Eighteen - Supernova

(Current Time: 9:03 Am, 1st blk)

(Current Sounds: 'Girls Not Grey' by AFI)

Musings and ...holy, she read a short story?!:

The Star by Ester Claes is a short story I just recently read via online (www.short-stories.co.uk/)

Its a very...messed up three pager. First off, the main character, the 'star', is a little bit stuck up for her own good. Showbiz, promoting herself by new fragrances and music, has gone waaaay too far up her head and she doesn't know what's really important (Which, in the story, is a radiation poisoning and war.) Typically, she's not paying any mind to the troubles around her (referring this as 'There's nothing wrong in LA!). It pretty much shocked me that such a greediness exists within such people.

Around the end, her father and mother are even sick, and she still minds the carpet from incoming puke attacks. She doesn't notice ANY of the dangers around her--she still looks at her Grammy and gold records and reassures herself that shell still be a star the next day.

... within all honesty, that's oblivious to the EXTREME right there. >_<

Agaaah. I'll read some more this long weekend (I'm interested in 'The Crimson Candle' by Ambrose Bierce.) 

...if I survive the dental appointment, that is -_-

-kiwi

Seventeen - Imaginary

(Current Time: 7:09 Pm)
(Current Sounds: 'Coin-Operated Boy' by Dresden Dolls)

Musings and Lyrics:

Goodness, damn my friend Bryce. Due to one Japanese tutoring block I had with him, we had a listen-to on his I-Pod...and holy shit, I fell in love with a broke-up band.

SAD. FACE.

They're the Dresden Dolls. I guess I only heard a few of their songs since that block, but...holy shit. I do like the song I did fall in love with. Its typically my mood too. Here ya go.

~~

Coin-Operated Boy
-Dresden Dolls

coin operated boy
sitting on the shelf he is just a toy
but i turn him on and he comes to life
automatic joy
that is why i want a coin operated boy

made of plastic and elastic
he is rugged and long-lasting
who could ever ever ask for more
love without complications galore
many shapes and weights to choose from
i will never leave my bedroom
i will never cry at night again
wrap my arms around him and pretend....

coin operated boy
all the other real ones that i destroy
cannot hold a candle to my new boy and i'll
never let him go and i'll never be alone
not with my coin operated boy......

this bridge was written to make you feel smittener
with my sad picture of girl getting bitterer
can you extract me from my plastic fantasy
i didn't think so but im still convinceable
will you persist even after i bet you
a billion dollars that i'll never love you
will you persist even after i kiss you
goodbye for the last time
will you keep on trying to prove it?
i'm dying to lose it
i'm losing my confidence
i want it (x4)
i want you (x4)
i want a (x4)
coin operated boy.

and if i had a star to wish on
for my life i cant imagine
any flesh and blood could be his match
i can even take him in the bath

coin operated boy
he may not be real experienced with girls
but i know he feels like a boy should feel
isn't that the point that is why i want a
coin operated boy
with his pretty coin operated voice
saying that he loves me that hes thinking of me
straight and to the point
that is why i want
a coin operated boy.

-kiwi

Sixteen - Little More than Assertive

(Current Time: 9:47 Am, 2nd Blk)

(Current Sounds: 'Storm' by Yoshida Brothers)

Musings and Some Writing:

In these last two days, I cleaned up my room.

*insert silence here*

... okay, let me start again.

In these last two days, I cleaned up a STORM of a room (hence the sound I'm currrently listening to. Damn you, Yoshida Brothers.)

My room was typically the remnants of some dusty desert civilization, that I recall, was something I thought at the time was a good place to sleep and stay.

.... until I saw the number of dust mites and cobwebs Mom and me vacumned up. OH GOOD GOD. I COULD'VE MADE A MINI EIFFEL OF PARIS WITH ALL THAT DUST.

Typically, I shouldn't note down what disgusting things I found both behind, under and around my bed (its even too explicit for me to describe at the moment). But instead, I'll make a list poem about what I discovered in the room I THOUGHT was clean...

~~

Erasables

Old drawings, some I figured should've been scrapped, some that I knew were the inspiration I wanted and craved that time.

Hair elastics, multicolored and monochrome mixed, all of which won't even go around my thin bob of hair.

Japanimation posters, one man of the sea, one with two warrior men I lost interest with a long time ago, and one who's lost soul I should try to watch again later.

Sunglasses, scattered in their lilac, scarlet and sunrise hues, instead they find a home in one of my shoeboxes.

Encyclopedias, the hard bound mahogany covers that were so outdated I could've sworn even my mom and dad weren't born before this series was written.

Bracelets, one I bought at that California dollar store, one I picked up at a lone harbor, and one I swear I was given by a boy who doesn't remember me anymore.

One Japanese-written poster, inscribed with a message about peaceful resolutions. I should hang it when the room is done so I could be welcomed by its gentle presence. 

Notebooks, these two hold what I was three years ago--and I flip them in order to truly know I've moved on from what I didn't want to be before.

A case of sais, double weapons I received last year from a mentor I might not see because of burnt bridges.

Two lip glosses, one tasting of dead whipped cream, the other still fresh of strawberry shortcake

Miniature cars, orange, white and blue, holding a childhood of tomboyish desires and forgotten beliefs.

A teddy bear who's name was Hiryu, who I accidentally dropped underneath my bed and got my heart all a-strung for two nights until I realized I could've just cleaned my room to save my red-scarfed friend.

-kiwi

Fifteen - Overused Euphemisms

(Current Time: 9:48 Am, 2nd Blk)
(Current Sounds: 'Juicebox' by the Strokes)

Musings:

Okay its official. I'm kind of tired of falling in and out of video game obsessions. Falling out of a anime obsession doesn't happen to me that much anymore, but the video games are the ones I'm noticing the most.
Its ANNOYING.

