Friday, February 26, 2010

Anime Club!!

Today has been the happiest day in a long time: today, we had our FIRST EVER OFFICIAL ANIME CLUB MEETING!!!!!!! Being an idealistic pessimist, I never expected it to work out. I never thought things could get better for us, or that we'd ever be more then nerds, stranded at the edges of society. I'm happy to say that I was wrong: today, we met in my school, in room 207, and spent the entire lunch hour planning our first manga. The teacher who finally took us in is also in charge of the schools newspaper, and is thrilled by the amount of enthusiasm we have for manga and anime. She has promised us space in the paper for a manga strip, which will be a humor based comic about our long and arduous journey into the world of club-hood. Basically, we will write a satirical piece, where we will constantly insult the teachers who turned us down. We are all designing our own characters, based upon us. We have decided to split the work of illustrating the manga evenly, with everyone drawing their own character, and taking turns on the backgrounds.
While we are a club now, I had nothing to do with this happening. Everything we have, we owe to our president, Christina. Christina never seemed to be a leader; she was always shy, and afraid to speak out. Because of her manner and disposition, I never expected her to make anything happen. I was wrong. While I was writing dramatic letters, she was talking to people, and perusing the art teachers for their testimonials. Because of her, we have the thing we most desperately wanted, and I want to thank her here, even though she shall never read this. Thank you Christina: you did what I couldn't, and I'll always be grateful to you.

Saturday, February 20, 2010


Dear members of the school board:
My name is ******* ***, and I am a member of the Anime Club. At this moment, I am sure that you are scratching your head. You don't know what club I'm talking about, do you? The club I am referring to, dear friends, is the one which you denied a club status earlier this week. We are the group you rejected. We are nonexistent in your eyes. To you, we are nothing.
Because you do not know about us, I shall have to explain what has happened up until today, and I will have to do it here.
Just before the Christmas holidays, I joyfully walked to the meeting room of the Anime Club with my friends, only to be told that we were no longer allowed to meet there. My friends and I went to the office, where you told us that we could not be a club without a teacher advisor. You suggested that we ask one of the art teachers to facilitate us.
We did as you told us, and went directly to the art department. As we had already spoken to two of the three teachers, we approached the only one left--Mr Shipman. When we found him, I explained our predicament; how we couldn't meet without a teacher to oversee us, and how the office had recommended that we speak to an art teacher. He didn't even allow me to finish speaking. He laughed uproariously, and then said the following (paraphrased): "No way. I don't like anime; it's the stupidest thing ever, and the worst thing an art student can get into. It's a waste of time." With due respect to Mr Shipman, I think that his reaction was cruel and hurtful. Without foundation, he called something that we dearly love stupid. He is entitled to his opinion, but he never even attempted to give a reasonable and coherent explanation for it.
Obviously, Mr Shipman was uninterested in our group, and we could do nothing to change his mind. We left, and proceeded to contact another teacher, Mr Bear.
Mr Bear agreed to let us use his room to meet. However, he told us that he would not officially be our teacher advisor, because he had no interest in anime. We accepted this, and the Thursday of the second week after the Christmas break, we met there for the first time. It was a wonderful and positive environment--A chance for people with a shared passion to meet each other, and express their feelings to people who would understand them. There was never a second meeting.
Because many of us were not free on Thursday, we decided to reschedule to Friday. On Friday, I was told by our president that we were not allowed to meet as a club anymore. From what I have been told, I gather that the school will not let us meet without an official advisor, and will not allow us to have one until we can bring in notes from the teachers in the art department, saying that they refused to take us in.
Naturally, we still meet. I will not tell you where, because you would likely try to stop us. We are a group of friends, and we feel just as strongly about manga and anime hiding in the corners of the school as we would as an official group, but we still want to be recognized as a group, and given a meeting place.
While we may do exactly the same things we would do as a club, independently, until you give us status, we are not a club. We can never work with the school to organize trips; we cannot recruit new members by posting signs; we cannot be recognized as more then nerds who are not even deserving of a table in the cafeteria. I believe this to be unjust.
By telling us that we must have a teacher advisor, you insinuate that we are not capable of taking care of ourselves. However, you expect us to work out our problems with the art department, and it's teachers, on our own. This is an contradiction, and a double message, because if you do not believe us to be old enough to work independently, we should not have to bring notes from the people who scorned us.
As our superiors, you have the right to deny us the right to be a club. But as human beings, I am asking you to respect us, and acknowledge the love we feel for anime. I am not asking you to love anime. I know that if you dislike it, nothing I say can make you see differently. I don't care what you think about our unofficial club; but you don't have to see eye to eye with me, I am simply requesting that you either give us an advisor, or allow us to meet without one.
We may not be as important as Colour Outside the Lines, or Students Bridging Boarders, but we are still people with a common love. You would never have dreamed of denying a human rights club--like those listed above--a meeting place and a status. In your eyes, we are undoubtedly just a bunch of pathetic teenagers with no ambition; perhaps you are correct, and what we love is as unimportant as most of the world would say it is, but it is still WHAT WE LOVE. We are not Neo Nazi's: we are not hurting anyone, or insulting their ideals; we just want to meet, and be official in your eyes.
I am a member of the Anime Club, and I am acting alone. I cannot speak for the others in this letter, but I hope that you will reconsider your position and give us a fair chance. If you wish to speak to me, you may page me over the intercom, and we will sit down and speak as equals.
Yours sincerely,
-******* ***

