies and Audio Communication Science from the Humboldt University and the Technical University in Berlin – and, last but not least, he loves the art of Japanese animation so much, he even writes books about them.

His new book “Anime Architecture” features the breathtaking cityscapes and building structures created by the most revered directors and illustrators of Japanese animated films. It’s a mind-blowing and behind-the-scenes journey through futuristic megacities and urban centres of the near future. Anime’s creators have conjured memorable and painstakingly detailed worlds, the influences of which have been felt across cinema, literature, comic books and video games for decades.

This overdue celebration offers a peerless survey of these cinematic arenas – including material from Akira, Ghost in the Shell, Patlabor, Neon Genesis Evangelion and Tekkonkinkreet – through original background paintings, storyboards, drafts, sources of inspiration and film excerpts. Produced in direct collaboration with the original Japanese production studios, “Anime Architecture” offers privileged views into the earliest conception stages of iconic scenes, through to their development into finished films. The book will be available this year and can be bought right here.

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Old people have invented a particularly creative term for sending nude photos of yourself to your fellow students: sexting. And because they’re not exactly thrilled about us showing each other our primary and secondary genitals, there are always educational and media campaigns to warn and discourage us from sending our own exposed bodies across the Internet. Since we are all aware of the benefits of such initiatives, namely none at all, and that professors, who are always loudly and publicly outraged, probably jerk off themselves first when they discover photos of their own students on the Internet, here are some valuable tips for digital nude photos – so that you don’t end up looking too stupid when half the campus gets their hands on them.

Every few weeks, the internet pours out more bad than respectable nude leaks of some mostly third-rate celebrities who look as if a paparazzo had just frightened them through the bathroom window while taking a shit. Bad light, even worse pose, worst resolution. Who wants to go down in history like that? If you take the trouble to show off your uncovered body, you must celebrate it in a way that blows everyone else’s mind and never again questions yourself and your views on life.

So beware of quickly making any filthy pictures of your breasts with bra marks or of your pussy covered with stubble, lint and white snot. Put on make-up, style yourself, wash yourself and your hair. And shave if you’re not one of those girls who celebrate the warming bush and don’t want to look like a grade school girl down there. Just try a little harder, because you don’t want to make the same amateurish mistake as so many other gullible people before you and, worst of all, you don’t want to be forced to do nudes in the most inhuman way between two important dates, which you can only feel sorry for afterwards. Because regret is a terrible feeling.

Nothing is more embarrassing than a naked picture of you looking like an 80s porn star. Don’t throw make-up and lipstick in your face, don’t pose as if a horse from another dimension is about to run into you from behind and don’t lick your drooling mouth lasciviously. Nobody wants to see that! The more natural you look the more sexually attractive you feel and are to others. Stand or lie down normally, look sexy but not exaggerated, and refrain from stupid gestures like duckface, poses from movies or the peace sign stretched into the camera.

If you look sexy in a natural and self-confident way, even in nude pictures, you gain the respect of the viewer as well as your own. Literally everyone is able to undress and make pictures of themselves. But bringing out the magic of someone’s naked body is something that very few people can do. Even girls with the most beautiful aura, the brightest eyes and the hottest smile have already stumbled upon one thing: A room peppered with rubbish. Because in the photos that you blow into the world like this, not only yourself can be seen, but also your relentlessly portrayed open life.

Dirty underwear mountains on the floor, filthy bottles full of Mountain Dew on the cluttered desk, old pink teddy bears on the cupboard, embarrassing children photos of your preschool years on the wall and, best of all, your vibrating best friend on the bed – by sexting you sometimes confess more to the world than you want to. So either make sure you find a place in your room that doesn’t look like World War III has just broken out, or escape to another room – preferably the bathroom. And if you decide to take a picture of yourself through a mirror, clean it first! Streaks and stains have been the absolute doom of many sisters before you.

Anyone who, for whatever reason, still runs around with his flip-up and almost falling apart Razr from Motorola knows how shitty some built-in mobile phone cameras can be. And everything you photograph with it looks like shit. Which means for you: Your body looks like shit. Either you use the latest technology for sexting, i.e. the brand new iPhone, a very good Android gadget or an expensive SLR camera, or the exact opposite: analogue, i.e. the good old Polaroid format, which makes you look even more creative. Sexting? No: It’s fuckin’ art!

Pixelated pictures of your cunt may hide some details, but basically it only means one thing: In the end everybody knows that you sent nude pictures. The only problem is: You look like 2003 on them. And you really don’t want to do that to yourself. Or anyone else out there. If you’re doing a nude selfie for the first time in your life, you might be a little overwhelmed with the possibilities of exposure. How much do I show? What do I show? How close do I show it? Does my face have to be on it? Is someone out there fetishizing my oddly shaped feet?

