I got a sudden memory burn!
When I was in fifth grade, there was a cartoon on TV, that I whatched every single morning!
With the years, I forgot almost everything about it, even the name of the catoon.
There was one thing I never forgot about this cartoon: the Music.
The Opening song. Beautiful!
Me and my best friend used to sing this all the time! We were addicted to it! And we both still sing the portuguese version, all the time.
I can't find the portuguese version anywhere, except in youtube: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vvgrVcanOMc
for the portuguese version.
Well, my best friend found the original japanese version today!
The cartoon is called MARMALADE BOY.
This is a romantic cartoon. About a girl, whose parents are going to divorse and remarry. She falls enlove with her new stepbrother.
The lyrics of the original opening song, "Egao ni aitai"
("I want to see your smile") reflect the philosophy of Marmalade Boy: in fact it isn't a proper love song, but they are more the thoughts of a happy-go-lucky teen-ager in love.
The original version lyrics are completly different from the portuguese version, but they're pretty cool too(the portuguese is far, far better).
Either way, here's the song, translated to english from the original japanese.
You can listen, over there, on the immen thingy.--------------->
"Egao ni Aitai" (I want to see his smile)
First opening song
Translation by Richard Uyeyama
Dakedo ki ni naru,kino: yori mo zutto...
Togireta yume...
futari no tsuzuki ga shiritai!
That's what I've been thinking of...
This morning, more so than before...
An interrupted dream...
I want to know how it ends for... for him and me!
Ah, kami-sama... jikan o... tomete yo.
Kyo:kasho... seifuku... mada kami, kawakana...i.
Ah, tasukete... [ribbon] ga kimaranai...
Aitsu no yume mita sei... yo.
Ah, God if you please... could you stop time?
Stop it for me...
Can't find my books... school uniform... why can't my hair, dry out more quick...ly.
Ah, someone help me... my ribbon won't seem to go on right...
All because of... that dream of him from last... night.
Koge-kake no [toast] kajittara...
Naze ka fui ni... mune ga tokimeita...
Amakute nigai... [marmalade].
Halfway rushing,
I bite into my half-burnt piece of toast...
And then suddenly... my heart gets to beating real fast...
Sweet... and yet bitter too... marmalade.
* Dakara ki ni naru...
Konna kimochi wa naze?
Ima ichiban...aitsu no egao ni aitai! *
* That's why I've been thinking of...
Oh, why are my feelings this way?
All I know is, for now...what I want most, is to see his... his smiling face! *
(end of TV-size version)
Ah, sono mama... shingo:, tomete yo.
Ira ira... hito-gomi... [zigzag]... kakedasu... no.
Ah, konna ni, iki (kokyu:) ga hazundetara...aitsu ga... unuboreso:... yo.
Ah, signal, oh please... could you stop there?
Stop there on green...
Fretting, I try... too dense a crowd... zigzagging...
I run to catch... him.
Ah, what can I do?
Now I'm panting, breathless, cannot speak...
If he sees this, then he'll just make fun of... me.
[Window] de mae-gami naoshitara...mune ippai... hirogatteiku no...
Suki janai no ni... [marmalade].
Stopping in front of a window,
I try to fix my hair...
And then suddenly... my heart opens up to the world...
I don't think I even like... marmalade.
Dakedo ki ni naru,kino: yori mo zutto...
Ima dare yori...
aitsu to egao de aitai!
That's what I've been thinking of...
This morning, more so than before...
All I know is, for sure...he's the one I want to see now, smile on my face!
Sukoshi-zutsu otona ni naru no ka na?
Naze ka fui ni... mune ga atsuku naru...
Suki ni natteku... [marmalade].
Do we become grown-up only a little at a time?
And now suddenly... my heart starts to warm up inside...
Bit by bit, I begin to like... marmalade.
Repeat *
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Is My Life Just Burning Away?
Before reading: I do realize that this seems like I'm overly defending myself and that I am, therefore guilty. But really, I'm just getting my point across.
Agree or disagree, I don't mind.
