Friday, September 3, 2004

*sigh*
2 days, just 2 days, then its back to months of homework, and waking up early, and....people. *shudder* Well actually I don't think'll it'll be that bad, when I went to the orientation, the guy (whatever his name is) spent pratically a whole 15 minutes telling us that they encourage differences and that its alright to be who you are blah de blah de blah. Like people are really going to care when school starts T_T

Anywho took a tour of the school with 2 W.E.B leaders ( Welcome Everybody) and I don't think I'll have as much trouble getting lost. I like what I saw, we have our own elevator for those who have broken a leg or are handicapped (there are two floors). The library has sofas and the computer room has dell pcs. The 8th graders seem nice enough but I bet they'll forget all about us little 7th graders when school starts. But the school is nice, we have a snack bar and although some classrooms look really small the school itself is very pretty and I will be happy to go there. No matter how much the principal brags about how this school is possibly the nicest middle school complex he has ever seen.

Thats all today. Lest I have to edit to add something else...oh wait.

I found a great site for making scrollbars. All you have to do is type in the colors you want your scrollbar to be (theres a color guide if you don't know the hex form) and then click the button that says " Make it" and instantly the text area below fills up with the HTML tag for the scrollbar you want. Cool no? I'm trying it out today if it works on myotaku, but if it doesn't it'll probably work on any other site you own. Or live journal you own.
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Tuesday, August 31, 2004

Just A Thought
A month or two ago Brenna and I were reading an onine journal. This girl was writing about how she tried to commit suicide a few days ago because she had no friends and no one like her. After reading it, something in me sorta snapped and got really angry at whoever that girl was and this thought came out of nowhere.

Why should we care about stupid people who have no idea how valuable life is? Instead or wasting time and energy trying to get them to not do suicide why don't we just let them end their misery? Why worry, the world has better things to worry about. Besides there are thousands of people in the world, one less isn't gonna hurt. More resources for the logical people.

And so ends my train of thought.
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Thursday, August 26, 2004

Sorry for not Updating
Okay well I haven't been updating lately so sorry about that. But anyway so far, nothing much has been going on. Anyway here are the latest in my world:

A few weeks ago my Aunt and Uncle threw a party for my grandparents who had recently arrived from Philippines. Being the nice, kind, and helpful person I am (yeah right) I decided to bake a cake and some brownies to go with it. And so the task began.

A few minutes later the cake lay cooling and the brownies were just about done. When I reached to pull them out of the oven (with mitts of course) the uncovered part of my wrist hit the iron bar thing. My friend finished taking the brownies out while I nursed my horrid wound.

Anyway the burn swelled and turned into this giant bubbly thing and it popped and then my friend accidentally bumped against me and scraped off the skin and now theres this healing scar thing. The end. ( You should be happy I didn't go through it in detail)

For the more better news I am starting school September 7, 2004. I will be procedding to a new middle school. Newly built. They tore the old one down cause it was old. Just yesterday I got my class arrangement:

1st Period- Honors English
2nd Period- PE (T_T)
3rd Period- Pre Algebra
4th Period- Honors Science
5th Period- Computer Projects
6th Period- World History Honors

*shudder* I will admit I am scared out of my wits. I hope the teachers are nice. T_T Otherwise.......methinks I will faint from the horror!! Of what lies ahead of my traumatic experience as I journey through time. (I'm rather dramatic, if you had not already noticed.)
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Wednesday, August 18, 2004

   Boardwalk
Today was as interesting as my life gets. But today we were going to the Boardwalk, so we were rushing a bit and when we got to my friends cousins house we left for the boardwalk. Here comes the interesting part.

I DO NOT LIKE RIDES! [Note from Brenna: That''s pure breed insanity.]

And it just so happens they decided ( My friend, Brenna, and her two cousins, Leah and Devon) that they would force me into the rides. I was not happy. For me, I would just like to sit on the beach, take a nap, maybe get some food, buuut nooooo!!! Anyway it was alright until we went to this thing called Fright Walk. I am a chicken and proud to admit it. I thought it would be all fun and all that but when we went it, my heart stopped.

There were walls closing in all around and the only opening was a mirror like entrace that had a head right in front of you. God I wish that was the only scary thing. Brenna was in front with me holding her and being her eyes because she had shut them and refused to open them. Then came the hall of mirrors. We couldn't find a walkway and there were shadows in the mirrors and... I saw a reflection of a man on one of the mirrors. Brenna lost it. She was all screaming, "Quit messing with my brain, you *censored*!" We kicked our way through. I was panicking; it was darkness all around with no end [note from Brenna: She really kept her cool. Devon was spazing. I'm not trying to make her look like an everyday hero, but man! She sure is. And if you erase this note, harusame, I'm gonna strangle you.]. Other things popped out at us and then we reached a walkway in a tunnel, the outsides were turning to give the illusion that we went upside down. At the other end was a black, pitch black doorway. Brenna lost it again and she didn't want to be in front anymore. Neither did Leah and Devon. So I decided to because Brenna was in front for most of the time, and she deserved it. The rest of the way wasn't bad, we had to duck down and things above us were roaring and slamming down on us, then we reached the exit. God I was soooo happy. I promised myself I would never go back there again...ever.