First of all: photos of your body, on which you have cut off your face due to an apparent anonymity, seem to be the most logical at the beginning, but the real eroticism unfolds only when your eyes can be seen. They are the key to digital and, if we are honest, analog sexuality. But you don’t have to cram a whole mutated zucchini through your extended labia deep into your uterus with your legs spread wide apart to attract even the slightest bit of attention. Start small, show only one nipple at first – and if you feel comfortable afterwards, maybe more. Don’t let yourself or your horny counterpart rush you.

Yes, the temptation is huge to just brush away your full-grown fat rolls, stretch marks or the cellulite that suddenly appeared after the pictures were taken with Photoshop, Facetune or Afterlight, but the problem is that you’re just not great with any of those apps. In the end the background bends or the colors don’t fit or your body looks like a cartoon character – and that’s embarrassing. Plan ahead before you take the pictures so that all the problem areas that you might want to hide are not necessarily visible. And find an advantageous pose in which your whole belly doesn’t stick to the chair or both of your sagging breasts, for whatever reason you already have them, swing left and right.

If you want, you can either use an Instagram filter to adjust the contrast and color levels to make you look better, or go for black and white. If your little brother then finds your pictures on the Internet, you can at least say in your defense that you took them for an art project. Or something like that. It’s best to take as many photos of you as possible, with different facial expressions, poses, angles. Once with and once without self-timer, once from near, once from far. Afterwards you can choose in peace and quiet which pictures you want to release and which ones will be deleted.

Be very careful and pay attention to every imaginable detail in the selected photos. Because you have to consider: Each of these little time bombs can theoretically be exactly the picture that bites you in the ass in a couple of months or years – and you have to be able to stand by it one hundred percent. It’s best to delete all the original pictures you don’t need from your camera, your mobile phone and your computer forever. And your USB sticks, and your CDs, and your floppy disks. And from the cloud. So that the whole folder “My Pussy 2020” won’t appear on the next university computer in the end.

If you’re already a bit advanced in this area, you’re welcome to become more creative. At some point, you’ll get tired of standing in front of your mirror and taking blunt full-screen photos of your stature one after the other. Selfies can be so much more exciting than that. Whether you’re driving to the nearby forest to sit in white socks on a tree, taking an unprecedented nudist trip through Southeast Asia, or pressing yourself into your favorite nerd costume just to have a clear view of what’s going on in the right places: sexting can be fun!

And you don’t have to be alone with the camera – get your very best friends, your current lover or your just recently popped out kitten, as long as you don’t do anything forbidden with the little bundle – that won’t go down very well with the masses out there. Whomever you send the photos in the end, you can be sure: Sooner or later they will show up on the internet! Either because your ex-boyfriend is mad at you and uploads revenge porn on YouPorn in a horny moment, because the constant synchronisation with your devices automatically sucks every little piece of crap into the net – or because you simply publish the wrong picture on Facebook.

Therefore three things are especially important. First: You must not have a problem with other people seeing you naked – whether it’s your colleagues, your friends or your family. Second: You have to be sure that you only send photos that you stand a 100 percent behind. And third: Be mentally prepared for it. It’s not the end of the world if total strangers see your tits. After all, 50 percent of the world’s population and quite a few fat guys also have breasts (and mostly uglier ones…) – and even a pussy is nothing special. Don t let you be bullied either! Most people who bullshit you have the most problems with themselves. It’s best to ignore them and live a more sexually fulfilling life with a new experience in your mental luggage.

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Benee herself is by no means bound to the concept of genre – or to any categorization or rules in this field. “I like eclectic, random vibes,” the 20-year-old singer from New Zealand tells us. “That’s my thing with everything. Fashion and art. It’s kind of messy.” She’s an anomaly in the pop sphere, really different from everyone else. Her authenticity is immediately apparent. “I don’t do anything I don’t want to do because it doesn’t make sense to me,” she explains. She doesn’t dress up to impress, and she’s not afraid of just being herself: an oddball, inexcusable kiwi, very modest and reserved. “I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to success, to be honest,” she says, “I’m in this constant, overwhelming state where everything is very surreal.”

“In my childhood,” the musician from Auckland says, “I felt a little strange, and I felt like I was on my own.” She played sports and tried the guitar and saxophone at school, but Benee’s music career only really took off when she was discovered by a producer on the Internet a few years ago. She had recorded a number of GarageBand covers, by people like Gnarls Barkley and Amy Winehouse, and released them “mainly for friends” on SoundCloud. Soon she found herself in a real studio and used the free time she had in her last year of school to explore a fascinating world of sounds and words and to become a little pop star.

Until her big breakthrough, Benee juggled the dishes in evening shifts as a dishwasher in a restaurant, while continuing to fiddle around with her songs. In mid-2018 Benee released her undoubtedly catchy hit “Soaked”, which immediately became a viral success. It was a relief, both for Benee herself and for her discoverer. The Australian influential radio station Triple J started to play it. “Oh my goodness, maybe I made the right decision,” Benee even thought before she finally became part of modern pop music.