First off, it doesn't do me any good when I need to draw something. I'd influence my fingers to draw in that style I'm currently obsessed with.

...Kingdom Hearts for instance.

D:



IT'S QUITE EMBARASSING ENOUGH THAT I WENT THROUGH A YEAR AND 3 MONTHS OF THAT OBSESSION ON MY BACK.

I even swore myself that i would back at this and cringe at myself. Honestly? By all means, I think the one responsible for my KH overdose was THIS group of fellows right here.



UGH. AHH.

I could've made progress with something ELSE other than get my fill of these guys. DAMN YOU, ORGANIZATION XIII.

DAMN YOU FOR TAKING MY HEART. (lol, irony)

I also had a King of Fighters rave after one month of rehabilitation (I make it sound like a phase o.O) It semi-weared off when I saw Ash Crimson,


(CAN YOU BELIEVE THIS IS A GUY)

...but its still with me. Its fresh like Street Fighter, but its decently enough for me to make some nice pairings.



...

Ugh. AHH.

I tried to get into my anime self once more but I realized Bleach won't just COVER the true animes I've watched during these past 8 years.



Sorry Uryuu. GET YOURSELF A PLOTLINE AND I'LL BE HAPPY. (along with most of the other major-turned-minor characters in your series D:)

Okay. For once I slide away from that for a bit to gain some ground with my manga reading. To my dismay (well, I didn't think of that at the time....)

....I found another obsession. >_<

UGH AHH. UGH AHHHHH.

I still have that small little liking for the Cain Saga, despite it already ENDED IN JANUARY 2008 OF THIS YEAR. But i still make little theories as to what happens before and after with some characters.

....I could go on a rant with this. But i wont ^_^;;

Then, lately, I went FOR A WHILE, to No More Heroes.

Its cute, its kickass. I think I already wrote about this, so i'll spare the details xD. GO LOOK FOR THAT POST IF YOU WANT TO KNOW ABOUT IT. GET A WII. GET THIS GAME.


okay not that...XD

THIS:


YOU HAVE TO. TRAVIS IS....GAWD ~D: SO EFFIN HOT AND BADASS. (fangirl moment. this happens when she actually is still in an obsession.

aww damn)

I kinda wanted to play Travis D: when we borrowed that game. Ray, my brother hoooooogged it.

...And I can't wait for NMH2: Desperate Struggle. D: But I have to. >_<
(ANYONE ELSE THINKS VEN LOOKS SIMILAR TO A CERTAIN NOBODY. THAT'S NOT DEEMED SUSPICIOUS. NOT AT ALL)

I...I'll write that theory later. When i'm on a better comp (I should be lucky I'm on one that I can still see the screen on xD)

Ciao. (MEOW D:)

-kiwi

Fourteen - Sidewalk Stories/Godchild Character Charts

(Current Time: 8:46 AM, 1st Blk)
(Current Sounds: Preeeetty much nothing at the moment)

Musings:

Okay okay OKAY. I'll get back on those Godchild Character Sheets i promised myself a while back. WAAH.

I swear to god, I'll be OVER this obsession once I'm completed this stupid project...D=

~~

My Notes As Thus Far:

Count Cain/Godchild
Major and Minor Characters



Cain Christopher Hargreaves
Age: 17
Height: 5'7" (Maybe? What's the height for an average teenage Victorian male?)
Weight: "Less than a barmaid" -Oscar Gabriel
Eyes: Green with gold flecks (shows he's the result of an incestuous relationship)
Hair: Dark brown

Physical Traits:
*Cain's eyes are usually noted as "gold" but they're actually green with gold flecks.
*His back is entirely covered with scars from a whip. He ALWAYS keeps his back covered and only shows it to Riff, whom he trusts.

Abilities:
*Has an encyclopedia knowledge of poisons
*Can alternate between scary as hell and utterly charming
*Absolute genius when solving mysteries
*Could poison a victim without them even knowing it.
*Handy with a pistol
*Expert pianist

Remote supernatural ability--he's oddly sensitive to female ghosts. He's talked to his former cousin/half-sister) cousin, Suzette's ghost, and was possessed by Crehador's girlfriend, Sheila

His psyche: Mostly scarred by his father's abuse. Calculative. Idle thoughts have to do with Merry or Riff.

Body Condition: Pretty frail--Kaori Yuki once noted down that Riff could probably kill Cain with one strong slap.

Occupation: Earl of Hargreaves.

~~



Riffael Raffit (prefers Riff)
Age: 28
Height: 6'2"
Weight: Enough to knock Cain out xD
Eyes: Dark blue--
*Harden to a darker grey when in Riffael form; soften to a lighter grey when he's with Cain <3
Hair: Blueish silver

Physical Traits:
*Tall, built, striking :3. He's pretty normal looking and fairly well-dressed
*Has a scar on right wrist showing his imcompetence at comitting suicide; He's not afraid to show it.
*Has a rose shaped burn mark on his chest--made after DELILAH used "force" to suppress the wills of Riff and Riffael.

Abilities:
*S-surprisingly strong! He's a boxer, and it shows; he's stronger than most normal people
*and can in fact kill with his bare hands should he so choose.
*Can tie a mean shoelace, and make a slapping ass good cup of tea :3
*He's also a med student, so he knows more than the basics of first aid and chemistry, etc. He wants to help you. >:

His psyche (here's the big spoilers):
WELL. As you'd guess, most of Riff's thought processes revolve around his COMPLETE DEVOTION to Cain Hargreaves. However, there's a catch! This subservience is nothing more than a false personality created by a psychic. He is a sadist with a slight fixation on Cain's pain-- but he's not picky about his victims, really. He's utterly self-serving.

He also has false memories of the fire that killed his parents, because of this, but his true self remembers the truth: that he set that fire. SO UH. HAVE FUN, PSYCHICS READING THIS.