Flightless Birds

I love you.
I hate you.
I need you.
Just go away.
God, I wish I weren't so contrary.
I would pull you in,
But I'm afraid of being pushed away.
I want you,
But who could ever love me?
Stupid little girl,
In too big clothes.
Am I as lost in this world,
As my thin body is lost,
In thick black fabric?
There is a veil between us.
Like a one way mirror:
I can see you,
But I am invisible.
A veil...
Or are you just ignoring me?
I wouldn't blame you.
I love you,
And I hate you.
If I had you,
I would probably destroy you.
Break you.
Crush your wings,
And make you like me.
Beautiful bird:
How this ugly duckling envies you.
If I could, I would tear you apart.
I would take your golden plumage,
And cover myself in your bloody feathers.
Please, stay at a distance.
Because a flightless bird like me,
Will only seek to hurt you.
Oh, but how I would love to have you.
Lock you in chains,
And put up walls around you.
Why not?
They did it to me.
Come to me,
And we'll kill each other.
And forget,
That the real enemies,
Are watching us,
And laughing
At our foolish war.
Two broken, flightless birds.
Perhaps, wingless though we are,
We can sing,
And fly on the cracked music,
Of our choking, broken voices.
You were a songbird once,
Weren't you?

Disturbing, isn't it? I know, you're shocked...TWO POSTS IN ONE DAY!!!! Really?! EVA?!?! Oh well...I had this up on deviant art, and I thought I'd just post it here...:P

The Brightest Star

In my own, masochistic way,
I envy your pain:
It has made you stronger,
Then I can ever be.
Your eyes,
So bright and clear:
I could burn them,
Stab them out,
And obliterate their light,
But they would still be brighter,
Then my own.
Your smile is sad,
But it is real.
Much as I try,
I can only muster,
A half grin.
Or a scowl.
Or a bitter tear.
Your tears are so gentle.
Soft, and lonely.
I can't even bring myself to cry.
While you sob,
I laugh hysterically,
At the pain that I don't know.
Your imperfections
Are so beautiful.
Your pains and joys,
So acute.
My feelings are never so sharp.
I don't know who or what I am.
I don't know what I think of you.
Or why.
All I know for sure,
Is the hatred I feel,
For the things I almost love.
I wish my life,
Were as brutal as yours.
You are almost dead;
Drowned in your agony.
But while you truly lived,
You were the brightest star in the sky.
And I am not a star at all.

Hello, dear readers! :) Well, this poem was written with the character Envy, from Fullmetal Alchemist, in mind. Originally, it was supposed to be about him, but I ended up making it partially about me...I dunno...:P Anyway, you can find me on deviant art at if you want to read all my poems, and see some of my art! <3

Tuesday, February 16, 2010


We grin.
We talk of shallow, happy things.
Manga characters,
and movies we haven't seen.
So foolish.
So carefree.
You are my friend,
but I will never confide in you.
You are far too innocent;
if I allowed you to penetrate my mind,
you would run, screaming.
Then, yesterday in the hallway
You were different.
You were so quiet,
so withdrawn.
"What's wrong?"
Your tone caused me to stop and stare.
Was it you, behind that mask of angry defiance,
or was it myself?
I tried to confront you;
you walked away.
It was later,
that you finally cried.
I watched as another girl comforted you.
All I could do,
was pat your shoulder awkwardly.
When the tears abetted,
you hugged me.
I thought for a moment, then,
that everything had changed.
Perhaps we would talk about the things that mattered,
and share our pain together.
But the moment passed,
and the next day
we sat together.
So close.
So far.
"How are you?"
We sit,
close enough to touch,
and yet separated,
by an impenetrable wall.
We sit.
We grin.
And talk about shallow, happy things.
Without ever touching what truly matters.

I wrote this about an experience I shared with one of my friends at school. She is nice, and we have a lot of common interests, but we never delve beneath the surface. I wish I could say that it was her fault, but it's not; we're both to blame. The truth is, trust is the hardest thing to build, and it always takes me years to make true friends, no matter how wonderful all the people in my life are.