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Japanese animation began in the early 20th century, when filmmakers experimented with new animation techniques. A claim for the earliest Japanese animation is Katsudo Shashin, an undated and private work by an unknown creator. In 1917, the first professional and publicly displayed works began to appear. Animators such as Oten Shimokawa and Seitarou Kitayama produced numerous works, with the oldest surviving film being Kouchi’s Namakura Gatana, a two-minute clip of a samurai trying to test a new sword on his target only to suffer defeat. The 1923 Great Kanto earthquake resulted in widespread destruction to Japan’s infrastructure and the destruction of Shimokawa’s warehouse, destroying most of these early works.

The success of Walt Disney’s 1937 feature film Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs profoundly influenced many Japanese animators and in the 1970s the Land of the Rising Sun saw a surge of growth in the popularity of manga, comic books and graphic novels, many of which were later animated. The work of Osamu Tezuka drew particular attention: he has been called a legend and the god of manga. His work, and that of other pioneers in the field, inspired characteristics and genres that remain fundamental elements of anime today. Following a few successful adaptations of anime in overseas markets in the 1980s, anime gained increased acceptance in those markets in the 1990s and even more at the turn of the 21st century.

I personally absolutely love anime. Fantastic stories paired with upbeat characters, beautiful drawings and epic music. The greatest thing about Japanese animation in general is the huge variety they exist in. Every single one of them is like an open door into another adventure. Some are dark, some are happy. Some are cute, some are sexy. Some are harmless, some are exciting. Just pick one and find yourself in an alternate universe where suddenly everything seems possible. Anime is the perfect escape for the oppressed mind. For starters, we picked the ten best shows you can and should watch right now. From comedy to drama, from action to family friendly entertainment. Welcome to the glorious world of anime!

The day the stars fell, two lives changed forever. High schoolers Mitsuha and Taki are complete strangers living separate lives. But one night, they suddenly switch places. Mitsuha wakes up in Taki’s body, and he in hers. This bizarre occurrence continues to happen randomly, and the two must adjust their lives around each other. Yet, somehow, it works. They build a connection and communicate by leaving notes, messages, and more importantly, an imprint.

When a dazzling comet lights up the night’s sky, it dawns on them. They want something more from this connection — a chance to meet, an opportunity to truly know each other. Tugging at the string of fate, they try to find a way to each other. But distance isn’t the only thing keeping them apart. Is their bond strong enough to face the cruel irony of time? Or is their meeting nothing more than a wish upon the stars?

From director Makoto Shinkai comes a beautiful masterpiece about time, the thread of fate, and the hearts of two young souls. In 2002, he debuted his first film, Voices of a Distant Star, which was a true labor of love. Having created nearly every aspect of the movie himself, Makoto’s first film sent shockwaves through the anime world for its expression and impressive world view. For the next years he continued to produce masterpieces and in 2013 scored a hit with The Garden of Words which grossed over a million dollars on a limited release. From directing, to writing, and all the way to color design, Makoto puts his all in every piece of his films. The moment you see his work, you know it is exclusively him.

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Goku may be small, but this fearless warrior packs a punch as powerful as any on the planet. Left alone after his grandfather’s death, this unusual boy is happy to spend his days hunting and eating and eating some more. But everything changes on the day he meets Bulma – a bossy, blue-haired beauty with boys on the brain. Together, they set out to track down the seven magic Dragon Balls and make the wish that will change their lives forever. And that’s just the beginning! Goku also spends some time on Turtle Island where he and Krillin study martial arts under the legendary Master Roshi. The old hermit may not look like much, but if his new pupils can find him a woman, he’ll make sure they’re ready to rumble at the upcoming World Martial Arts Tournament!

Renowned worldwide for his playful, innovative storytelling and humorous, distinctive art style, Akira Toriyama burst onto the manga scene in 1980 with the wildly popular Dr. Slump. His hit series Dragon Ball ran from 1984 to 1995 in Shueisha’s Weekly Shonen Jump magazine. He’s also known for his design work on video games such as Dragon Quest, Chrono Trigger, Tobal No. 1, and Blue Dragon. His recent manga works include COWA!, Kajika, Sand Land, Neko Majin, Jaco the Galactic Patrolman and a children’s book, Toccio the Angel.

The first adventures of Dragon Ball are lighter in tone and more broadly comic than the beginning of the darker Red Ribbon Saga. And, to be honest, I like them more than everything that came afterwards. The playful stories mixed with crazy characters, Dragon Ball in its earliest form is also the one where adventures count more than overstretched fights against alien monsters. If you like Dragon Ball Z and want to learn more about Son-Goku and his friends or if you just searching for a swift anime full of insane experiences then the first seasons of Dragon Ball are a perfect choice.