Body Condition: Buiiiiiilt :D~

Occupation: Manservant/Butler of the Hargreaves. (Cain's dormant damsel in distress ^_^)

~~



Jezabel Disraeli
Age: 26 (HE'S YOUNGER THAN RIFF, WHAT THE HELL)
Height: 6'0"
Weight: Skinny! Needs more sandwiches.
Eyes: Ranges from greyish blue to amethyst
Hair: Silvery/Ash Blonde

Physical Traits:
*Has very long, pretty, feminine hair, so he is kind of trappy.
*He also has a small scar underneath his left eye, but because of the way he wears his hair it's often difficult to see unless you're looking for it specifically.
*There are various whipping scars all along his back
*He is always, always wearing a black cross necklace.

Abilities:
*THIS IS WHERE IT GET A BIT TRICKY because canon isn't entirely clear on what sort of things Jizabel can do by himself and what sort of things he needs to call upon lackeys (okay, most of the time it's Cassian) for. We know that he is extensively knowledgeable in the area of drugs and poisons, is also a licensed and perfectly capable doctor, and can wield a sword and other sharp pointy things efficiently. I'm going to add a few things to this list, having now re-read canon:

• Has extensive knowledge in matters of the occult and dark magic, and is perfectly capable of performing acts involving them. Now, as to what exactly fits under the category of 'dark magic' is up to interpretation, but canon has him able to bring someone back from the dead ala zombification and other not-so-nice techniques, so that'll be one of them. Don't ask him to be your personal moogle. Just don't.
  
• Has had some psychic training, probably by Justice. He also probably never finished his training because he and Justice are like a couple of extremely territorial alley cats, but he's had some, regardless. He probably knows when someone is reading his mind or attempting to, anyway. Hilariously enough, he won't shield his thoughts most of the time if he knows this. He upholds the belief that he can think about whatever the hell he wants and will not take any sort of prosecution about it from anyone. Which is especially ironic, considering the next section.
  
• CAN WHIP OTHER PEOPLE BESIDES HIMSELF oh snaaaaap

His psyche:
Fucking batshit crazy. I'm not kidding. If he's unhappy, he's probably thinking about disemboweling you and hanging your corpse from the spinal cord outside the mess hall. If he's happy, he's probably thinking about disemboweling you and hanging your corpse from the spinal cord outside the mess hall. Often violent, and on special occasions, sexually violent. And I don't mean just normal rape, I mean rape and then body mutilation. HAPPY FUN TIMES FOR ALL.

Body Condition: Aside from the anorexic streak, he's pretty healthy

Occupation: Doctor, and twisted collector of parts. D:

~~



Merry Weather Hargreaves
Age: 10
Height: ....10 years old? Probably even shorter than that xD
Weight: 10 years old. I dunno xD
Eyes: Sapphire
Hair: Long, straw-color blonde

Physical Traits:
*Loooong hair. Usually has this one braide on her left side of her face
*Wears out of the line Sweet Lolita dresses. (She's doll-like in appearance,)

Abilities:
....*(topping Cain? xDDD I KID)
*She can read the Tarot ever since she had a life in the streets
*She can kick taller people's shins XD

Her psyche:
Merryweather is a normal 10 year old girl! She probably thinks about her brother, Riff, Oscar, Uncle Neil, yeah. Digging around in her mind might bring up memories of people getting murdered (l-lol), but she doesn't actively think about it

Body Conditon: Pretty healthy, Stickly thin--Oscar tells her to eat 'in order to become a nicely shaped woman someday." Siiiicko D:

Occupation: Younger half-sister to Cain. Consider her a princess.

--

OTHER CAST that I will try getting notes for laaaaater

Alexis Hargreaves (Cain's ASS of a dad. You'll see when i put his meme up)
Oscar Gabriel (Cain's friend, Merry's feared "suitor" D:)
Dominic Crehador (French medium. has a girlfriend named Sheila)
Cassian (Jezabel's little henchman xD)
Ida of Lunacy (Alexis' second in command)
Mikaila (A girl who looks like Suzette--with one creepy backstory behind her)
White Owl (a white haired dude with killer violin skills)
Madame Octavia (the blind psychic we fear xD)
Augusta Hargreaves (We'll give you her later D:)

~~
Here ya go. I'll work a little later with the nex batch (Oscar, Crehador, Cassian and Ida).
YEAH YEAH I'M LAZY.
I'LL GIT TO IT.
BUT THIS LOOKS LONG ENOUGH, DOESNT IT.

D:

~~



-kiwi

Thirteen - Catharsis

(Change from the green colors. Its effing AUTUMN :D)

(Current Time: 1:53 AM, Home)
(Current Sounds: Football TV, and my sis and bro laughing their intoxicated asses off)

Musings/Blessings



Alrighty! Happy Turkey Thanksgiving! YOU PEOPLE THANK YER PARENTS FOR TEH FEWD.

Anyways. I have complied a list of today's events, all in blessing form. Yeah, I know, I HAVE MORE TO COUNT FOR--but I realize it everyday with my parents and sibs.

They....kind of recognize whatever I have almost all the time. ^_^ It's nice.

ANYWAYS. Here it is:

Today's Thanksgiving Notes, 2008

I'm thankful for...

