Period. I am not special. Really. In any way shape or form. And I think, that I can accept that now.

I always thought that I was special, a gifted child that could go on to do many great things like going to Harvard and winning the Nobel Prize. Not so say that those aren’t great but I think that I was always deluded by the “I’m special” line. It’s stupid. I went on thinking that I was so good that I didn’t need to work hard to achieve great things (and that did happen) but it was always half-baked. My mom always said that to me. I would get almost perfect grades and I was praised for many subjects (except *cough* PE *cough*) but that praise was always for my natural ability. ALL I DID WAS READ TOO MUCH AS A KID. I loved non-fiction as much as fiction and read so much that I ended up learning early and retained that information. I never worked hard till I finally realized that: I’m not special. At all.

It’s hard to think about for some people, I know at least 10 perfectionists that I am good friends with and I am a perfectionist myself. But I learned to look past that already. I just didn’t know that I did. Story time!

I draw all the time. It literally doesn’t matter, it could be crappy doodles or something I worked hard on but I still drew. I continued innocently drawing until I was introduced to DEVIANTART and OTHER PEOPLE. Fond memories come up. I would see all these people that drew so much better than I did! What?! I was clearly so good, why did these look so much better. I despaired over how dumb my drawings were and guess what: I didn’t draw for the period of my life between the ages 9-10. I couldn’t. Everyone else drew and it was so damn good compared to mine that I lost all of my self esteem in my abilities. (I did focus more on my writing ability during the dry season of me not drawing, so that was a bonus I suppose.) Then my best friend introduced me to anime, Pokemon and Vocaloid. I was hooked. I traced the entire first 150 Pokemon from the Pokedex book, I started to adopt the anime style and drew so much crap that I ended up convincing my mom to buy me a tablet. Good going me! I continued to draw and draw as I became obsessed with more things and I improved. I kept drawing everyday, watching speed paints, reading tutorials, drawing more. I was so hooked that I couldn’t care less about how good my drawings were, I just did it.

And that’s the secret really. I worked hard. I had a drive, a passion for it. So why can’t I apply this to other areas of my life? I may not be as talented as other people but I can work ten times harder than I was before and I can get better.

Successful people work hard. I get that now.

Okay I swear, getting back to blogging has helped my writer and artist’s block. BLOGGING HAS LIFTED MY CURSE. It’s amazing. I am going to keep this up. Since my dad prompted me to start writing again I have filled out 5 sketchbook pages, created two pencil portraits, and started conceptualizing some areas for a book/manga. I had 4 wonderful dreams that kick-started each morning I’ve had since then.

I have a theory about why this happened. There was quite a literal “block” in the stream of creativity that I have in my brain. I have been reading and scrolling through endless streams of different kinds of media, and found so many things that I compared to my work. Questions and phrases such as: Why am I so bad compared to these people? Why do I suck? I’m terrible compared to this. I had so many ideas in my stream of creativity, and I kept comparing myself to people, so they never had the chance to bloom.

After being prompted to write out something that nobody really reads or expects amazing quality out of, I started writing and pouring all of my ideas out into long-ass posts. This sudden “pouring out” of ideas was a torrent of creativity pushed the “block” out of the way and I started to create things again.

(This is so convoluted and random and (and I just used “and” three times) just, I need to write this out before I get back to making stuff.)

ARGH, WAY TOO MANY IDEAS, WILL MASTERPOST STUFF SOON.

Signing off,

Aya

Sherlock owns a dog, and Molly owns a cat (named Toby :D) in canon. So in my headcanon, Mycroft owns a goldfish/angelfish. John owns a rabbit. Lestrade owns a hamster.

Just sayin’.

Signing off,

Aya

I have this feeling that I have to make a post that highlight the, well, HIGHLIGHTS of July, and the many expectations I have for August. Without further ado, (and in no particular order) here are the highlights of July.

• I started my job! Second one really, but the other one seems more like a chore-ish type job.
• I resigned from my initial summer job as a summer camp counsellor! Why? Because I have to stay at Nagoya!
• I read through each and every single Sherlock Holmes story, properly. (I might tell the story of why I put a “properly” there some other time.)
• I mastered drawing Jacksepticeye! If that isn’t a summer break accomplishment then you don’t know me at all.
• I got back into cartoons!
• I re-watched BBC Sherlock for the 150th time!
• I saw the so-called “blue moon”! (Which wasn’t blue, just the second full moon in July. Still really cool though. And oddly enough coinciding with Life is Strange’s double moon thing. Conspiracy at work here?! Nah, I’m kidding,)

And those were the highlights for July. My year two teacher would be so disappointed in me, I started all of my sentences with “I”. On to hopes for August!