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When Satsuki and her sister Mei move with their father to a New home in the countryside, they find country life is not as simple as it seems. They soon discover that the house and nearby woods are full of strange and delightful creatures, including a gigantic but gentle forest spirit called Totoro, who can only be seen by children. Totoro and his friends introduce the girls to a series of adventures, including a ride aboard the extraordinary Cat Bus, in this all-ages animated masterpiece featuring the voices of Tim Daly, Lea Salonga, and real-life sisters Dakota and Elle Fanning, in one of their earliest roles.

From the legendary Studio Ghibli, creators of Spirited Away and Ponyo, and Academy Award-winning director Hayao Miyazaki, comes a classic tale of magic and adventure for the whole family. My Neighbor Totoro introduced American audiences to Totoro, a character who is becoming as beloved as Mickey Mouse to children the world over. Jump aboard! It’s a journey that will take you to animated heights you’ve always dreamed about! You’ll laugh with Totoro! You’ll cry with Totoro! Best of all, you’ll fly
with Totoro!

Hayao Miyazaki, a renown writer, movie director and script writer in Japan, has created numerous award winning animation movies – but My Neighbor Totoro will always be his most recognized work. It’ss the heartwarming story of two young girls who are befriended by the furry creatures called Totoros. The lovable magical animals can’t talk like people nor can they be seen by adults, but they make perfect sense to the pure and innocent of heart. And when you need to call on a friend for help, you can always look to My Neighbor Totoro. He’s out there, somewhere, watching over you.

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Usagi Tsukino is a cheerful 14-year-old schoolgirl who often finds herself in unwanted trouble. One day, she saves a talking cat named Luna from some mean kids, and her life is changed forever. Luna gives Usagi a magic brooch that transforms her into Sailor Moon, defender of love and justice! Now Usagi must work with Luna to find the other Sailor Guardians and the Moon Princess, whose Legendary Silver Crystal is Earth’s only hope against the dark forces of the evil Queen Beryl! Sailor Moon is, without any doubt, of the most treasured anime series of all time!

After finding to new friends with the quite nerdy Sailor Mercury and the tomboyish Sailor Mars, Usagi and Luna continue their quest for the Legendary Silver Crystal as two new powerful allies join the fight. Sailor Jupiter is the tall and tough Guardian of Thunder, and Sailor Venus is the Guardian of Love and the most experienced member. Sailor Moon herself gets impressive new powers with time and learns more and more about the mysterious Tuxedo Mask who always seems to appear at the exact right moment. Could their distant pasts be intertwined, and does that have anything to do with the Moon Princess they seek? The final ordeal with Queen Beryl looms on the horizon, and it will take everything the Sailor Guardians have to be victorious.

Sailor Moon is the quintessential magical girl phenomenon beloved worldwide that chronicles the adventures of a 14-year-old girl and her friends, chosen by destiny to defeat the forces of evil. Told in various anime, manga and novels, Sailor Moon has become cherished by fans for over 20 years. Based on Naoko Takeuchi’s mega-hit graphic novel series, Sailor Moon tells the fantastic fairy tale of a kindhearted crybaby destined to protect the world from dark forces. Will the Sailor Guardians be able to find the Legendary Silver Crystal in time before the world falls into eternal darkness?

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Set in rural Japan, Spirited Away opens with ten-year-old Chihiro and her parents on their way to a new home in the suburbs. Having taken a wrong turn, the family arrives at what they believe to be an abandoned amusement park. Chihiro’s parents are soon tempted by a buffet of irresistible food, which nearly consumes them as they consume it. They are quickly transformed into large squealing pigs.

When Chihiro searches for help, she finds a friend in Haku, a mysterious boy with magical powers. He introduces her to the spirits that inhabit the amusement park at night. Chihiro must go to work for Yubaba, a fierce old woman with a huge head and short body, who runs a hot springs resort for all manner of fantastic creatures and gods. Her experiences with these spirits, monsters and beings from ancient legends, lead to a series of extraordinary and entertaining adventures beyond her wildest imagination.

Hayao Miyazaki’s films are always built around strong characters, and Spirited Away contains some of the most strikingly original creatures ever seen. At the core of the tale is Chihiro, the ten-year-old heroine. She begins as a rather sulky, spoiled child with a tendency to panic when things go wrong, but she develops the ability to remain calm when others are not. She never gives up once she has set her goals. Chihiro meets and befriends a variety of beings in the spirit world and finds herself rather sooner than later in a fantastic fairy tale full of unforgotten wonders, magic and miracles.

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Space Dandy is a dandy in space! This dreamy adventurer with a to-die-for pompadour travels across the galaxy in search of aliens no one has ever laid eyes on. Each new species he discovers earns him a hefty reward, but this dandy has to be quick on his feet because it’s first come—first served!

Strap in for the ride of a lifetime, baby! Space Dandy is here to blow your mind with a show of pompadour perfection. Hunting for rare alien species, the one and only Dandy boldly goes where no Dapper Dan has gone before. He travels the galaxy in his trusty spaceship hoping to make a buck on bounties, rocketing towards his ultimate destination—Boobies, the greatest view in the universe.