-INFINITY- My parents and sibs. Love you guys :3
1. Being able to get up
2. Waking up earlier than most people (I tend to lose sleep that way, but I'M HAPPY I SEE THE SUN RISE)
3. Our old school computer. (Its slow, its clunky--it can handle Firefox. OH YES, THANK YOU FOR 9 HAPPY YEARS)
4. Having clean shower water. (Though, I won't tolerate shower heads that are aimed at my face when I first turn it on. -_-)
5. Our clean house. (In my opinion, its cleaner than most ^_^)
6. God, who's watching me ^_^ (I THINK THAT'S PERVERSE, BUT HE STILL LOVES ME)
7. Giving me a beautiful body (Okay, so my rack is bigger than my face, my legs are stubby, and I'm near-sighted. I KINDA LIKE MYSELF)
8. My ability to eat. (If I didn't like food, I'm not human D:)
9. My stomach, for holding whatever I'm able to eat (xD)
10. The fact that our van didn't receive a bigger dent than it already has.
11. My low tolerance with alcohol (Okay...margarita coolers don't count. BUT. I'LL READ THIS AND REMEMBER I'VE GOT A VOW TO CHUG A CHAMPAGNE BOTTLE ON NEW YEARS)
12. Not getting sick (Cuz it'll block my nose. It's one of my favourite parts on mah body)
13. My Mom and Dad's wonderful ability to make awesome food :9
14. Being pretty much happy with where I am at the moment.
15. Not getting my hands burnt while preparing stuff from the oven D:

^_^

I also have something to write here too. Something I found in my old notes a while back..

Be Thankful:

Be thankful that you don't already have everything you desire.
If you did, what would there be to look forward to?

Be thankful when you don't know something,
for it gives you the opportunity to learn.

Be thankful for the difficult times.
During those times you grow.

Be thankful for your limitations, because
they give you opportunities for improvement.

Be thankful for each challenge,
because it will build your strength and character.

Be thankful for your mistakes.
They will teach you valuable lessons.

Be thankful when you're tired and weary,
because it means you've made a difference.

Its easy to be thankful for the good things.
A life of rich fulfillment comes to those who are also thankful for the setbacks.

Gratitude can turn a negative into a positive. Find a way to be thankful for your troubles, and they can become your blessings.

~~

Have a good one, guys.

-kiwi

Twelve - Answering Rhetorics

(Current Time: 10:15 Am)
(Current Sounds: 'Pleather For Breakfast' by Masafumi Takada )



Homework:

Looking at TONE here, folks! Don't mind me putting this up--I'm gonna try making my poor, drained head to memorize how to recognize theme in a snap!

:D JUST LIKE JAPANESE HIRAGANA ONLY WITHOUT THE LANGUAGE GAP.

~~

SETTING THE TONE - Author's attitude towards the subject and towards the reader.

+KINDS OF TONE:
Didactic: Intended for instruction.
Formal: being in accordance with usual arrangements and requirements.
Informal:not according to the prescribed, official, or customary way or manner; irregular; unofficial
Intimate: Associated with personal relationships--very personal, and private.
Solemn: Grave, somber, mirthless--SERIOUS formality
Playful: Pleasantly humourous, jesting
Serious: Earnest, sincere character, not trifling, grave, somber, in deep thought
Ironic: Coincedental, unexpected
Condescending: showing or implying a usually patronizing descent from dignity or superiority
Courteous: Having, or showing good manners; polite.
Sympathetic: Acting or affected by a special affinity or mutual relationship
Lenient: Agreeably tolerant, permissive, indulgent.
Critical: Inclined to find fault or to judge with severity often too readily, involving skillful judgement as to truth, merit; judicial

Objective: Something that one's efforts or actions are intended to obtain or accomplish a purpose, a goal or target

Emotional: Pertaining to or involving emotion(s)

Cold: Lacking in passion, emotion, enthusiasm, ardor; dispassionate.

Distant: Remote, far off in any respect, reserved, aloof, not familiar or cordial.

Polite: Showing good manners towards others in behavior and speech; refined, cultured

Impolite: NOT polite or courteous xD

Cutting: Penetrating, dividing, wounding the feelings severely

Gentle: Amiable, moderate, gradual, soft, refined.

Amused: Pleasurably entertained, occupied or diverted; aroused to mirth

Insolent: Boldly rude or disrespectful, contemptuously impertinent; insulting

Blustering: Loud, arrogant, bullying manner; to brag and make empty threats

Modest: Making/Showing humble estimates of one's merit or importance; free from ostentation/showy extravagance

Indifferent: Without interest, concern, bias, prejudice, preference; apathetic, impartial, disinterested.

Contemptuous: Showing/expressing contempt or disdain/scornful

Disapproving: To (think) something wrong or reprehensible; censure or condemn in opinion

Sarcastic: Biting, cutting, mordant, bitter, derisive, ironic, sardonic

Kindly: Benevolent disposition; pleasant, agreeable




PS:
Don't mind the ninja invading the images. He's currently in my mind at the moment. DAMN YOU STRIDER. D:

Here are the Lyrics to the additional song in No More Heroes. Its called The Virgin Child Makes Her Wish Without Feeling Anything. I like the lyrics, and Dr. Peace sings it pretty damn well. 'Nice set of pipes you got there, ol man' xD

“Despair, The End of the World
I Hear The Rising Phoenix In My Dream.
And The Virgin Child Made A Wish Upon a Star,
That Night Her Mother Talks no More.

Keep A Hold The End of the Dream
A Shining Face Splashes in a Stream
And The Virgin Child Loses Her Heart and Soul
That Night Her Mother's Eyes See no More.

When the Wind Blows, a Virgin Child Comes Sing A Song.
Such a Pretty Melody Never Heard Before.

No More Lullabies.
The Virgin just as the Night."

I might put up some Travis Touchdown in my next post, along with some writing excerpts. That was my MAIN reason why I got this blog in the first place D:

....D:

Eleven - Importance Of Tact

(Current Time: 9:49 Am, 2nd Blk)

(Current Sounds: 'DND-Do Not Destroy' by Masafumi Takada)

Musings and some Homework. Maybe. I dunno:

Taking a break from the Poetry for 30 Days thing. (WILL GET HER HEAD IN TROUBLE FOR THAT ONE)

I guess I kind of wanted to state my thoughts about finding a theme in writing. It was in my previous English class, so I guess I should just put it out in the open.