• Two of my best friend’s birthdays!
• Festivals! Fireworks! Fun! (You see what I did there? 3 F’s. Just gonna leave that in.)
• School! Because I hate not being able to exercise my brain. That’s it. (Oh and friends, yeah. :P)

That’s it. Wow, I initially had so much hope for this post. :/

Signing off,

Aya

Yo! I just had a mental showdown in which I completely failed at, because summer break is the oxygen to my metal. In other words (or words that were directly implied in the previous statement), my brain is rusty from disuse. Not that I didn’t regularly exercise it, it’s just that my memory seems to have gone haywire or my dad’s impressive short term memory skills is better. I would say both but the pride in my says to not admit to the latter.

Story time, with young (annoying, charming, and bratty, yet creative enough to start writing layered scripts and novels) me!

Now when I was six, not only was I oddly obsessed with the TV show version of Disney’s “Hercules” and a paranoid ghost hunter but I was also a smartass. Because I thought that I was infinitely better than everybody else. This meant that I was extremely sensitive to any fact that was NOT uttered by me, or being corrected. Especially by an adult. Here are many examples of a conversation that I might have or might NOT have had regarding my sensitivity to being corrected or ignored in my “massive intellect” (Haha, sucks to be you six-year-old me. I’m making fun of myself how much more meta can I get…):

Example #1: Ignored

Teacher: What is half of a diameter?

Me: *raises hand enthusiastically*

Teacher: *ignores me* Oh, what do you say “student that is not Aya”? (He didn’t actually say that, just pretend its a name there instead. I’m trying to be funny. Ironically.)

Example #2: Being corrected

Teacher: What is half of a diameter?

Me: *raises hand enthusiastically, because I’m so ready to be a smartass*

Teacher: Aya?

Me: Oh, a rectum!

Teacher: Um… it’s a radius.

Aya: *looks super disappointed and cross, while slowly turning into a wonderful shade of red because I realized what I just said*

(No joke, this actually happened. Seriously. I never really raised my hand in math until the end of the year.)

Those are two significant examples that may or MAY NOT have happened. But yeah. I thoroughly enjoyed correcting other people though. Mini-Sherlock in the making. (Until I veered off into more John Watson-like characteristics from age seven and onwards.) Now my smartassy-ness got washed out from my personality, but it’s like a curry stain that never ACTUALLY left. Meaning that I learned that people don’t like to be one-upped most of the time, but I still indulge sometimes. 😀

Back in present time now, I was expanding my memory palace. (Yes, I am a Sherlock Holmes fan. As in a fan of almost every adaptation and the Arthur Conan Doyle stories. *sigh*) Unfortunately, my brain was super rusty after disuse. Lo and behold my dad who was all up in my concentration by using his memory and I was one-upped. (I did get my revenge but… eh. Long story. >:D) This incident reminded me of how much of a brat I was and I am on my way to trying to fix that. (Not.)

😀

Signing off,

Aya

Five Night’s at Freddy’s and My Overactive Imagination

The recent installment in a series of horror games called “Five Night’s at Freddy’s” (Specifically FNAF 4.) got me thinking back to a time in which my overactive imagination was extremely significant to me. Apparently I am an amazing actor, as even my parents were oblivious to this fact until now. Story time!

When I was seven, I was trying to work on a math worksheet without the assistance of my dad when I heard my mom screaming. This was nothing new, she was probably watching a movie thought seven-year-old me. So I kept working. Another scream. I was starting to lose focus and started getting irritated that I couldn’t work properly. Another scream. That was the last straw, and I stomped outside to find that my mom was actually watching a movie, but it wasn’t anything I ever saw before. My mom invited me to sit on the couch, and as I could never resist my curiosity, I sat down. I wasn’t really paying attention to it until the people in the film were standing in front of a barricade that got kicked down and people walked in. Except they weren’t actually people. It was a zombie movie that I found myself watching, and I was absolutely terrified as well as interested in a strange, macabre way. We finished the movie when my mom told me that we had to return the movie to the rental shop. I was ready to leave the house and not think about the horrors I just saw or my math homework. So I rushed to the front door and threw it open (as well as a thin, feather-light seven year old could do), and saw what time of day it was. It was night.

