Birth of a Dream : MPC 60B
Mar 28, 2019 15:40:27 GMT
Post by Zachary "Zaber" Scryer on Mar 28, 2019 15:40:27 GMT
MPC Name: From your Point of view
MPC Number:60B
Reward Requested: Posts
Another miserable day-- that is exactly what it was for me. I moved through the halls with my head down and my book bag dragging behind me. I didn't care. I didn't want to think about it. It was bad enough being a transfer student, to Japan of all places to attend high school. I hate the uniforms too. What is it with schools in japans and needs to wear a school uniform? Its times like this I miss the United States. Sure Japan has some good points, but right now I freaking hate it.
Or perhaps because it's all the same. No matter where you go in this world, bullies exist everywhere. I learned that the hard way in England, so in Italy, why would Japan be any different. It was bad enough that my assignment was a bit different from others since I had another perspective on the matter, but then a few jerks from my class had the gall to upright say I was an idiot for wanting to broach a topic on Ethics. Even though the teacher didn't mind, opinions like that just were hurtful. Then they had the gall to call my nationality stupid...
... with our present president, I couldn't blame the thought but still...
I had enough. The moment the bell rang, I ditched the class and got the hell out of there.
There was one place I could go, and I didn't care if I got in trouble for skipping a class. I needed time to think. Anywhere, and there was only one place I usually went to.
The walls of books, shelves, and desks were all around in the library. It was a sanctuary for me to find peace and not be bothered by anyone since the first rule of the library was no talking. I tossed off my jacket behind one of the chairs, sank down in it, and dropped my backpack soundly on the table without really caring.
My head fell into my arms as I took a moment to close my eyes, exhausted and hurt. What little tears that were held behind my eyes. It sucked being alone and not having a single friend to turn to. At best I could go online and chat with my friends there-- but it isn't the same than having them with you, in the real world. Out of all my transfers, I only truly had two friends and left them when I moved.
After what felt like five minutes of a self-grieving nap, I lifted my head and tried to do something productive with this solitude. I dug through my bag and searched for the notebook I carried with me everywhere. I opened the blue notebook, marked with decals and scratches on it to reveal a series of notes, stories, and pictures I drew laced around the college ruled lines that crossed its pages. With a pen in hand, I wrote out my feelings. Simple words, simple venting to control my pain.
It was a trick I did to let out my frustration. Even that didn't really feel good. I didn't even finish the complete sentences.
I fished for one more item-- my headphones attached to my smartphone. With a quick check over my shoulders, I looked for any librarian teachers so they wouldn't see, then slipped it on.
One thing I had to admit about Japan, it was easier to get access to the rare original soundtracks from my favorite animes that existed here without paying a ton of cash for importing costs.
With more positive tunes flowing through my head, I felt my own creative juices start to flow. The surge in my head fueling the images I saw in my mind, encouraging the creation of something new. My imagination was at times a blessing and a curse, but in this case, I choose to nurture it.
My pen began to move along with the music as I began to make a sketch of one of my favorite 'characters'. A creature inspired by when my family and I had to travel through South America. The lore of jaguars and how they were holy figures of the Aztec gods made me really consider the idea of making them mythical creatures. My pen began to move to form the arched back of an animal, leading to a smooth and black tail. Four legs bent into paws and a cat-like face that had piercing eyes shaped just so to cut through and stare back at me.
The creature on my page was a jaguar, black in color-- now that I had brought out my colored pencils. The small space I had huddled into was quickly littered with my art supplies as I used the pencils to color in the creature. However, I stopped. It wasn't enough. I had to add something that made him more mystical. I paused, touching my lip with my pen's end to think.
It then dawned on me what I could use. I soon added bracers to its front paws, with bright red rubies on them to make them shine and seem regal. Finally, a golden ring or something placed on his back paw. And a final touch, I soon added a hazy black mist that swirled around the jungle cat, as if night crept along with the cat's movements.
I looked at my work, feeling a sense of nostalgia and happiness at the creature I made in my book. While loving all animals, I had an appreciation for cats and their elegant complexity. It reminded me of the stray black cat I had once approached. I didn't care people said they were bad luck-- I approached it without fear and it purred in appreciation as I pet it.
In many cultures, I learned creatures associated with darkness and night weren't exclusively evil. It was why I found a soft spot with this character. A magical panther that would guard those at night. A just guardian, protecting others in the dark when one could not see.
As I began to write out details and descriptions of what it could do and what it was like... I heard the next bell ring. My pen left an ink stain as it was pressed too hard on the paper from the sudden sound.