Okay, ANY GOOD STORY OR NEWS ARTICLE will have some sort of theme into it. Especially if it's the kind of writing's that make you think about what you're doing...an opinion article~! xD

Be warned. These are some pretty interesting/boring notes. I'm interested about them--and kind of bored of them all at the same time.

According to the notes I have, a theme is the main idea, message or meaning of a literary work. The theme is the message the story presents. The author will not tell you what the theme is. He/She will reveal it to you through the other elements of the short story: characters, setting, plot and point of view.

The theme is found out by carefully observing the story's events, where it takes place, the characters and what they're like, and whether they change or not, the narrator and his/her attitude towards things, the writing style and any symbols that appear.

A THEME IS NOT THE SAME AS THE SUBJECT OR A SUMMARY OF THE ACTION. 

Its really the statement of the way things are or how they should be. Its the author's reflection on a universal truth. Its the THING that surrounds us.

(>.> I...really still don't get what I'm reading here...)

The shortest way to name a theme is with a word or phrase. Say a story is grief-filled, or coming of age, or coping with loss. It...doesn't go too far: the real question is "What about grief, or coming of age or coping with loss?" 

What does the story have to tell us about its theme idea?

--Thus there came along a theme statement/theme sentence. Its more of the complete whole than a theme idea, and one that really tells the story's message. After carefully reading the story, and examining the character, setting, plot and point of view, you will be able to write one or two sentences about the theme.

-HOW TO IDENTIFY THEME

+Character: 

-What happens to the main character in the story?

-Does he/she change during the story?

-What forces bring about the change?

-Is the character sympathetic? Why or why not?

+Setting:

-Is the setting important to the story?

+Plot:

-What kind of conflict is in the story?

-How is the conflict resolved?

-HOW MANY THEMES CAN A STORY HAVE?

Novels can have various themes. There could only be one for a short story, since most short stories don't have subplots and multiple issues going on. However there can be different ideas about what the one theme is. They can all be related but different all at the same time. There's often more than one right answer, though some answers may be closer to the writer's intent than others.

*A REALLY good theme statement has several characteristics.

-Its a whole sentence, a statement, not just a word or phrase.

-It accounts for the major evnts of the story, not just certain ones.

-It applies beyond the confines of the story. That is, it could apply to other people, perhaps us. That means it doesn't specifically name the people or events  in the story, but it is more general.

-Its not a cliche or too obvious. "Don't judge a book by its cover" is trite and superficial, so it wouldn't be a good theme statement.

How to avoid making bad theme statements:

*Don't make it too vague!

*Don't make it too short and incomplete.

*Don't account for one event in a complex story.

*Try not making the statement into a moral.

*PLOT SUMMARIES ARE THE SUCK. They don't convey any message at all.

Try to cover the major points of the story. They are worded in a general way, so they could apply to real people. They are what we take to be the author's overall message.

I'll try to find some good anime and try to get three theme statements for them...laaaaater.

>.>;

I swear, I'll read this, and then laugh at myself for the wasted effort. Ho well--its saved for my convienience xD

-kiwi

PS: For you gamers out there (the ones with a Wii, really), REALLY, GO GET NO MORE HEROES.

...Because you'll be left in the dust when NMH2: Desperate Struggle comes out :D

Ten - Treason

(Current Time: 7:15 Pm, House)
(Current Sounds: TV, and the whir of the comp*



Musings and Homework:

I will try to make this short, because she was told not to put REALLY personal thoughts into this blog. No one likes listening to a girl who has problems. It's deemed annoying and bothersome. Rather, the observers would like to read about the latest crush, the most saddest poem...or, hell. Their bowel movements.

No one would like hearing about my problems anyways. I'm too selfish if I do that. So, I'll just instead put down the metaphoric points for my Learning Guide for Writing.

THAT'LL get your attention. Mostly my work is better than my thoughts anyways.

~~
Things You Need when you're a Karate student:

Belt: This piece of colored cloth isn't just that--it holds you. Its your attitude throughout your training and your karate life. It defines who you are--for attitude makes up for what you do, and what you think.

Teacher (Sensei): Trust your Sensei. This person holds the knowledge that is passed down from many generations--and is willing to teach you patiently those ways as well, so that you can practice them to near perfection. Also, it is also necessary to learn from your teacher, because you too may become an example to a future pupil someday.

Moves: A single punch, a roundhouse kick--they all symbolize the imagination. There are many ways to use your hands and feet as your empty handed weapons--in order to affiliated yourself, you must teach yourself diverse moves to broaden your mind.

Gym (Dojo): This is your primary setting, your home ground. The Dojo is usually covered with mirrors and wooden floored, so that you can come to grips with both your bare feet--and your reflection. You must be able to fight in any situation you are under.

Uniform: Your white uniform reflects who you are--but it is quite different from a belt. When you enter the dojo, you are not what you are anymore--you are the clear reflection of a training Karate student. You are sharpening yourself up to be the warrior you are trying to be.

Punching Bag: All students make mistakes. No one is perfect--that is what training teaches us. You train yourself on this bag to strengthen yourself; we make mistakes, but we are able to change ourselves in order to prevent making more. It lessens our worries and helps us be aware of our actions.

Meditation: Uncontrolled emotions can get in the way while training. A student is urged to meditate in order to wrap their hands around their feelings. A student must empty his or her mind, so that when they're back to train, their emotions are more in their hands and they are able to think more clearly.

Weapons: The many weapons a skilled karate student uses give more ideas to what they can do. A weapon is just an extension of your hand--therefore, with weapons, you can use more techniques you've never knew were possible.

Matches: When a student reaches a level, they are required to try their skills in a tournament, particularly a match. Students are pressured easily to take risks that they think are impossible to leap over, but in the end, the student learn they can take the challenge on with renewed conscience.

