“She talks to you in a cheery voice … expression … just like an angel.”

She talks to you in a cheery voice and every word that escapes from her sparks a flowery passion inside of you. Her expression draws you into a dream world; just like an angel. She looks at you and at the same time you both put on an affectionate smile for one another. So you start to think of the situation you are in as the conversing continues downward away from the bright illuminating blossoms. Your thoughts are: is she in love with me, does she hold any romantic feelings for me, can this be true, will she be my girlfriend or a rejection after a confession, …. As you are stupidly lost and frustrated after an in-depth rumination, she faces you and happily beckons you to join in on the conversation because she does not like to talk to herself.

“… two figure … one resembling someone … you recognize …
commingled … rubbing … each other fondly.”

Then a new day starts. You go to school, forced to drill useless junk into your head, and the last bell rings. All the kid is already heading home, while some are venturing out into the adult world with others hanging around with their friends. It’s decided, you’re going to stop by a mini-mart to grab some snacks before heading home to study for the last exam. Snacking on the food you have just purchased, you procrastinate by wandering around the neighboring stores to escape from having to work yourself to death with pencils and textbooks.

Turning right, you approach some high class motels with balconies and glancing over the building you happen to see two figure of one resembling someone you very much recognize. The figure commingled together, rubbing against each other fondly. Its shadows casted behind the balcony walls forming a dreadful deformed asymmetrical shape. In comparison to it you were in that instant, a weak and fragile being. Frozen by what might be inevitably true, you try to not admit it by shaking off what is reality.

Still standing at the exact same spot, you languidly stare dead up in the distance where all evident was unfolding slowly and gradually, everything at that moment seemed like hell to you. You can’t do a thing, but watch the final sad scene of your story come to an end. You clench your fist and teeth more tightly. A part of you lower lip begins to bleed by unintentional biting. You’re speechless, mad, angry, and not the least of all, you feel like an idiot.

Self-contemplating on the long walk back home you constantly sighed. Incessantly laughing with an exaggerated tone trying emotionally to ward off the void. Shattering laugh that sends chills to the few walking passerby and their dogs. Attempting with difficulty in trying to cast away that shell of anxiety. Heartbroken, you eagerly want to find a way to vent off the sorrow. “Yes,” you thought, “that will be my retribution–be it for selfish reasons.

“Ha… ha… ha… ahhh…,”

Arriving home, you quickly walk straight into your bedroom, hiding your disarray from any household members. You don’t want them to make a big fuss about the situation. You don’t want to further burden them with draining affair. Moreover, if they found out what had happened that night they would only tease you; use the matter to inflict more harm on your diminishing health. They do not care about you; everyone despise you in many ways. You are the center of debate in their mind. They don’t want to raise a stupid child like you. They want to foster you off, throw you away. You’re only seen as a nuisance, weighing them down and exhausting their monetary assets. Your existence have brought negativity to the family. If it was not an obligation by law, you would’ve been abandoned long ago. That’s right, death is the only escape, but before doing so, you must attempt to go against fate.

“Need to find…,” you looked around the room for useful instruments. You find them and begin to stuff all the items into that old and crummy backpack of yours. The sun sets with engines and moving pedestrians noislessly moving about. You haven’t slept all night because of the events that had unfold during yesterday evenning. Everything has been crowded into your backpack. You are shaking but it is not fear nor is it estacy. You are trembling because soon you will play out the final act to a long and enduring nightmare. It is time now. You soon depart with what dull instruments you have brought along, and making your way to the last destination wearing only pajamas and a pair of slipper.

“Ha… ha… ha… ahhh…,” the next thing you know, you have your hands wrapped around a soft bony skin-like texture, squeezing it, constricting it with all your strength and moments later, the figure dangling from beyond your arms start to give off a peculiar high-pitch squalling sound.

[to be continue...]

Believe it or not, I have done it again! Unfortunately, I incidentally stumbled across what might just be the very epitome of this crisis–yellow-colored ^&$%s! The good news is, after a long night of sweat-imbued pondering on the subject, I may have discovered how the decisions are thought-up inside the mind of Japanese Otakus. I can give an insight on their thinking system, but the rest we’ll save for future arguments. So be sure to seat yourselves tightly onto a chair because it will be one heck of a surprise!

. . . . . .

. . . . . . . .

Truth is, one of the deciding factor of having to choose between an array of color or “blond,” there needs balance. An example would be every two guys gives evolution to a female blond (gaara+shikamaru=tamari, sasuke+lee=ino, jiraiya+??!!!=tsunade, etc), or every three male lead makes one. The point? I am trying to make is, none.

Just kidding! There is actually one valid truth that devastates Japan, that is: “ARggh!!! I have a big (no pun intended, LOL) resource and an ingenuity of ideas about my next great project. It’s going to be about…blah..blah…blah–Ah! Yes, that’s right. My story needs hot and sweaty babes in bikinis… no, wait… Ugh.. Perfect! Just perfect!!! That’s right! BLONDS will JUSTIFY it all!”

No, for the last time, I AM NOT BASHING NOR AM I IN ANY WAY AN IDIOT WHO ADVOCATES CHAUVINISM!

I don’t give a mind as to what the heck character’s physical traits is when the plot is worth a few alternation here and there. I don’t care if the main character was a homosexual, I wouldn’t be surprise if the he was unbecoming of a hero. It could make the plot more attracting if I am attracted to the main leads, but first things first, I just want a damn good story!

Ignoring what was previously stated, I want to point out the extent of how much American’s mass media effects has on the Japanese culture. I’m not going to get into the whole American Vs. the Japanese. I won’t even touch anything beyond that. I will only focus on hairs–blond bleached-dirty-etcetera hair coloring trend (?). I will start out by showing you an example. Below is one of the many cases of a gradual american assimilation, a birth of a yellow hair that made it’s way into the pack of hordes.

DoubleArts, released by AOM (Anime or Manga).
Get it Here.