The last parts of the day were my most treasured. First we went for dippin dots to ease the shock of the Fright Walk then we rode a few more rides, I did so willingly this time, and then we finished it with a Super Sundae Cone which I shared with Brenna cause she deserved it (though reallly it's cause she was staring at it so happily and probably thinking, "FOOD!"), and Bumper Cars. And now she and I are at her house at 11:58 at night. She's playing Zelda and I going to join her in just a moment.

In relevation to those who think I over reacted about the Fright Walk thing. For average girls like me that was a adventure and my best friend Brenna is a hero in many ways than one. So there. [ ummm... hi. this is a note from Brenna. I'd just like to point out that I'm not a hero, Harusame is, and that I actually didn't survive that Fright Walk. I'm pretty sure I've died of a stroke.] Correction: Brenna stayed at the front for all of the walk except the last 2 minutes. Pretty brave considering everywhere you looked there were floating heads and reflected dead people.
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Saturday, August 14, 2004

Saturday
Oi, tis summer and theres nothin to do. Well anyway I'm going over ta my best friends house today. She's the one that wrote the story about Kikyo. And I'm spending a week at her house. Very cool considering we haven't talk face to face in a hell of a long time. Too long I might add.
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Thursday, August 12, 2004

A Pole.
Okay well this is what we were arguing about. Its not nesscary to read the whole thing. Just skip down to the question. I am sharusame byt the way. Anyway heres the conversation.

sharusame: and carrot cake

wolfosnicker : no

sharusame: we must have carrot cake

sharusame: yes yes yes

wolfosnicker : angel food cake

sharusame: carrot cake
sharusame: i do love carrot cake

sharusame: carrot cake

wolfosnicker : a.f.c

wolfosnicker : a.f.c

sharusame: a what?
sharusame: afc

sharusame: waht is that?

wolfosnicker : angel food cake! a.f.c

sharusame: Carrot cake is better!!!!!!!

wolfosnicker : better than carrot

sharusame: its sweeter and healthy at the same time

wolfosnicker : a.f.c.is white!

sharusame: bleh

wolfosnicker : carrat is nasty

sharusame: mine is combination of healthy and sweet

sharusame: so there
wolfosnicker : mine is cooler, fluffier, and yummier

wolfosnicker : so ther

sharusame: oh blah

sharusame: and pish tush

sharusame: mine is better

wolfosnicker : fine, u get the carrot empire
sharusame: yes

sharusame: i will

wolfosnicker : and i'll bet the a.f.c one

sharusame: hey you know what

sharusame: I'll make poll

wolfosnicker : what

sharusame: on my page

sharusame: carrot or angle food cake

wolfosnicker : a.f.c. is better

wolfosnicker : but half the world has never heard of a.f.c

sharusame: well then thats too bad

wolfosnicker : ....thats so not fair

sharusame: hahahah

wolfosnicker :

wolfosnicker : u know, we should save this conversation.

sharusame: want me to put it on my webpage?

wolfosnicker : heheheh

wolfosnicker : sure

So now both of us ask you. Which one do you prefer? Carrot Cake or Angel Food Cake.

To vote please comment. Thank you for your cooperation.










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I am Who I am
This fanfiction was written by my best friend Brenna. Her account is Sniperwolf and I am sure you will agree this is a job well done. Okay here goes:

Yay! My second story is out and published! For those Kikyo-fans, this is for you. And for you avid neurotic ‘Die, Kikyo, DIE’ type people, I just ask you not to mutilate your computers while reading this, because computers are cool.

Note to self: Dear Phsycodragon,

I’m sorry to say, that all characters in the manga/anime Inuyasha do not belong to you. Ta ta, and have a lovely day pitying yourself in misery at this realization.

Sincerely,

Phsycodragon

I Am who I Am

The figure clad in a miko’s red-and-white garment stared blankly out at the horizon, watching with a critical eye as the sun rose above the mountains. She stood that way for a long time, wishing the sunlight shining on her stoic face would warm the essence of her soul.

It had been fifty years since she had last watched a sunrise, and even then, it felt like yesterday. Nothing had changed. Her heart still beat, her hair still lashed in the wind, and the peaks of Japan still glowed with an eerie, almost faerie-like, light. Kikyo observed all this with no emotion showing upon her beautiful face. She’d learned long ago that only the weak showed their feelings because it left them bare and vulnerable to any prying eyes. Her death had just proved her theory.

She stood there, merely looking, for a long, long time.

Ironic how that works, she thought wryly, how life the first time has no space for enjoying things, and how the second time round it does. Of course, only she would know that, because she was the only miko in existence who had risen from the grave. Yes, things were the same. And yet they were different.