I survived the rest of the night (albeit, with my mom almost successfully scaring me sometimes, but I was a hard-headed, stubborn little girl) but when I lay in my bed that night, I put my head under the covers for the first time in my life. I tried sleeping but I found that it was hard to breathe so I created a little hole using the edge of the blanket to breathe through. My legs were slipping out of the bottom so I tucked them up to my chest and slept like that until morning. This was the beginning of me formulating tactics and various plans to avoid the zombies from getting me. (Note: I was old enough to know that they were fictional, but they were science fiction. According to me, that meant that it could happen.)

The first of the tactics and plans was to protect my bedroom at all costs. I would now no longer keep my door shut and if I noticed anything bad, I would sprint towards my parent’s bedroom (which happened to be exactly on the opposite end of the hallway from my room). This way I could protect myself by alerting my parents. I then made a habit of keeping the closet open so that I could see anything that would crawl out. Next, I had to tuck all limbs to my chest and I had to be underneath the blanket. The only time I was allowed to change positions was when the zombies got in the room and I would have to lay spread eagled out under the blanket to trick the zombies into going into other rooms because they wouldn’t notice me. Oddly enough, my next tactic was to always turn away from the door (Which would make the first two tactics completely moot, but oh well.) but I was seven, don’t ask.

From this, I started my next tactic which I called the “Light Sprint”. I had received permission to start going home by myself (and or accompanied with my mom) and once the door was open I would rush through slapping all of the light switches and throwing my bag across the carpet to finally settle against the corner of the couch that was against a wall. There are many variations of this, such as when I was finally desensitized to the visually related fears I had and my auditory fears began to become more pronounced. I started to either hum or sing to myself a happy song before I opened the door, and when I would get in, I would keep my hands on the locks while scanning for anything that might pop out. This way I could run out while slamming the ghost in the face.

This was worsened when I stayed over at my flat in San Francisco and because my parents took the bedroom, and eight year old me had to sleep on the couch. In the living room. Which had the front door in it. And the heater. Which meant noises that would freak me out. I managed to try get my dad to make me a midnight snack just to have some company at 12 in the morning. But the inevitable happened and I was re-tucked into the makeshift bed. The light switch was flipped and I was terrified. I tried to cover myself with the blanket using sleep protection tactic #1 (tuck all limbs to chest) but the heater made a sound that freaked me out and I never slept there again. On reflection it might have been better if I stayed there because I could be like a lookout, but hey, eight-year-old Aya logic.

That’s only a taste of what I used to do as a paranoid little kid. The list goes on from creating my own zombie survival kit, stealing the flashlights, always keeping my BB gun with me to making barricades using my never ending supply of stuffed toys. I also came out with a bunch of habits such as never being able to sleep without the orange nightlight (which I’ve finally started NOT using), always flipping on every single light when I enter a room and putting the blanket over my head. Not that these aren’t good, it’s just that some annoy people. 😛

One good thing that came out of my period of extreme paranoia is the fact that I am now completely desensitized to the horror genre. Seriously, the closest to screaming or covering my eyes is me slightly jerking my head back. (Which is instinctive.) Apparently during the last months of my paranoia, I started getting into creepypasta, horror movies, NoSleeps and RPG horror games. Weird how that happens.

Signing off,

Aya

Hiatus Update, Cartoon Shows and all of That Jazz

Yo! I’m back after a ridiculously long hiatus, (almost as long as the BBC Sherlock ones to be honest) and I’m ready to actually… BLOG! (Terrible use of ellipse but eh, my blog, my words.) I haven’t been writing a lot recently because of another terrible event that happens annually called “school”. Otherwise known as either: 1, your safe haven for learning and fun times with friends or 2, absolute hell on earth. How is it for me? Both. As much as I love/hate school sometimes, I get up to other things that are not school related, but those hobbies get burnt out. So what did I decide to do? Revive my old blog and start writing again. (The real story is that my dad said “Hey, update your blog.”, and I said “FINE.”)

Seeing as I have been absent here since… um… some time ago, let me do a quick recap of what happened so far since then. (I used since twice in one sentence and keep using these wonderful things called parentheses. That’s bad.)

Aya, hiatus year 1 – “Oh, it’s nothing. JUST THAT I’M PAST TEN YEARS OLD AND NOW I’M SO MUCH BETTER THAN ALL OF YOU, HAHA!” Obsession(s): The Warrior Cat’s series

Aya, hiatus year 2 – “Did I mention that I’m almost a teenager?” Obsession(s): Ace Attorney, 999, and anime.