Tagging along for the ride are his misfit sidekicks, QT the defunct robot and Meow the alien space cat. Together, they’ll round up more trouble than bounty while the chimp-faced Dr. Gel will stop at nothing to get his paws on the man with the signature ‘do. But that won’t stop this classy crew, baby! Cruise along with Dandy on a deadly space race, pull underarm hairs to other dimensions, and team up with a drop-kicking commander-in-chief for a show that will rock your socks to outer space!

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Inflicted with a deadly curse, a young warrior named Ashitaka sets out to the forests of the west in search of the cure that will save his life. Once there, he becomes inextricably entangled in a bitter battle that matches Lady Eboshi and a proud clan of humans against the forest’s animal gods… who are led by the brave Princess Mononoke, a young woman raised by wolves. This monumental struggle between man and nature will have you transfixed as stunning artistry blends with epic storytelling to create a uniquely entertaining motion picture.

Before it ever arrived in the U.S., this epic, animated 1997 fantasy had already made history as the top-grossing domestic feature ever released in Japan, where its combination of mythic themes, mystical forces, and ravishing visuals tapped deeply into cultural identity and contemporary, ecological anxieties. For international animation and anime fans, Princess Mononoke represents an auspicious next step for its revered creator, Hayao Miyazaki, an acknowledged anime pioneer, whose painterly style, vivid character design, and stylized approach to storytelling take ambitious, evolutionary steps here.

Hayao Miyazaki’s convoluted fable is clearly not the stuff of kiddie matinees, nor is the often graphic violence depicted during the battles that ensue. If some younger viewers, or less attentive older ones, will wish for a diagram to sort out the players, Hayao Miyazaki’s atmospheric world and its lush visual design are reasons enough to watch. If Princess Mononoke is too graphic for you, you can still switch to a more family-friendly Hayao Miyazaki feature like Spirited Away, Ponyo or My Neighbor Totoro – but you will definitely miss something epic if you choose to do so.

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The year 2071 A.D. That future is now. Driven out of their terrestrial eden, humanity chose the stars as the final frontier. With the section-by-section collapse of the former nations a mixed jumble of races and peoples came. They spread to the stars, taking with them the now confused concepts of freedom, violence, illegality and love, where new rules and a new generation of outlaws came into being. People referred to them as Cowboys.

Meet Spike and Jet, a drifter and a retired cyborg cop who have started a bounty hunting operation. In the converted ship The Bebop, Spike and Jet search the galaxy for criminals with bounties on their heads. They meet a lot of unusual characters, including the unusually intelligent dog, Ein, and the voluptuous and vexing femme fatale, Faye Valentine. Now, with more scruples than the rest of their ilk, the gang often find themselves without the cash, and consequentially without food on their plates. And when they get caught in the crossfire of a mafia grudge match, they may all reconsider their line of work.

That Cowboy Bebop, first broadcast in 1998, and produced by Sunrise, a subsidiary of Bandai, and TV Tokyo, is a fan favorite goes without saying. It’s a masterpiece of storytelling, invention, design, music and production on every level. Cowboy Bebop is unique. It regularly features in top ten lists of anime jewels, and sometimes even tops those lists. Easy to see why: it’s got everything, and then some. If you only want to watch one anime this year, Cowboy Bebop is the one you should, without any doubt, dive into.

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Welcome to Neo-Tokyo, built on the ashes of a Tokyo annihilated by a blast of unknown origin that triggered World War III. The lives of two streetwise teenage friends, Tetsuo and Kaneda, change forever when paranormal abilities begin to waken in Tetsuo, making him a target for a shadowy agency that will stop at nothing to prevent another catastrophe like the one that leveled Tokyo. At the core of the agency’s motivation is a raw, all-consuming fear of an unthinkable, monstrous power known only as Akira.

In 1982, Kodansha published the first chapter of Akira, a dystopian saga set in Neo-Tokyo, a city recovering from thermonuclear attack where the streets have been ceded to motorcycle gangs and the rich and powerful run dangerous experiments on destructive, supernatural powers that they cannot control. In 1988, the manga was adapted into what was at the time the most expensive animated film ever made, which brought Akira’s influence out of the manga world and onto the global stage.

Akira isn’t just a movie – it’s the genesis of a genre. Katsuhiro Otomo’s landmark cyberpunk classic obliterated the boundaries of Japanese animation and forced the world to look into the future. Akira’s arrival shattered traditional thinking, creating space for movies like the The Matrix to be dreamed into brutal reality. Without Kaneda and Tetsuo, without espers and psionic assassins, without that badass motorcycle – our world would be a far less exciting place to exist. But the manga became the movie and the movie became a phenomenon and the world took notice. Now, Akira is everywhere. If you can’t see it in the streets – if you can’t feel it crawling around inside your brain – then you have yet to be initiated.