I paused for a moment and realized if I skipped two classes in a row, I would have hell to pay later. I quickly packed up my pencils and pen, shoved my notebook and phone into my bag and quickly made my way towards history class.
MPC Number:60B
Reward Requested: Posts
Another miserable day-- that is exactly what it was for me. I moved through the halls with my head down and my book bag dragging behind me. I didn't care. I didn't want to think about it. It was bad enough being a transfer student, to Japan of all places to attend high school. I hate the uniforms too. What is it with schools in japans and needs to wear a school uniform? Its times like this I miss the United States. Sure Japan has some good points, but right now I freaking hate it.
Or perhaps because it's all the same. No matter where you go in this world, bullies exist everywhere. I learned that the hard way in England, so in Italy, why would Japan be any different. It was bad enough that my assignment was a bit different from others since I had another perspective on the matter, but then a few jerks from my class had the gall to upright say I was an idiot for wanting to broach a topic on Ethics. Even though the teacher didn't mind, opinions like that just were hurtful. Then they had the gall to call my nationality stupid...
... with our present president, I couldn't blame the thought but still...
I had enough. The moment the bell rang, I ditched the class and got the hell out of there.
There was one place I could go, and I didn't care if I got in trouble for skipping a class. I needed time to think. Anywhere, and there was only one place I usually went to.
The walls of books, shelves, and desks were all around in the library. It was a sanctuary for me to find peace and not be bothered by anyone since the first rule of the library was no talking. I tossed off my jacket behind one of the chairs, sank down in it, and dropped my backpack soundly on the table without really caring.
My head fell into my arms as I took a moment to close my eyes, exhausted and hurt. What little tears that were held behind my eyes. It sucked being alone and not having a single friend to turn to. At best I could go online and chat with my friends there-- but it isn't the same than having them with you, in the real world. Out of all my transfers, I only truly had two friends and left them when I moved.
After what felt like five minutes of a self-grieving nap, I lifted my head and tried to do something productive with this solitude. I dug through my bag and searched for the notebook I carried with me everywhere. I opened the blue notebook, marked with decals and scratches on it to reveal a series of notes, stories, and pictures I drew laced around the college ruled lines that crossed its pages. With a pen in hand, I wrote out my feelings. Simple words, simple venting to control my pain.
It was a trick I did to let out my frustration. Even that didn't really feel good. I didn't even finish the complete sentences.
I fished for one more item-- my headphones attached to my smartphone. With a quick check over my shoulders, I looked for any librarian teachers so they wouldn't see, then slipped it on.
One thing I had to admit about Japan, it was easier to get access to the rare original soundtracks from my favorite animes that existed here without paying a ton of cash for importing costs.
With more positive tunes flowing through my head, I felt my own creative juices start to flow. The surge in my head fueling the images I saw in my mind, encouraging the creation of something new. My imagination was at times a blessing and a curse, but in this case, I choose to nurture it.
My pen began to move along with the music as I began to make a sketch of one of my favorite 'characters'. A creature inspired by when my family and I had to travel through South America. The lore of jaguars and how they were holy figures of the Aztec gods made me really consider the idea of making them mythical creatures. My pen began to move to form the arched back of an animal, leading to a smooth and black tail. Four legs bent into paws and a cat-like face that had piercing eyes shaped just so to cut through and stare back at me.
The creature on my page was a jaguar, black in color-- now that I had brought out my colored pencils. The small space I had huddled into was quickly littered with my art supplies as I used the pencils to color in the creature. However, I stopped. It wasn't enough. I had to add something that made him more mystical. I paused, touching my lip with my pen's end to think.
It then dawned on me what I could use. I soon added bracers to its front paws, with bright red rubies on them to make them shine and seem regal. Finally, a golden ring or something placed on his back paw. And a final touch, I soon added a hazy black mist that swirled around the jungle cat, as if night crept along with the cat's movements.
I looked at my work, feeling a sense of nostalgia and happiness at the creature I made in my book. While loving all animals, I had an appreciation for cats and their elegant complexity. It reminded me of the stray black cat I had once approached. I didn't care people said they were bad luck-- I approached it without fear and it purred in appreciation as I pet it.
In many cultures, I learned creatures associated with darkness and night weren't exclusively evil. It was why I found a soft spot with this character. A magical panther that would guard those at night. A just guardian, protecting others in the dark when one could not see.
As I began to write out details and descriptions of what it could do and what it was like... I heard the next bell ring. My pen left an ink stain as it was pressed too hard on the paper from the sudden sound.
I paused for a moment and realized if I skipped two classes in a row, I would have hell to pay later. I quickly packed up my pencils and pen, shoved my notebook and phone into my bag and quickly made my way towards history class.