Aya, hiatus year 3 – “I’m a teenager. EW, WHAT!? I’M SO OLD NOW.” Obsession(s): Sherlock (which is ongoing :D), anything horror related, Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy, and various actors.

And so it goes… Meaning that I’m almost exactly the same “me” as me from hiatus year 3. Insert P.T. joke here. Okay there are some years I didn’t cover but, eh. Enough updating from me though, let’s get on to something from the current me shall we?

Story time! When I was a kid, I loved cartoons. And not as in: “Oh, I liked this one show…”. No. I would watch ANYTHING on Cartoon Network or Disney. Anything being, Courage the Cowardly Dog, Power Puff Girls, Mickey Mouse Club House, Miu and Mao, Pingu… JUST ANYTHING really. (Believe it or not, this meant that I absolutely despised live-action or anime. You can gasp now.) I got up every morning and as soon as I could leave the shower I would jump on the sofa, and turn on the TV. It was a miraculous experience. (Except for when my mom would drag me off to dry my hair and go to school.) I always had this feeling of complete and utter satisfaction when I would finish. When I was dragged off to live in England, the initial absence of a TV got to me. I would lie around the flat, doing absolutely nothing. Once we had one, I wouldn’t watch. Cartoon Network wasn’t on air so why should I care? Thus, I got acclimatized to reality television and game shows. I started getting into reading more. I started to leave the TV off more often than on, and migrated my sitting spot to somewhere in my room or the swivel chair of the computer. Instead of my eyes glued to the TV, my nose would be buried inside a book or I would be leaning into the computer as if I wanted to jump inside.

This carried on until we moved back to our old house in Japan, and I found myself face to face with a familiar screen. There was a feeling in my gut that said “Cartoons, Aya! What are you doing, go on! It’s right there in front of you.” I was once again deprived of the TV as we were not paying for the broadcast of Cartoon Network and Disney at the time, and the feeling nagged at me to ask my mom to start paying for the broadcast again. This took about a week before she finally remembered to start doing so, but by then the feeling dissolved and I went back to my Rainbow Magic and Club Penguin. She reminded me one day that it was there, and I immediately rushed in front of the TV and turned it on. (After looking at the page number and trying to remember it. Totally forgot it and had to flip through each chapter until I found it. :P) The feeling was back. I found myself back in time as I flipped to the channel that I was longing to see so badly when I saw a cartoon I had never seen before. I was disoriented. I knew all of the cartoons. How could I not recognize this one? I finished watching it, but I never got the satisfaction of finishing the episode of what’s-it’s-name cartoon like I always had.

Because of this one encounter with an unfamiliar cartoon, I started to migrate towards channels like Discovery, History, National Geographic and Animal Planet. I had started to become glued to the screen again, absolutely fascinated by all of the things I didn’t know about. But despite my return to the front of the TV, it wasn’t the same. I started to drift off again, into the recesses of the internet and anime.

So that’s my relationship with cartoons. No, scratch that. WAS my relationship with cartoons. I was on and off with it, as I became slightly obsessed with Avatar: The Last Airbender and Korra, and gave Adventure Time a shot. But even as I finished each episode and series, I (again) didn’t get the same feeling of satisfaction. Until recently.

I was scrolling through and squealing at various things on Tumblr, when I saw that many of the people that I followed were writing and drawing about this show called Steven Universe. I had seen it in some advertisements on TV but because of my lack of interest in cartoons, I ignored it. The fact that I had a lack of interest in cartoons popped into my mind, and I continued scrolling past the masses of posts. After a couple weeks I was browsing my favorite artist’s blog when I found once again, masses of posts about Steven Universe. I had just about enough with being completely oblivious to what everybody was talking about, and I watched it purely out of annoyance at the people who knew something more about cartoons than I did.

When I finished the first episode, my mouse immediately moved towards the “next episode” button and a familiar euphoria bloomed inside of me. I kept watching every single episode and devoured the whole of the existing episodes in one day. I rewatched my favorites and hungered for more. So where did I look? Tumblr. I found mountains of content, gold mines of beautiful works created by the fandom. There I came across some crossover posts between Steven Universe and Gravity Falls. Gravity Falls was another cartoon which I completely ignored just because it was a cartoon. I resolved to try it as well. I sent a text to my friend who was telling me that I should watch it, and pressed play to the first episode. And well what do you know, I fell in love with it as well. It took me a slightly longer time to finish it, but I would not stop for breaks and watched everything in two days. My faith in cartoons was restored.