Well, apparently I'm wasting my life away because I've don't go to school to see what I want to do for the rest of my short life. And I'm not working full time. And I'm living with my mother. And I don't drive. And I don't pay any bills. And I have no direction (not exactly true). And I have no clue what I want to do with myself (sort of true). And I have no dreams (Not true).
And, oh, did I mention that I'm only 18, 19 in September?
Yes, I'm far too old to be having any kind of fun before I turn what? 20? far too old to be living the fun life (like my life is that funny).
Did you know that there are people out there that are about 35 and do what I do every day? They sit on their ass, to go to work or school, on the bus, or they walk there. They sleep trought almost the all day, on the weekends, then they babysit their brothers, whenever they're asked?
But of course, I must be a loser because I'm 18 and I'm okay with it.
I'm not in this big hurry to chance anything in my life, I'm actually happy, right now.
And the only thing I really want , right now, is not to mess my new found happyness.
Is that wrong?
It makes it sound like I'm lazy, when in all reality, I'm not.
I didn't think being 18 would mean that I had to grow up and be 30.
Yes, there are people my age that do go to school because they are actually studying for their future carreer, that do drive or are at least interested in getting their driver's license, that do work full time, that do live on their own.
But I'm not them, and I'm not throwing anything away.
The way I see it, as long as I have plans and that I do plan to follow through, and keep living my life, it's not hurting anybody if I just enjoy life and not worry senseless about everything.
And what if I live a semi fun life for just a couple more years?
Yeah, I bet there are some people out there reading this and saying to themselves "Sara, get off your ass and do something."
But I don't see why being 18 has to be this really life changing age. That I have to get this thing, that I have to work or prepare for my future carrer.
I mean it could be far worse, right?
Like, I could be pregnant and addicted to drugs. Which, I am not.
At least, the only person I have to support is myself.
I say I'm doing alright for my age, even if it's not the best I could do.
I'll get there.
Just let me breathe.
Agree or disagree, I don't mind.
Well, apparently I'm wasting my life away because I've don't go to school to see what I want to do for the rest of my short life. And I'm not working full time. And I'm living with my mother. And I don't drive. And I don't pay any bills. And I have no direction (not exactly true). And I have no clue what I want to do with myself (sort of true). And I have no dreams (Not true).
And, oh, did I mention that I'm only 18, 19 in September?
Yes, I'm far too old to be having any kind of fun before I turn what? 20? far too old to be living the fun life (like my life is that funny).
Did you know that there are people out there that are about 35 and do what I do every day? They sit on their ass, to go to work or school, on the bus, or they walk there. They sleep trought almost the all day, on the weekends, then they babysit their brothers, whenever they're asked?
But of course, I must be a loser because I'm 18 and I'm okay with it.
I'm not in this big hurry to chance anything in my life, I'm actually happy, right now.
And the only thing I really want , right now, is not to mess my new found happyness.
Is that wrong?
It makes it sound like I'm lazy, when in all reality, I'm not.
I didn't think being 18 would mean that I had to grow up and be 30.
Yes, there are people my age that do go to school because they are actually studying for their future carreer, that do drive or are at least interested in getting their driver's license, that do work full time, that do live on their own.
But I'm not them, and I'm not throwing anything away.
The way I see it, as long as I have plans and that I do plan to follow through, and keep living my life, it's not hurting anybody if I just enjoy life and not worry senseless about everything.
And what if I live a semi fun life for just a couple more years?
Yeah, I bet there are some people out there reading this and saying to themselves "Sara, get off your ass and do something."
But I don't see why being 18 has to be this really life changing age. That I have to get this thing, that I have to work or prepare for my future carrer.
I mean it could be far worse, right?
Like, I could be pregnant and addicted to drugs. Which, I am not.
At least, the only person I have to support is myself.
I say I'm doing alright for my age, even if it's not the best I could do.
I'll get there.
Just let me breathe.
Friday, March 6, 2009
Sunday, February 1, 2009
The Flames of the Desert
Today, about two hours ago, my mother finally arrived from her trip to Petra, in Jordan.
She has been showing us the pictures nonstop for the past two hours :')
It's pretty. She got lots of marriage proposals and complemented the market in Turkey.
She bought lots of presents and rocks.
Yes, rocks... don't ask me why, but the woman likes rocks.
