【Ｍｏｎｏ】

Now that graduation practices, and the graduation ceremony itself is finally over, I can FINALLY get around to doing the things that I actually want to do, like writing. 
          
          The practices were mind-numbingly boring, where we spent nearly 40+ hours rehearsing how to walk down an isle and then sit down. Then to stand back up again, face to the right, and walk off again and go up on stage, etc. etc. Personally, I feel like this isn't even difficult enough to actually warrant an entire week for rehearsals, but the school disagrees.
          
          Anyways, I'm quite excited to actually be able to work on stuff again, so I'll be in your care once more, everyone.

So, allow me to update you on what had happened for the past couple of days.
          
          Upon returning home late one night, I'd discovered that my sister's cat had peed on my keyboard and had broken it, leaving me to use a computer without a keyboard for quite some time.
          
          I'm not sure if you've tried this, but attempting to write stories with an on-screen keyboard controlled with your mouse is worse than suffering in hell. Because not only do you have to type in every single character, but you cannot use the em-dash, and instead have to google it in order to copy paste it into your story.
          
          As a result, I wasn't able to update "So, about writing." for a while now. Well, I wasn't able to type very effectively either. So I decided to wait until I'd received my replacement, which I managed to set up just last night.
          
          And now we're in the present, where I'd gotten my keyboard back, and have a proper keyboard cover to protect it from any form of future detriments, such as cat urine or drink spills, and my sanity along with it.
          
          I apologize for my inactivity.
          
          Anyways, let's get back to writing again.

Now that exams are over, I can more properly continue off from my previous post.
          
          Allow me to share my enthusiasm for the 2019 adaptation of Dororo.
          
          The full title being "Dororo & Hyakkimaru," the original manga was first released all the way back in 1967. 
          
          Created by none other than "Osamu Tezuka," quite literally dubbed "the God of Manga," for the way he paved the way for modern manga to even exist. He created such works as Astro Boy, Black Jack, Kimba the White Lion, Phoenix, and has made over 700+ manga series in his lifetime. He's set countless tropes, including the large eyes that anime is now infamous for having. 
          
          Synopsis of Dororo to Hyakkimaru:
          
          The father of the swordsman Hyakkimaru was a power-hungry political and military presence in feudal Japan. Driven into a corner, he entered the Hall of Hell and struck a deal with the 12 demons of the underworld to sacrifice his firstborn son for dominance on the battlefield.
          
          The result was Hyakkimaru: A child with no eyes, no nose, no hands, no arms, no legs, no skin or organs whatsoever. He only had eye-sockets that would leak out blood when he cried since he had no tear ducts. And he was alive.
          
          After his father attempted to get rid of him, trying to pretend he never existed, the child survived and is given a prosthetic body from a medicinal doctor with powerful weapons equipped into his body. 
          
          Hyakkimaru sets out to find and slay all twelve demons of the underworld to reclaim parts of his body back, one by one, before finally confronting his father who made him like that in the first place.
          
          Let me remind you that this manga was created in 1967. Dororo was ahead of its time. 
          
          Originally, there were 48 demons but the 2019 adaptation cut it down to the more modern twelve to not only save on time restrictions, but to make each fight with each demon more meaningful and carry more weight.
          
          And lastly, this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5DCGQ57ykME

Today, I've learned of several things.
          
          One, is that for some odd reason, all of the rather obscure manga series I've been reading for the past couple years are being adapted into an anime series. It started first with The Rising of the Shield Hero, which was one of the highlights of this year, as it's currently airing— with a 40 minute long episode one, mind you. Forty minutes of pure bliss.
          
          The Promised Neverland, a manga series I've been keeping track of is airing alongside The Rising of the Shield Hero to boot.
          
          Next, one of my favorite manga series, In/Spectre, an occult-detective series has just been announced to be adapted & air hopefully sometime in 2019.
          
          Lastly, as I was catching up on In/Spectre before the show would air, I discovered that the creator of Soul Eater has a manga called "Fire Force," which coincidentally, is also going to be adapted in 2019.
          
          It seems like this is going to be a good year.
          
          Though it pains me to say I still have one day of exams remaining. 
          I must remain vigilant.

For the artists who went unnoticed, who filled margins and sketchbooks but never let them see the light of day, the writers who couldn't get the people they loved to read their work; who spent hours a day pouring effort into pages only to never have readers or positive feedback. For the dancers with the “wrong” body type, actors who only ever got small roles, musicians who had choir voices or ninth chair skills or nobody in the audience.
          
          For hearing “what’s the point of taking a class that easy,” for not being allowed to take the class at all. Hearing “I can do better,” or worse, that noncommittal “oh.” For working hours, not even given a second of someone’s time— parents that occasionally glanced it over but waved it off and said “it’s fine do your homework.” For knowing you’re not good enough to make a profit from it, for being told a lack of quality was the same thing as being worthless, for believing it. For not being considered “talented” but somehow remaining passionate. For the not-good-enoughs, who never got famous, never got seen, never got anything.
          
          For the creators. Even when you were unnoticed, unloved and embarrassed of your passions. Even when it hurt and got annoying and felt foolish. Even when nobody was looking: you made things. You saw empty space and pulled from the ether. You put your heart and soul into things other people never bothered knowing. You were told you were wasted on what you loved; you loved what other people considered a waste.
          
          No more making in the dark— I want to see what you do even if “it’s bad,” even if nobody else ever asks you to. Come into the light. Make to spite them. Make for a younger you that didn’t have the energy, make because they couldn’t kill what burned in you even after years of suffocating. Make because the idea of not-making is scary. Make for the sheer sake of making, 'cause all art is an act against entropy. Be happy. It doesn’t need to be amazing. Do you know what you’re doing every time you’re creating?

Today, I accidentally brought someone to tears by playing "Country Roads" during our Christmas party. 
          
          Well, that's a first.

－ＧＲＩＳ－ 
          
          Its beauty transcends visuals. The story they tell without a single line of dialogue. The symbolism of a girl going through the stages of grief. Their usage of colors and the messages they send with them. Even the progression and pacing, the puzzles and platforming, the themes, the audio design and music. All of it. 
          
          It's an utterly awe-inspiring experience. 
          
          https://imgur.com/a/dVxSMGA