Kikyo could remember when the world had been on her side, when all youkai feared her and humans respected her. She recalled a certain white-haired, lonely hanyou whom had spirited away her heart, laying it uncovered to the world. When she had been in the process of purifying the Sacred Jewel of Souls, and had expected a long life ahead of her...

Fate had a twisted sense of humor. Now, with a clay body encasing half of her soul, only held together by the spirits of other’s, she was fifty years passed her lifespan, and she had not aged a day. Youkai hardly noticed her, humans were terrified, and her forlorn

Inuyasha no longer wished to become her husband as a human. And Naraku, the brigade Onigumo, the betrayer who stole the form of Inuyasha, was after complete demonic form.

She allowed a smirk to make its way to her lips. Naraku who thought he had her in the palm of his hand. Naraku who knew nothing of her ability to take him and the Shikon Jewel to the grave. Naraku who still lusted after her, and so, unconsciously, had decided that he would not kill her. Oh, he’d tried. Dozens of times, infact. Once, he even got close to removing all of her physical power. But Inuyasha, oblivious Inuyasha, refused to believe she had helped Naraku and had boldly halted that course of action.

He still loved her as much as he did fifty years ago, when she, Kikyo , had been limited to the solitary life of a master miko.

He loved her, yes, and perhaps she still loved him. But he would never know her. At least not while that infuriating wench, her own reincarnation, was alive. Once upon a time Inuyasha would have forgotten anyone and everyone for her. But Kikyo knew that always, once upon a time never completely existed.

A child shrieked with glee, and Kikyo turned to face the wakening villagers. They thought she was a traveling healer, a [living] miko. They assumed she awoke with the dawn. The truth was, she didn’t need any, or hardly any, sleep at all.

“And that is where we begin our similarities,” She spoke to the wind, glancing to the trees where she had sensed the presence of one of Naraku’s minions. A wind witch. Kikyo liked not, and didn’t care, about her, nor her master. Let her hide out in the trees, thinking the second most powerful miko, other than Midoriko, had no clue to her whereabouts. Let her assume wrongly. It would only cost her her life.

“M’ Lady!” someone shouted. Kikyo knew without looking that little Sukira was running toward her, excitedly waving about her empty berry basket. Sukira’s 3-year-old sister would soon toddle up to them, as well as Tiko, Elletha, Pikka, and Sui. They would ask for stories and for her to play with them.

Only the weak showed emotion. But only the strong had a weakness. Kikyo unwittingly softened her thoughts to little Sukira. She reminded her so much of Kaede at that age, clinging to her pant leg with utmost pleasure, admiring and trusting fully in her.

“May we go eat the berries?” Sukira asked, tilting her head in an urgent manner. Kikyo bent and picked her up.

“Wait until the other’s come,” she said softly. The child squealed and giggled in ecstasy, jumping up and down. Kikyo knew she would not feel so comfortable if she knew that all the dead souls of young girls were the energy in which Kikyo could move with. She would find out soon. Monks would come, see her for what she was, and force her to move homes again. Sadness swept through her. The children would shriek, but not in happiness. They would scream and cry and fear would be rolling off of them in waves, and not one of them would remember her kindness, or wonder why, if she was an evil youkai, they were still alive.

Kikyo longed for when she could finally pass on in peace. But her heart hungered for Naraku’s blood, and for Inuyasha’s love. She could not leave either in the living world when it was time to go.

“Lady Kikyo!” numerous cries filled the air, as one by one, the village children arrived, each with their own berry basket. The Berry field wasn’t far, and Kikyo half listened to their tireless chatter. They moved through the outskirts of the village with no incident, until a quarter of a mile from the field, when Kikyo sensed a youkai approaching. Little Sui was a ways up the road, and the demon attacked before Kikyo could call up a protection field.

Sui’s blood littered the dirt road in a flash, her severed head disemboweled from her body. It all happened in slow motion for Kikyo. The attack, the scream, the blood... and the soul, being captured by the soul stealer, headed straight for her. The youkai exploded at the same instant that the soul hit her full force in the chest and replenished her strength, though she needed no replenishing. There was a silence, as if time itself had stood still. And then the yells began.

And, as she’d said dozens of time before, her last words to them were, “I’m sorry.” Two simple words that held fifty years worth of pain and misery, though she’d only been among the living for a short while. That was the last those children would ever see of the Lady Kikyo.

“Who am I?” Kikyo asked for countless times, observing yet another sunrise in yet another village.

She was a pain giver.

A healer.

A wandering spirit.

A miko.

A clay body.

A half soul.

And a killer out of necessity.

But who was she that no one would accept her? She was beginning to understand how Inuyasha felt, always shunned and hated and feared. Who am I?

She was everything that anyone could be. And she was nothing everyone was.

And in the silence of the morning, she received her answer on the wind.

I am Kikyo.

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