So what are you supposed to take from all this? I say: 1, watch Steven Universe and Gravity Falls, even if they aren’t your cup of tea (Just give it a try, this is coming from a person who hasn’t as much as looked at cartoons for years now.) and 2, cartoons are amazing.

Signing out,

Aya.

POST DD:AA

Phoenix was waiting on the train station seats for a specific someone. Pearls had told him that she was coming back for a visit since her master’s duties were nullified for a day, seeing as there were no clients; she had finished all her training for the month and was heading back to LA. It had been a long eight years since he had seen her. Of course, there were the occasional letters and phone calls, (and the Steel Samurai DVD’s…) but never really any face-to-face encounter between him and her. Between investigations for Kristoph, taking care and raising Trucy, bringing the Jury System back, he never really had any time for her in the first place in those long eight years.

He looked up at the train schedule; a train from Kurain was coming at 3:15 PM. He glanced back up at the clock next to the

schedule notices. 3:10… He had to admit, that he took off as soon as Pearls came back from grocery shopping with Trucy. Apparently Kurain now gave out their one and only cell phone to the people leaving for vacation. In this case, Pearl had it and was contacted immediately. He had quickly grabbed his coat and stumbled his way out of the door and nearly tripped down the stairs. 3:12… Three more minutes, before the train would come zooming through the station, slowing down then halting to let her down.

What would she be like now? Would she still retain the hair and cheery attitude that he grew so attached to a long time ago? Or would she have the more stoic, expected demeanor of a master to a school? Then again, he didn’t really care. Just as long as he could see her again, after probably the longest time he had ever been away from her. 3:14… He could hear the sound of the train now, whooshing its way to the station. 3:15…

The loud sound of the train blaring flooded his ears. The train had arrived. It stretched for as far as the station’s end and slowed down to a halt. The train let out a sigh of steam and that covered Phoenix’s sight for a bit. When it cleared, a sea of people suddenly flooded the area. Seeing that he might lose her in the crowd, he quickly scanned the area. He couldn’t spot her, maybe she had already left the area, or maybe she was somewhere he didn’t look yet. But lo and behold, after the sea of people parted, there she was!

Phoenix ran towards her calling out her name again, after what seemed like an eternity. “Maya!” He yelled, catching her attention. Maya whipped her head to track down who had called her name. Once she had found him, she called out as well. “NICK!” Maya dropped her suitcase to greet her Phoenix. He reached her and picked her up, to twirl her around. “Maya! It’s been so long!” He propped her back down. Maya grinned at him, her smile brimming with happiness. “Too long Nick, way too long! You take too long, you old fart.” He grinned back at her and felt the familiar sting of a Maya comment. He chuckled, “You never change, do you?”

____________________________________________________________________________________________________

“I never will!”

“Haha, I can’t believe that you are a government official. Its impossible!” “Wha-! Nick! So this is how you greet me after, like… forever!”

“Well, one thing changed about you… Your clothes and hair… What’s up with that?” “It’s apparently traditional clothes for the master. I think.” “Well, it suits you.”

“Thanks Nick! *growls* Oh, I think I’m getting hungry. You up for some burgers?”

“Yup, you never change…”

And so they went, two old friends reunited.

THE END

Remember what I said in Terrible Drawings?? Well, I practiced anime, and have a new alias of chibi queen… 😛

 Greek Apollo Justice Characters. Phoenix, Trucy and Apollo.

  An OC called Mimi, she’s a medusa. Inspired by マリー from カゲロウデイズ.

 OC based on a friend of mine :). See if you recognize yourself!

 Another OC based on a friend, kinda based on Trucy from Ace Attorney.

  A dragon. Duh! 😛

Hi! Sorry for no update in a while, I’ve been juggling school and such. I’m going to have a piano recital, a dance preformance and BLAH! The biggest obstacle school is done now. Anyway I came to just ramble (write- wramble) about some games that I have been going through my Like Cycle. It’s a Like Cycle is a cycle of things I like and cycle through the likes, changing it each time.

LIKE CYCLE:

Final Fantasy X – XIII

Duck Life                                   Ace Attorney (The first one, haha I’ve only played one, it’s new)

Portal                                                                    Pokemon

Howrse                                        Binding of Isaac

Minecraft