Medal: When a student receives this in a tournament, it boosts their confidence and motivation. Receiving a medal raises a student's expectations about themselves--but they are urged not to use that as their consideration; it is really the exhilaration of being in a match that should be worth the effort to praise.

-kiwi

~~

PS:

...I really DO need someone to talk to.
Tis why I'm relieved tomorrow is when I'm finally going to see my outside counselor ag--
....oh right.
Never mind. I'll just use this:

Nine - Brick Wall Insolence

(Current Time: 3:58 PM, Home)
(Current Sounds: Mom bitching, and Homestar Runner dialogue)

Musings (more so venting):

Here we go. HOMEWORK. Finally, huh?

Here is my Theme statement paragraph for my English project (Count Cain Saga)...but before that.

Honestly, I don't know why my mother keeps using me as her excuse for her pain all these years. I really can't take it that she keeps reminding me of the fuck-up I am.Thank you for stating the obvious, Mother, but your tone never seems to persuade what kind of choices I make. Or what I'm forced to make. She expects so much out of me. Why does she complain about what we need, when we actually DO need to get some parental consent on some of the things we do? It's stupid. She hates giving pity.

Dad also drills into my head that I'm always the one that causes my younger brother and sister the 'pain they go through.' Yet, Dad and Mom tells THEM that they have to give a shit about themselves. What the hell?

I underSTAND that you're tired, oh greedy parents. You expect a lot of things, responsibility, patience, intregrity, the fucking works. You expect a grown up appeal from me.

They think I'm not doing work. Why must they presume? Why do they always think I'M presuming my excuses?

"Its for your own good, because you're screwed up"

How the fuck's that gonna help me?

She uses other people as 'better people'...and uses me as the worst example there is. He just yells at me that I'll never change myself. Never.

She wants a future, but what the hell? Shoot me down more, will ya, and you'll get a nice future!

She really doesn't like the small efforts we make. She expects Big Bangs to come out of our work. Does she expect a perfect daughter. I would think not, but she makes me believe that whenever she drastically points out a girl who's more skilled and educated than myself. She's pretty much fucking telling me that 'Oh, I'm SOOO much better than you. You could never be like that!'

Try as I might, I try to get as much attention as I can. I'm scared of the spotlight, yet yearn silently for a night of our own.

And she still hates what I'm doing. She still thinks I haven't done fuck all--why in general? Why fucking drill me to the ground when I'm trying as much as I can?

There's no point yelling at someone who wants to change. They just lost their patience with me. Who can blame them? I've pretty much lost the trust I've lived my whole life upon to their beliefs and what has been hurting me.

I...honestly don't know what to do with myself now. Just why keep bothering with a fuck-up like me, huh parents?

Why bother trying to fix me when all you've really been doing is hurting the conscious I'm still trying to keep alive?

...

ugh, enough of this. Time for that Theme Statement.

~~


Godchild Theme Statement (of which WILL be edited to the English 12 standard....laaaater.)

Cain Hargreaves received the title of Earl at the young age of twelve. He took this title graciously because moments earlier, he just killed his abusive father by means of poisoning his pipe and then his father took a suicidal plunge into the sea. Young Cain had his reasons in doing such a cruel event, other than the fact that his father Alexis hates him. Cain's a cursed child; he's born out of incestuous rape, conceived by his maniac mother Augusta and Alexis (her younger brother). His eyes are green with gold flecks (showing he's an incest child), and due to the fact that Augusta went insane because of giving birth to Cain, Alexis hates him for that. Cain is whipped on the back every night by Alexis, being reminded that God punished Cain for what he was.


The love that Cain experiences in this series is bar-none DIVERSE. He has his undying bond with Riff, his manservant, who swore to protect him from any harm and will even follow him to Hell just to be by his side and give him happiness. In truth, Riff really was the one whom Cain received any love from. Cain wanted to cling to something that'll make his torturous life worthwhile, and Riff gave him that love that he really deserved.


Cain's love to Merry, his half-sister, is what she describes as 'a cage.' Cain shows over protective behavior when it comes to Merry's safety, but Merry takes it as some form of preliminary judgement that she's not able to go out wherever she wanted. Through some adventures, she slowly learns that Cain's selfish actions are to ensure she is safe and sound from the murders and bloody conflicts he always gets himself in. She in turn, keeps a smile in her face, welcoming her brother with the love of a sister wanting her brother to be happy.



Cain's relationship with Jezabel, his older half-brother, is rocky. Jezabel was a child who grew up expecting his father Alexis' love--only to be crushed down by the same father who tells him 'his love is reserved for his true son--Cain.' Jezabel hates Cain for taking that love he wanted, and proceeds to try killing Cain by all means possible.

Throughout the series, Cain is tested again and again about what love is to him. His father shows him by those punishing sessions with the whip that he'll never grasp the fortunes and paradise of having someone care about his existence. Riff and Merry, on the contrary, protect Cain from whatever tries to harm the Earl by their own special way. For Cain, his definition of a family is scarred and tainted with sorrow for himself and others but slowly heals to a better light when his makeshift family--that he makes on his own--provides him with the security and belonging he always dreamed of.



~~
Poetry in 30 Days
Day 8: Elegies and Memories

-Elegy writing time! Pick a significant event or person who has given enough effect towards you. Don't necessarily approach something too extreme. Take something you can handle

Half-Pain (Losing Sleep)

There is something in this musty bed panel
That makes me set my heart ablaze with
Feelings of lost regret and taken up this
Cross of self-bothersome doubt.
How could I lay my weary body on a cruel
Bed built entirely on soft foam and needles?
When I could travel up the staircase of
Heaven and search elsewhere to regain
The dreams above the sun drenched clouds.
I sit in this chair thinking of only that,
Eyes lidded to shut down running business
Arms swinging, threatening nearby individuals
I've lost my body's remote control. The most
Treasured one of all: my conscious mind,
Who once leaped through fields of triumph,
Now too tired to lift its head and
Laugh at herself for what sins I've
Taken in like unwelcome guests.
For as I look towards the pink
Stardusted lamp for advice, it only tells me seriously
My back's prone to snap into burnable twig matter.
Why can't I summon enough heart
To tell the bosses of the Kingdom
that I'm not only frustrated at my
Insane mind to keep on;
I also want to return to the simple
Sheep-leaping land of lilies,
Promising me I'll be grateful for
The new nest in the beautiful dawn.

