Month: September 2018

I listen to music for relatability. I listen to music because of the way certain songs make me feel or the emotional connection that I acquire from them. There are some songs that hit me a little harder than others or give me such a nostalgic feeling. With that being said, the one currently stuck on repeat for those exact reasons is the Korean R&B artist, Dean’s, single “Instagram”.

“Instagram” is a very thought filled song and personally, I feel quite a connection to it whenever it plays. It was the calming feel of it that captured me at first but I suddenly felt the need to actually read the lyrics for myself. In the song, Dean expresses what many people feel while scrolling through Instagram and the toll that it takes on our lives. In today’s society, social media has taken over so many people’s lives and it can even heavily influence someone’s mental health or just how they view things overall. He touched on the loneliness one would feel while seeing people living everyone’s dream life on Instagram.

In all honesty, I believe that every single line in this song has meaning and depth behind it. However, there were a couple that stood out a bit more. For example, his lyrics in the chorus: “It’s a problem in the whole world./It’s the same love song but it doesn’t touch me./In my night, there are too many thoughts.” You go to Instagram and you see many people living their lives problem free and happily. Fun, right? He’s getting at how isolated people begin to feel because of them feeling that their lives aren’t going the correct way due to societal values and what’s being portrayed on media. The constant dwelling on what someone doesn’t have makes them feel down, depressed, or, as Dean says in his song, lonely. He goes on a few verses and says, “As time goes by, it gets harder./Am I the only one?” Throughout the song, he slides these questions in to show the constant doubt that goes through people’s minds while on social media. It’s the doubt of acceptance. He adds in how he doesn’t want to do things anymore or go out and how he spends majority of his nights on Instagram, dwelling. Hiding behind a mask because everyone only sees what he allows them to see and not how hurt and isolated he really feels. 

In a Spot Interview, Dean talked about the composition of “Instagram”. He told the interviewers that he wanted to make something that sounded like him and that a lot of people in the 20 – 30 year age range feel like him. He said, “So if I speak truthfully about myself, other people could empathize with me. So I’ve started to observe myself as objectively as possible.” He elaborated on how after he finished work, he’d habitually get on Instagram and when he did, he often felt depressed. Just like most, Dean went on to say how he compared himself to the people he followed and felt very small because they were very “cool” people and were able to go to so many cool places while he was tired from working in his studio. One thing that hit me was when he said, “It felt like I was a lonely island placed away from all those people.” He didn’t know if he was the only one who felt this way and in that moment, I thought about all the times I felt exactly the same watching people’s beautiful moments in life and not being able to create my own. 

Relative deprivation is a word he used for the process of writing this song and I totally agree. I relate so much to the lyrics and message of “Instagram” and it makes me feel oddly comforted to know that I am not the only person feeling the same thing. It’s my comfort song and one that I will continuously go to for a long time. 

 

At my old school, we used to have a broadcast journalism class. If you don’t know what that is, it’s basically news. We did podcasts and stuff, and last year had started writing daily articles about what’s been going on in the world. In a way, I guess I should be used to blogging, but what I wrote were half-researched news articles. They weren’t the best, but it kept the class busy for a bit so I can’t blame our director for that. And if you guys don’t know me fully yet, I’m bad at speaking. So being in that class was hell sometimes. I hated doing interviews because I’d be nervous about having to talk to basically a stranger (even though they were usually fellow peers) and they’d be nervous about being on camera. It sucked a lot. I joined the class in my freshman year by accident, thanks to my mom and the sneaky teacher, but I still love them both. 

It wasn’t so bad in my first year because I was the only freshman in the class for a while until another girl joined, and we became the best of friends. But the class were mostly seniors, which sucks because I got incredibly close to them and then they left in May. But that was my best year in high school so far, I’m sure it’ll change though the longer I’m here. But anywayyyy… I’m bad at speaking. But I think I volunteered to be our podmaster for my sophomore year because I wanted to try it out. That was a mistake. The teacher and director had already planned for me to become the director for the class in my junior year, and I was freaked. I already had the script editor position in my first year because my English was “amazing”. But it was strange how it happened. One of the three juniors talked to our teacher one day about my grammar skills and such, and they decided that I needed some position in the class as the editor. I wasn’t around for that discussion. Then he and I were interviewing someone where he mentioned it, and I was hella confused. When we got back to the classroom, the teach was like “Oh yeah, Morgan, how would you feel being script editor? Because you’re our script editor now.” 