She probably has a rock from everywhere she has ever been. We have a plantation of stones in the house.
she also bought sand from the Wadirun Desert, herbs from somewhere, lotion from the Dead Sea, water from the River Jordan, clothes from the market in Istanbul, jewelery from a place in Petra and a magic lamp from some weird place, 'cause "its not magical if you know from where it comes from"...
She began her trip, by going to Jordan, about six hours in the air, with the time difference eight.
She almost expired from boredom.
Once she arrived and passed trough all that airport security, she was confronted with the hard reality of traveling to foreign places: everybody speaks English.
Actually not every body speaks English, but everybody speaks their own different language and the closer you get to a common language is with English. And then you get the weir accents.
She was six days in Jordan, and visit several great places, like the temple of Petra, remember Indiana Jones?
Tons and tons of steps to get to the top, since that temple is built in the inside of the mountain.
She told me she climbed 800 steps and that it was pretty high. So no people with fear of highs or vertigo.
About the steps, my mother said: "in the world, there are trials by fire, trials by water and trials by steps. "
She stayed in some pretty nice hotels and ate weird food. She also rode a donkie.
Then to continue her journey she caught a airplane to Istanbul about four hours, with the time difference six.
In Istanbul the real shopping began.
She says they give you tea in the shops while trying to sell you stuff. Every house looks pretty much the same and there's a lot of poverty.
And dust. Lots and lots of dust.
Once again more weird, typical food. Like McDonald's in Istanbul, its cheaper there.
All sorts of bugs and different animals.
In the streets, she almost got run over by a truck.
She brought lots of earrings and bracelets, a notebook where you write from the back to the front, lots of clothes and scarves and airplane Turkey nuts.
When I'm big enough (and have enough money...) I too, will travel a lot, to all sorts of foreign places, although Turkey is not on my list. I'm more of a classical tourist. I intend to travel to England and Rome, and Florence, and Venice before it sinks. Then the USA, to get some of my favorite books sign, byKenyon. Then to Japan, probably to buy some decent manga. France for some shopping and German, 'cause I like the way they speak.
That's it folks!
Travel away!
She has been showing us the pictures nonstop for the past two hours :')
It's pretty. She got lots of marriage proposals and complemented the market in Turkey.
She bought lots of presents and rocks.
Yes, rocks... don't ask me why, but the woman likes rocks.
She probably has a rock from everywhere she has ever been. We have a plantation of stones in the house.
she also bought sand from the Wadirun Desert, herbs from somewhere, lotion from the Dead Sea, water from the River Jordan, clothes from the market in Istanbul, jewelery from a place in Petra and a magic lamp from some weird place, 'cause "its not magical if you know from where it comes from"...
She began her trip, by going to Jordan, about six hours in the air, with the time difference eight.
She almost expired from boredom.
Once she arrived and passed trough all that airport security, she was confronted with the hard reality of traveling to foreign places: everybody speaks English.
Actually not every body speaks English, but everybody speaks their own different language and the closer you get to a common language is with English. And then you get the weir accents.
She was six days in Jordan, and visit several great places, like the temple of Petra, remember Indiana Jones?
Tons and tons of steps to get to the top, since that temple is built in the inside of the mountain.
She told me she climbed 800 steps and that it was pretty high. So no people with fear of highs or vertigo.
About the steps, my mother said: "in the world, there are trials by fire, trials by water and trials by steps. "
She stayed in some pretty nice hotels and ate weird food. She also rode a donkie.
Then to continue her journey she caught a airplane to Istanbul about four hours, with the time difference six.
In Istanbul the real shopping began.
She says they give you tea in the shops while trying to sell you stuff. Every house looks pretty much the same and there's a lot of poverty.
And dust. Lots and lots of dust.
Once again more weird, typical food. Like McDonald's in Istanbul, its cheaper there.
All sorts of bugs and different animals.
In the streets, she almost got run over by a truck.
She brought lots of earrings and bracelets, a notebook where you write from the back to the front, lots of clothes and scarves and airplane Turkey nuts.