-next assignment:
Write a poem using a specific meter. The meter can be of your own choosing or even your own making, as long as you put a pattern into place.

"I now not know whether or not he is mine, or I am his."




~~
-kiwi

Eight In the Mirror - Jealous About Her Stupid Attractiveness

(Current Time: 12:57 Pm, 4th Blk)
(Current Sounds: Some music by Masafumi Takeda)



Musings:

Goodness. I should find more 'No More Heroes' sounds. I really love this game. Thank goodness for my brother borrowing games for my obsession entetainment



Its a Wii game, obviously (I get a kick when I swing the remote and Travis *main character* swings his Beam Katana and slices all our enemies in bloody explosive bits. Its a good vent.



The main story is about this otaku/wrestling nerd named Travis Touchdown. (anyone else think his last name sounds SO pornographic?). He wins a Beam Katana in this Internet auction and decides 'Whoopty shit! I wanna become an assassin!" Which should help him, cuz of his motel household and scraping his savings for the next meal for both himself and his cat Jeane.

He then gets under a contract by the means of the vixen in the game: Sylvia Criestel. Who's got this thick French accent that pisses my sister off. (and me too. eck. just hearing her voice crackle in our Wii remote sounds like a train running over some crickets)

Anyways, the main thing that's standing in Travis' way of becoming the number one assassin is the top ten assassins of the assassin organization he's a part of (Sheesh, the assassin count is hilarious)

He gets to fight a tattoed old guy, a magnum blasting old guy, an albino black school girl chick (who holds a KATANA xD), a super-bad anti-villian, a one legged grenade specialist, a punkrocker (whom we SHOULD'VE FOUGHT), a crazy magician, a REALLY old fat lady with a cannon gun as her sexual excuse, a really really BAD girl in Lolita clothing (Trust me, she's a BITCH)

And well, it gets spoilery. I won't get into the details, but the end is covered with fourth wall breakings. Its truly a good game--I'd love to borrow it again



This game absloutely fucking AMUSES me. Here are some interesting things you do in the game:



THIS is how you save the game. Typically, yes I understand this. Take a dump to 'release all that shit you had to go through.'

My favourite assassin out of all of them. I might cosplay her someday

KIWI ADVISES Y'ALL TO GET IT.

On a further note. I hate the name 'Stacy'. That'll give ya hints as to how I'm feeling at the moment.

~~
Poetry In 30 Days
Day 7: Forms and Lists

-Its a list poem! It msut use a single line for each item on the list.

*A list of names for your baby.

Rebirth

Alba, a dawning sunrise, ready to take on the world
Zachary, someone has remembered this man
Benedetta, be blessed with this feeling
Yuuki, a gentle hope of beginning once more
Cain, crafting these wings to soar, young boy!
Xolani, forgive her in pardon, she will try
Dai, beloved, do not cry
Wilhelmina, be strong, your will is your greatest weapon
Ezra, you are my cry for salvation
Verina, truth is hidden amongst your heart
Fai, begin you life with dreams, son
Unika, a goddes in your own right
Greg, watching over me like a vigilante
Tara, like a rolling hillside, a rocksteady tower
Haruka, a faraway, distant love
Soiree, moonlight washes over your childish face
Ida, a hardworking individual
Raine, hail this child from heaven above
Jezabel, unexalted from creation
Quincy, descendent and true
Katerina, pure and quiet filled
Pallas, youthful, never leave your childish steps behind
Lukia, as graceful as your butterfly wings
Oswald, ruling fist like the gods
Mythri, gaining a new friendship
Noah, resting place, my peaceful child

-next assignment:
Elegy time! Write about a person or event that is meaningful to you. Don't neccessarily approach the most tragic event in your lfie. Look for something you can handle

PS: Heavenly Star by Genki Rockets is LOVE



-kiwi

Eight - Devilish Heroism

(Current Time: 9:47 Am, 1st Blk)

(Current Sounds: F-Zero GX OST)

Musings:

asdfgh--arrgh. I hate drafts, but its all for the work, ain't it, harsh reality?

I'll do my usual poem later on in the day. I'll work on my character sketch first.

--

Character Sketch #1

-Twin Brother, But Not Really

If only my brother would stand still for just an hour or two, than I wouldn't have to jot his quickened qualities every second of the day. The only times I ever get to see the guy was at breaking dawn when I barely get the chance to get up--and the late twilight hours before I hit the hay. He likes entering and exiting during those times because its like birth and death to him. He'll enter, experience life's thrills and die in conscious mind in his pallet bed.

He got his lone cowboy attitude from our mentor, Fate. I think he's been like that even before we met him.

He oozes with cool whenever he talks to the gang, like real brothers.

He has this asshole habit of slicking his red dyed hair like the snooty bad-ass guys in the biker movies we used to watch endlessly when we were kids.

He never liked weight training but has hidden this secret fascination with hot yoga that only I knew about.

He despises jeans. He must've been a snobbish girl in his past life: "Jeans would make my thighs look like a chicken ready for the slaughter house."

He would never show off during any of our Texas Hold 'Em sessions. He believed in "gunning them all down with silence and tactics."

When he gets the time, which is rarely due to work, he loves playing with our twin kittens, Yin and Yang--especially with the small pink and yellow horsetail he bought exclusively for them. I sometimes wonder how he can arrange a guy's teeth and jaws with his bare hands, but use those same hands to stroke the salt and pepper fur of a smaller guy than him. He's a pity giving man.