That was my legitimate reaction. It was too early in my high school career to give me positions, no matter my capabilities. But I guess it didn’t really matter because I didn’t really have to do much. It was just the thought was daunting at the time. Now, I’m okay with taking on positions, but I have to really want it.  

I’m mediocre. I wear mediocre clothes. My face is mediocre. I make mediocre grades. I don’t really do anything that makes me rise above the crowd. I’m just mediocre.

For a long time, I had high standards for myself. I wanted to be one of the best. I wanted to dress nice. I wanted to look the best. I wanted to make the best grades. I wanted to be one of the best.

As I got older, I found myself not wanting to be the best. I found that it didn’t matter as much to me as I had always thought it would be. I felt myself getting more and more satisfied with my mediocrity.

I don’t know if it was because I simply started to get lazy, or if I was getting more and more of a sense of apathy. But I think that, in the long run, being complacent with my mediocrity helped me through some hard times. I didn’t push myself to try to be the best when I was too tired. I didn’t try to push myself ahead when others were ahead of me. I didn’t want to be the best.

Being the best comes with it’s expectations. When you become the best, you’re expected to always be the best, no matter what. And do you know how hard of an expectation that is to live up to? I know it caused me a lot of negative thoughts when I was younger. As I grew up, I realized that maybe I just wasn’t meant to be the best. I was just meant to be mediocre.

As a society, I feel like we celebrate greatness too often. There’s so many people we see as “the best” at whatever they do. Those people are always expected to do their best, no matter what. I would never be able to live with that sort of pressure.

Why don’t we celebrate mediocrity? We don’t all have to be the best. I’m not saying to not try to do your best, but if your personal best is mediocre for the world, be proud of what you’ve done. You did your best, and even if everyone doesn’t think it’s the best they’ve ever seen, you can be happy in knowing that you tried the hardest that you could, and you should celebrate that.

So I guess what I’m trying to say is, I feel like we put too much focus on trying to rise above everyone else. The world can be more than just a “dog eat dog” world. It can be more than everyone pushing themselves to always do more than that next person. I think it can, at least. And I wish more people had this feeling about the world.

Let’s celebrate mediocrity, for all the people who always feel like they’re inferior because their best isn’t perfect. But that’s okay, because there’s hundreds of people like you out there. And I am one of them. So maybe we can all celebrate our mediocrity together, and though this, we can show the world that there can be more than perfection.

Hey!

So I am totally about to self advertise so here we go: OLE BROOK FEST!!!

I’m playing a few songs there with my band, The Upside. I’m super excited so you guys come on and watch. There are some other great people playing too but ya know.

Ole Brook is going to be so fun, I’m just hoping it isn’t hot. I mean, it will be October, but hey, this is Mississippi.

Also, there is a thing in Monticello called Atwood and I am playing there literally the day after Ole Brook and it doesn’t start until nine, but I am playing for a whole hour and I am super nervous.

I really need to get some outfits together for the events. I have like zero cute outfits though so that makes a great excuse for my mom to take me shopping.

That’s all! Bye!

 

Animation has evolved a lot over time. Studios now have the chance to hand draw frame by frame, or digitally animate. Animation softwares are easily accessible to anyone who wants to give it a try.

A young animator created the series “Nyan Neko Sugar Girls,” which was released in 2010. It was posted to YouTube, and became known as an American anime, despite the fact that a studio never published it, and that it was animated in Microsoft paint.

The story follows the adventures of Raku, who is a teen cat girl, or neko. It is a slice of life show with a magical girl twist. There is nothing that stands out story-wise, as it follows the generic anime episode list. Beach episode, holiday special, ect… the characters are also quite simplistic.

The thing that really sets this anime apart from the rest, is its art style.

The style in which it is drawn is one of its most recognizable characteristics. while the animation can be genuinely good at times, the art style is, in my opinion, absolutely horrible.