When I'm big enough (and have enough money...) I too, will travel a lot, to all sorts of foreign places, although Turkey is not on my list. I'm more of a classical tourist. I intend to travel to England and Rome, and Florence, and Venice before it sinks. Then the USA, to get some of my favorite books sign, byKenyon. Then to Japan, probably to buy some decent manga. France for some shopping and German, 'cause I like the way they speak.
That's it folks!
Travel away!
Monday, January 26, 2009
About what's literature, and what's not...
Today my classes for this semester have finally ended!
Vacations! Hurray! I get to sleep late, eat a lot and do nothing but write, read, and watch anime!
I love life!
Ok, after this little burst of joy over the beginning of my vacations, let's now capitulate about today.
Today I did my Oriented Literatures' exam.
Not that difficult actually, and although I don't understand squad of what the man says in class, and always find myself with a terrible need to doze off or just fall asleep, I really understood the exam's question. Yes, it was just one question, it had a text that told a small story, and then asked about the difference between the story being on the real or the literary plan.
Now, here is where the problem begins...
I answered exactly as the professor wanted, of course, this is an exam after all, but I don't really agree.
Let me try to explain, you see, according to some guy name Sartre and another guy named Saussure, (and some others, I believe) just describing events is not considered literature.
The every day life of someone is merely documentary and has no interest to us, is of no consequence to that which we call literature.
That it's only fiction works that have the depth necessary to be proclaimed literature, and although I'm sure they have their reasons to say so, I don't agree... you see, I'm an avid reader of fanfiction, mind you, I don't read everything and I definitely don't like everything I read.
But I always try to keep an open mind and I only have one rule: It has to be well written.
The emotions have to pass trough to the reader... me.
And don't think I don't really care about what are the emotions!
Oh, hell no! as an example I'm not a big fan of angst or big drama in fanfiction, (or in anything I read for that matter) but even the other day, I read a piece so well written that it brought tears to my eyes, there was a depth to it, that could not possibly be achieved if there was a 'Walt Disney fairytale' ending to the story.
I believe all writing, should be considered literature, after all, you cannot achieve perfection without practice, and everything you write, until you write your masterpiece, should also be considered literature.
I think there should be no restrictions on what is literature, because that ends up putting restrictions, on what you read! whether you want to read good literature or any literature at all.
Truly, I'm of the opinion that to understand what is good literature, you have to read some bad literature first!
I think professors in school should teach not just the Shakespeare (which I'm a fan) or the Saramago (which I'm not), but also just plain, every day writing too!
Maybe I will live to see the day in which a teacher will give his students some good fanfiction to read. And demand they review!
I think it was Neil Gaiman, who said:
"I think that all writing is useful for honing writing skills. I think you get better as a writer by writing, and whether that means that you're writing a singularly deep and moving novel about the pain or pleasure of modern existence or you're writing Smeagol-Gollum slash you're still putting one damn word after another and learning as a writer."
And to that, all I have to say is: Amen.
Vacations! Hurray! I get to sleep late, eat a lot and do nothing but write, read, and watch anime!
I love life!
Ok, after this little burst of joy over the beginning of my vacations, let's now capitulate about today.
Today I did my Oriented Literatures' exam.
Not that difficult actually, and although I don't understand squad of what the man says in class, and always find myself with a terrible need to doze off or just fall asleep, I really understood the exam's question. Yes, it was just one question, it had a text that told a small story, and then asked about the difference between the story being on the real or the literary plan.
Now, here is where the problem begins...
I answered exactly as the professor wanted, of course, this is an exam after all, but I don't really agree.
Let me try to explain, you see, according to some guy name Sartre and another guy named Saussure, (and some others, I believe) just describing events is not considered literature.
The every day life of someone is merely documentary and has no interest to us, is of no consequence to that which we call literature.
That it's only fiction works that have the depth necessary to be proclaimed literature, and although I'm sure they have their reasons to say so, I don't agree... you see, I'm an avid reader of fanfiction, mind you, I don't read everything and I definitely don't like everything I read.
But I always try to keep an open mind and I only have one rule: It has to be well written.
The emotions have to pass trough to the reader... me.
And don't think I don't really care about what are the emotions!