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In this post-apocalytpic sci-fi story, humanity has been devastated by the bizarre, giant humanoids known as the Titans. When the man-eating giants first appeared, humans retreated behind massive walls. Little is known about where they came from or why they are bent on consuming mankind. Seemingly unintelligent, they have roamed the world for years, killing everyone they see. For the past century, what’s left of man has hidden in a giant, three-walled city. People believe their 50-meter-high walls will protect them from the Titans, but the sudden appearance of an immense Titan is about to change everything.

After a hundred years of safety, a colossal-sized Titan smashes through the defenses, unleashing a flood of giants and carnage in the streets. Eren Jaeger watches helplessly as one of the creatures devours his mother. He vows to kill every Titan walking the earth. Eren and his surviving friends enlist to fight against the insatiable monsters. The future looks bleak, but there’s more to Eren than meets the eye: he may be humanity’s last hope against extinction.

From Tetsuro Araki, the director of Death Note and Highschool of the Dead, comes the series Anime News Network calls an intense, visceral, and graphic thrill ride. The Titans have come to feast. Anything can happen. No one is safe. Attack on Titan is the perfect anime for any horror-loving fan, or just people who like stories about the battle to survive against man-eating giants that are threatening to eat you, your family, and everyone you know.

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The first time I fell in love was in the third grade. His name was Peter. He had dark curls, played soccer and liked to throw paper balls at me in class, which, when you rolled them apart, showed that he had made them from the pages of his maths booklet. This probably explained his poor grades in this subject. Peter was a rebel. And that’s what I liked about him. Of course I had long since realized that he liked me, too. At least in elementary school you can still trust that there’s really something to the old saying “What loves, teases!

I was a rather shy child. And apart from that, I found boys – at least when my friends and parents asked me about it – pretty stupid, considering my age. It was something like an unwritten law at that time that boys up to a certain age had to be considered stupid – and vice versa. In reality, however, most of us had our first little crush when we were in kindergarten.

Anyway, I would never have taken the first step and confessed my love to Peter. Although it was quite obvious that I liked him and he liked me. And so for almost a whole school year only paper balls flew back and forth between us, or we stole each other’s ruler, which is what you do as a child when you want to attract someone else’s attention. In retrospect, the whole thing was of course pretty silly, and I think both Peter and I can be glad today that these actions did not result in an entry in the class register.

However, towards the end of the third school year a few things changed. Peter suddenly became calm, hardly looked at me anymore. I had already come to terms with the fact that my first love was no longer interested in me, when shortly before the summer holidays something amazing happened: After an hour of social studies, Peter came to me and placed an envelope on the table without saying a word and without even looking at me.

My friends had not missed this, of course, and so I had to open the envelope before their eyes during the big break and read the contents of the letter out loud. It was an invitation to Peter’s birthday party, which took place in the last week of the summer holidays. My heart was beating up to my neck. My friends, however, didn’t like it as much as I did. They regarded it as a kind of treason if I went to that party – after all, the invitation came from a boy, and boys were our greatest enemy at that time. Besides homework and unannounced tests, of course.

The date, however, fell exactly in the period of time I would spend on family holidays in Spain, as I learned when I presented Peter’s invitation to my mother in the afternoon. My dream of hooking up with what I believed to be the greatest boy the world had ever seen was thus once again shattered. I was sure that Peter would never look at me again if I didn’t come to his party – especially since I knew that he had invited a few girls from the parallel class who all thought he was great and wouldn’t miss the chance to spend a whole afternoon with him.

At the beginning of the fourth grade I had actually already finished with the subject of Peter. I was far too young for a boyfriend anyway, and besides, I had other things on my mind in the meantime, such as which secondary school I would probably go to and how I could persuade my parents to buy a Tamagotchi. Besides, I had just started to play the piano and I spent all my free time learning pieces that my piano teacher would never have put on the music stand.

But then came my very first class trip. And that changed everything again. We were in some rural school, not far from home, and were forced by our teachers to go hiking every day. It was hell, because somehow we all imagined our first big school trip differently – more like in the movies we saw on TV.

One day, however, has remained in my wonderful memory to this day. Peter and I hadn’t spoken a word to each other for weeks, but on this one day, on one of our trips, he walked next to me – and just took my hand. Just like that, without saying anything. And I let him. From that moment on, the hike we were on didn’t seem as bad as before.

We never really talked about it, but since that moment Peter and I were together somehow. A couple, just as adults were couples, at least in our childhood notions of couplehood relationships. We wrote each other notes in class about how much we liked each other and in the breaks we held hands. Our relationship never went beyond this kind of affection – but we were still children, and somehow what we had was really beautiful.

After the following summer holidays, however, we parted ways because we went to different schools in different cities. There was never a promise that we would keep in touch. It ended as gently and wordlessly as it had begun. But somehow it was not bad, but in its own way just right. And I think there are few people who can say about their first relationship that it was beautiful through and through, from beginning to end. Peter’s and mine was.