He always corrected people whenever they asked about his fighting style: "Its not traditional boxing. Its not even Karate. It's Chinese kenpo boxing WITH karate." Someday, his sharp-bladed tongue might cut a thick head clean someday.

He held his alcohol in, a brave act to do when in a bar. He had, what my friend Rock

observed, 'a bladder made of whale's skin.'

He looked weird with one of my cowboy hats on his head. He looked even weirder when he cropped his hair really short. His shoulder length hair made him the all-mighty figure he is.

Whenever we got the chance after a late-night party, he would drive me on some foreign road away from South-Town and just keep his foot steady on the pedal, driving on endless strips of road until the sun rose. Then he'd stop at the dirt side and just watch the rays glow slowly onto his red sports car and the world around it.

He's made it a tradition to watch Saturday morning cartoons. Even when he's called in to patrol, he manages at least one episode of 'Mignon and Athena!' before heading off, satisfied.

He hates fish. Especially sashimi. I swear to God, I think he has the body of a Hollywood star, but the tastes of a picky castaway.

He can undergo a full head on beating at his body, but can still look cool about it. On the contrary, he's afraid of needles and being wrapped up, because he'll look like an 'old cad' that had given up too easily.

His closet is filled to the hanging brim with leather jackets that he collected since he was 14. Most of them are red, black and lightning covered blue. He had a thing to look 'flashy' and 'smooth' all at the same time.

Fate's sunglasses is Alba's tool for radically altering others' impression on himself. He hid his eyes so he can't let the folks push him around. Maybe he wore them because he was strong enough to hide behind a wall of plastic orange infrared lenses. Maybe he wore them because he was guilty of Fate's assassination and wore them as an eternal oath for vengeance.
He won't tell me, but whatever the answer, it was something that made people wonder why they asked in the first place. His signature shades were his reluctant, underdog appearance of a real turf leader.

Which is why I should understand what Alba goes through each and every day in the streets. Trying to keep his status up to date with handling the peace ain't such like a day like plucking daisies. He knows he's handling Danger's horns, and I appreciate it. He's taking care of the citizens underground, and that's what I respect. He's been like this since we escaped the orphanage all those years ago--he helps from behind the sidelines and gets credited like the silent hero he is.

~~

Feedback is appreciated :3

Poem will come up later today.

-kiwi

Seven - Gravedigging

(Current Time: 9:46 Am, 2nd Blk)

(Current Sounds: Trigun OST, 'Stuttering' by Bens Brother)

Musings:

Today, I''m going to see an outside counsellor, in order for me to see what's wrong with me. Yeah, I'm QUITE aware of that--it's just that I hope that others will notice it too.

I wrote something last night--that doesn't sound like me at all, but I wrote it....so I guess I did...I was really feeling and anxiety last night. I don't even think I should write it down here, because people might look and say 'there's something incredibly wrong with this person.'

(kind of why i'm getting the counseling, ain't it?)

It really wasn't me:

October 1, 2008 (last night)

i wanted to say what i really felt about today.

first of all, i'm quite aware i'm never going to be good enough. it's been that way since you've made it official, gold printed and stamped in a bright neon color in my mind.

i know you're expecting me to mess up sooner or later because i'm taking my jail time like it was a comedy stand up.

i hate it when i'm right.

i look at most of my classmates and wonder all the time: Why do they get the happiness? They fight for it without actually fighting for it.

for me, i don't know if happiness is by my side nowadays. its tricking my naive mind, telling me i'll only hurt myself much more if i keep resenting and rebelling.

i'll never be the person you imagined to be.

because i'll never be worth anything.

you just wanted a child who'd listen to every beck and call, like a puppy towards its master. 

have i told you i've had my days when i've retrieved the bone and yet you've kicked me away?

you don't even listen to what i've wanted desperately to say. it's hurting more and more once you open up the ripped wounds.

i'm also under the gun, trying to be happy around those that still matter to me--well, the ones i'm hoping i won't push away.

i don't want to become an outsider by my fault.

once again, your words haunt me.

i'll look at the widescreen and simply laugh at a family who knows how they'll get through.

whenever i look at a family portrait, i always cross myself out in my mind. i demand to always be the photographer.

i always look like the odd one out of any group picture i'm in. i just suck the happiness out of it.

which is funny; why do i take it away, when i know i'm killing myself for it.

does that make me an attention whore?

am i simply asking rudely to be seen?

i admit, i'm a shy, introverted person. but i always want my face somewhere.

i fight for the spotlight but in my mindset, its already set i'm doomed to be a bridesmaid.

do i deserve sympathy? of course not.

this is a problem i'm only causing myself.

i'm not happy with myself.

i never was. i always look down at finished work and told myself "this could've been done better." i always let myself down.

because i've lost the ability to see what good i've made and will become.

can i fix it?

should i?

will it save me?

will i truly ever be happy?

~~

Poetry In 30 Days

Day 6: Developing Your Voice

(Take five minutes to meditate in a quiet room, free of outside influences before writing the poem. Try to clear your head of stray thoughts. Once you feel like you are calm and clear, write. Let the topic be about whatever comes to mind after meditation.)

Lunar Shower

Far across the depths of an unborn excess of space

A soul lingers about

Her toes are gripping hard to silk sands of time lost.

Her hair is waving like a white flag, surrendering her

Childhood innocence

There is a sense of both renewal

And redemption, in the star-bullet sky

She still could hear the vast echo of well forgotten

Souls that interacted with hers when

She was once alive

In this deep, heavenly serenity

She's gaining her obsession to know

But leaving her feelings to live

Not so long ago

She would've held longingly for heart ache

In this dark, endless serenity

Her heart is now not hers to take.

-next assignment: List poem! make it so that it uses a single line for each item on the list.

~~

-kiwi