Oh, hell no! as an example I'm not a big fan of angst or big drama in fanfiction, (or in anything I read for that matter) but even the other day, I read a piece so well written that it brought tears to my eyes, there was a depth to it, that could not possibly be achieved if there was a 'Walt Disney fairytale' ending to the story.
I believe all writing, should be considered literature, after all, you cannot achieve perfection without practice, and everything you write, until you write your masterpiece, should also be considered literature.
I think there should be no restrictions on what is literature, because that ends up putting restrictions, on what you read! whether you want to read good literature or any literature at all.
Truly, I'm of the opinion that to understand what is good literature, you have to read some bad literature first!
I think professors in school should teach not just the Shakespeare (which I'm a fan) or the Saramago (which I'm not), but also just plain, every day writing too!
Maybe I will live to see the day in which a teacher will give his students some good fanfiction to read. And demand they review!
I think it was Neil Gaiman, who said:
"I think that all writing is useful for honing writing skills. I think you get better as a writer by writing, and whether that means that you're writing a singularly deep and moving novel about the pain or pleasure of modern existence or you're writing Smeagol-Gollum slash you're still putting one damn word after another and learning as a writer."
And to that, all I have to say is: Amen.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Let The Flames Begin...
I love writing
Yes, I do!
I love writing
What about you?
I decided to make this blog, because I felt a need to post my more personal pieces.
My writing is not always appropriate for a group/class blog, so i felt I should have my own blog.
And here he is!
FUEL4LIFE
My life's work.
A blog dedicated to my writings.
All my writings.
It will be a bit like a diary, I suppose...
And I want reviews, so say what you think, please!
I will give you cookies!
Oh, well...
Let The Flames Begin!
Through The Flames I Write...
Another blank page, staring me in the face.
It smirks, and mocking me, says:
"You have no words. Your thoughts have no place on this page. Why stain my skin with that cliché babble? Why bother in the first place?"
I stare down the empty sheet, doing my best to set fire to it with my gaze.
But the best weapons are not my eyes, but my words.
FIRE
I scrawl it across the page.
FLAMES
I draw across the page.
BURN
I recall a line from somewhere, in another voice, from someone else, in a distant memory.
"It was a pleasure to burn."
I could feel the heat on my face, drawing beads of salty sweat that fell, staining the paper.
Smoke stinging my still-glaring eyes.
"Burn," I murmured, willing it with all my being.
All the energy I possessed sped through my calloused fingertips, through a simple ballpoint pen, and tattooed the page with the words of my desire.
I wondered if my words held the power to burn that paper, as it addressed me distastefully. "Worthless," he hissed. "Shit. Trash. Just garbage. Why try? Why waste the ink?"
But I wouldn't accept that.
I would cast my spell, set this night ablaze with nothing but the force of my words.
There would be a warmth and a light, by my own spirit made.
There would be passion and heat.
I would make them see and feel as I see and feel.
Through these simple words, these unextraordinary letters, I would be God for tonight.
I would start a fire with my writing.
It smirks, and mocking me, says:
"You have no words. Your thoughts have no place on this page. Why stain my skin with that cliché babble? Why bother in the first place?"
I stare down the empty sheet, doing my best to set fire to it with my gaze.
But the best weapons are not my eyes, but my words.
FIRE
I scrawl it across the page.
FLAMES
I draw across the page.
BURN
I recall a line from somewhere, in another voice, from someone else, in a distant memory.
"It was a pleasure to burn."
I could feel the heat on my face, drawing beads of salty sweat that fell, staining the paper.
Smoke stinging my still-glaring eyes.
"Burn," I murmured, willing it with all my being.
All the energy I possessed sped through my calloused fingertips, through a simple ballpoint pen, and tattooed the page with the words of my desire.
I wondered if my words held the power to burn that paper, as it addressed me distastefully. "Worthless," he hissed. "Shit. Trash. Just garbage. Why try? Why waste the ink?"
But I wouldn't accept that.
I would cast my spell, set this night ablaze with nothing but the force of my words.
There would be a warmth and a light, by my own spirit made.
There would be passion and heat.
I would make them see and feel as I see and feel.
Through these simple words, these unextraordinary letters, I would be God for tonight.
I would start a fire with my writing.
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