A few days ago I typed his name into Google. And I actually found his phone number. I would have liked to call him and ask what he was doing today. How his life and his relationships have been going since we lost sight of each other. I decided not to do it, because I like the memory of him, my very first love, but sometimes you just have to leave it at that.

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Kyoto is a truly magical place, you can feel it on every corner, on every street, on every bridge. Whoever enters the old imperial city is transported to a different time with each step. Modern manga shops border on old, small pubs and restaurants. Beautiful geishas float through brightly flashing shopping centers. Traditional temples sit enthroned above chic skyscrapers.

The metropolis, which was the seat of the imperial Japanese court from 794 to 1868, is located about 400 kilometers southwest of Tokyo in the central west of the main Japanese island of Honshu, about ten kilometers southwest of Lake Biwa and about 40 kilometers from Osaka. According to the classic Chinese geomancy, Kyoto is laid out like a checkerboard. The center and the south are the economic heart of the city. Some of the tourist sights are in the center, but most of the famous temples are in the north.

In the center of Kyoto city, there is a beautiful food market named Nishiki Food Market which maintains the dining table of the residents and is affectionately called Kyoto’s Kitchen. In the shops of the covered arcade you can find everything from Japanese pickles, tea, sweets and tofu to ceramics and other traditional goods. Since many shops offer take-out, try some of the food at the market.

At the eastern end of the Nishiki Market is the Nishiki Tenmangu Shrine, which specializes in meeting the needs of those who are studying or doing business. Insert a coin to start the mechanized lion dancer who will choose your luck. The Japanese-English fortune of the Lion Dancer comes in two versions: one with your fortune and one with a traditional Japanese floral design.

Even within Japan it is rare to find a museum and library dedicated to manga. From precious post-war pieces to modern popular manga and international publications, the International Manga Museum in downtown Kyoto has collected some 300,000 different works. The building itself was renovated from an old primary school building. Inside the building, visitors can browse the “Manga Wall” with its huge collection of foreign and local manga and immerse themselves completely in the history of manga in time and space.

Shijo Street runs through the famous Gion entertainment district. Here you are sure to find numerous geisha houses and other traditional shops. Explore the shops that offer macha, a kind of bitter green tea, various sweets, traditional sweets and kimono accessories, all of which focus on the one street that truly captures the essence of Kyoto. At the eastern end of Shijo Street is the Yasaka Jinja Shrine, the face of Gion. The arcade leads from Keihan Shijo station to the western gate of Yasaka Jinja Shrine.

The Teramachi mall is full of variety, from youth clothing stores to second-hand books and drawings from the Edo period, also known as ukiyo-e. Many shops specializing in locally produced goods carry unique items such as samurai wigs. The northern part of Sanjo Street is lined with cafés and more traditional shops selling items such as tea and Japanese paper.

Gion Corner is a unique theater that features one-hour performances of seven professional performing arts from Kyoto – the classical comedy of Kyogen, Kyomai dance, the gagaku music of the imperial court, the Koto harp, Bunraku puppet theater, tea ceremony and flower arrangement. The Gion Corner is located in the Yasaka Hall on the north side of the Kaburenjo Hall of Gion, where geishas give beautiful presentations. There you can also experience a real tea ceremony and learn about the etiquette of the tea ceremony in a relaxed atmosphere, if you are interested. Since the explanations of the presentations are given in English, Gion Corner is very popular with tourists from abroad.

When you visit the Kifune-jinja shrine, you will be able to feel the presence of various gods and spirits. Forget the hustle and bustle of the city in the silence here, with the soothing murmur of the river splashing right beside you, and enjoy the relaxing feeling of the cool air coming from the river. The Kifune-jinja shrine has long been visited by people who pray for happiness and prosperity, for marriage and for the fulfillment of their wishes.

The Kifune Jinja Shrine is revered by the imperial household and is familiar to many people in Japan. It looks beautiful in the fresh green of spring, which is getting deeper every day, and the area is popular in the summer because of the food at the Kawa Doko Riverbank. The shrine is also popular for its flaming autumn foliage and the dramatic contrast of its red lanterns, which are covered with white snow in winter. If you want to dive deep into Kyoto, you should pay it a visit.

For a turn into the quirky, go to Konkai Komyo-ji Temple, not far from the famous Philosopher’s Walk in Tetsugaku-no-michi street and only a ten-minute walk from the Okazaki-michi bus stop of the Kyoto City Bus. The temple itself has an impressive two-story gate, and in the Mie-do Hall is a wooden seated statue of Honen, the founder of the Jodo sect of Buddhism. The temple’s beautiful gardens with sand paintings depict the lives of Honen and others associated with the founding of the temple. In autumn, the maple trees surrounding the temple ponds are reflected brilliantly in the waters.

Hidden within the temple grounds you will find this unusual statue of Amidha Buddha. This may not be what you think of when you imagine a Buddha statue with its traditional hairstyle of tight turns: This one has a head of curly hair so big that it almost looks like an Afro! It is said that this Amidha figure spent such an extraordinary amount of time devoting to his ascetic training and praying for the fate of mankind that his hair grew longer and wilder until it piled up high on his head. There are only 16 such figures in all of Japan. Try to take a picture of this unusual stone Amidha Buddha with his wild hair.

Fushimi is a part of Kyoto but it feels kinda different and nostalgic. In a good way. The Fushimi Inari-taisha Shrine and its magnificent one thousand vermillion gates are known around the world but the ward has quite a few more hidden gems. Located in the south of Kyoto, it has long played an important role as a transportation hub, connecting Kyoto and Osaka by river. Due to its abundant underground reserves of clear, high-quality water, Fushimi has also blossomed into a center for sake production, a tradition that continues to this day with more than 20 active breweries.

And then there is the famous Imperial Palace of Kyoto, which was the residence of the imperial family until the capital was moved to Tokyo in 1869. It is located in the Gyoen Park of Kyoto. Within the imperial palace grounds, surrounded by a covered clay wall, are the Seiryo-den, the Palace Hall, and the Kyogosho, the Small Palace, which are strongly reminiscent of this dynastic era. Except for five days in spring and autumn, when the Imperial Palace is open to the public, you must apply in advance to obtain permission to visit the palace.

If Tokyo is too loud, too crowded and too confusing for you, then you will love Kyoto. Everything is a little calmer and more relaxed here. And maybe a little more natural. The time-honored spirits of bygone eras seem to take care that the city does not lose its balance. Traditions can be found everywhere in Kyoto, but the colorful streets are neither dusty or antiquated. And even if you just take a walk on the Kamo, you will fall in love with Kyoto and its residents in a heartbeat.

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When I first started AMY&PINK in 2007, after I closed down another personal blog, and turned it into a magazine, together with my friend Hannah, a couple years later, I had only one goal in mind: World domination. And it felt great. To earn money felt great, to get free stuff felt great, to hear from completely strange people that they love what we’re doing felt great.

But there was one problem: AMY&PINK was written, with a few exceptions along the way, in German. At first, that was totally fine. We had fantastic readers, brands paid us to write about their products and parties, we were invited to events in New York, London and Rome. What could you possibly want more from life? But nevertheless the last few years I felt more and more empty and depressed.

AMY&PINK went from the feeling of possible world domination to an everyday job, without slim chances of growth. On my trips with journalists and bloggers from all continents, I was constantly reminded of a much bigger and more important world out there. And no matter how hard I tried to be successful with AMY&PINK, the truth, that most people don’t care, pushed me into a burnout.

I’ve done a lot of things to get out of this miserable feeling. I closed AMY&PINK and started a new online magazine. But that didn’t work. I turned AMY&PINK back into a personal blog. But that didn’t work. I created a bilingual version of AMY&PINK. But that didn’t work. A couple of weeks ago I wanted to sell AMY&PINK. Just to get rid of those decisions – for good.

We love AMY&PINK. We really do. It’s more than a website for us. And maybe it’s more than just a chapter in life for many of us. There are so many memories attached to this colourful logo and this strange name. And I realized that the only way to get rid of those constant worries is to get over my fears of losing money, losing readers or losing some kind of image. It’s better to try and fail than to hesitate forever.

So I’ve decided to make a clean cut, delete the German AMY&PINK and start over with an English version about the topic that I love most: Pop culture. Music, fashion, art, movies, games, food, travel and thoughts about love, sex and life in general. Everything I like, everything that I personally think is worth writing about – for everyone who’s interested in that kind of things.

I exchange safety for a unique feeling of freedom, of hope and of this amazing feeling of possible world domination, which I’ve lost over those last couple of years. And I’m quite sure this feeling is more important than anything in this mostly generic and disillusioning world.

Yeah, I know. I’m not a native English speaker. And many people from all over the world are going to be aware of that. But I’m not only willing to learn, I’m happy to. Because this decision (hopefully) leads me out of a dark place, where my thoughts wanted to crush me, into a room full of new open doors. Or something like that. Call me the great master of metaphors.

I’ll be happy if you’d accompany me on this new way to see where this is all going. But I totally understand if you’d rather want to stay with a German blog or magazine, because they’re easier to read or provide more German topics. If that’s the case, then you should try sites like Mit Vergnügen, Im Gegenteil or, I don’t know, maybe the German edition of VICE.

Thanks to everyone who made the last years of AMY&PINK great, memorable and epic. And I’m pumped to see how an international version of AMY&PINK about pop culture can affect creative people from all over the world – and myself. Like Hannah told me a couple of weeks ago: “Don’t be afraid!” Maybe that’s the best advice someone can give you. It’s about time for world domination. And gin and tonic.