While I will try to keep this as unbiased as possible, here’s a judging and review for Nyan Neko Sugar Girls.

Characters

Raku- fan service. Shes the main character, and there’s way too much fan service. her voice is high pitched, and there’s parts of the show where she screams for a minute straight. always getting hurt. not very well rounded.

Koneko- Koneko is the basic supporting character. she keeps a soft voice, and doesn’t really get much character development. While she is kind and helpful by taking care of her friends, i cant help but question her actions. if my friend were dying, i would not bring them on a roller coaster. but hey, you do you, Konek0.

Hitoshi-  This character had a genuine plot twist. maybe the only plot twist in the show. though he was shown as Raku’s love interest, he ends up getting with the kidnapper. that’s not very sugoi, nya.

Kidnapper- I don’t even know what to say about this one. nearly every time he’s shown, backstreet boys music is playing.

Nurse- While the nurse is not shown for long, she is a consistent and reoccurring character. She is initially shown as fan service, but eventually becomes a real, interesting character. Her later shown outfits are the most well designed and complex in the series. However, her overwhelming voice can become difficult to listen to at times. it is extremely bass boosted, but with intention. when she talks without being bass-boosted, a fellow character would say “sorry, what did you say?” making her go back to talking in her original bass boosted voice.

Story:

The story is generic, yet somehow original. It’s one of those things that is so bad that it’s good. There’s somewhat of a plot, a subplot, and all kinds of things. However, it can get hard to keep up with by the last few episodes. every possible archetype that a show can have, this show has.

I have a vague idea of what the intentional plot was, though I cannot say I am 100% accurate. A super cute cat girl goes through a series of events trying to get the guy she likes to notice her. He doesn’t like her back and things go downhill.

Animation:

Little to no effort was put into the animation. The frames are wonky, and the art style can exaggerate things. The only animation where true effort was put in can be found in the very last episode when Raku has another dramatic death.

Voice Acting:

The voice actors themselves are, all things considered, decent. The voices are noticeably fake, as they struggle to keep a consistent voice for their character. The quality of the microphones is less than average. Koneko’s microphone is extremely quiet, but the Nurse’s microphone could be heard from your neighbors house even with the lowest volume setting on your watching device. This can cause issues when the two are in a scene together. However, I still think all the characters have the right voice, and I can’t see anyone else voicing them.

 

Overall:

While I would rate this a 3 out of 10, I think its something everyone should watch at some point. Personally, I would watch it again. Not because its good, but rather because i’m in pure shock that it even exists.  Every meme loving teen would enjoy it. 

So many things are happening at once, and it is all leaving me with a whirlwind of emotions. I’m stressed, terrified, nervous, a little down, and very happy. It’s horribly extraordinary. It feels like I’m scrolling through Facebook, seeing a young man with down-syndrome graduate and then a young woman is missing. I see a child being bullied and then a dog with paralysis learn to walk. My heart is on a rollercoaster, and I’m not sure if I want to get off.

One part of my life is being drowned in chaos. I need to do this, and then I need to do that. This is coming up, but I need to prepare for that. School and home are beginning to bleed into each other and make this really ugly color. I have expectations to meet, deadline creeping up on me, and people depending on me. Do I get to breathe anytime soon?

Then comes that part of my life that wants to run and hide. I am a junior now. I go to a school where everyone is talented. I am intimidated. Next year is right around the corner. I need to start researching scholarships and reassuring myself on colleges and majors. My ACT score needs to shoot up ten points. I am wholeheartedly scared. Everyone keeps telling me not to worry about it right now, but I can’t help it. I’m too paranoid I’m going to wait too long and not be ready. I stress enough as it is, what if I get to college and have a heart attack? The whole idea is giving me anxiety.

Things are getting crazy back at home. Friends are turning against each other; my old school had a bomb threat. It’s unbelievable. Those who graduated last year are tearing themselves apart with pressure. My friends are hurting. It breaks my heart.

Don’t worry though, there is light in my little dungeon. My boyfriend is going back to school, trying to get a car and a license. He is getting a new job that will treat him better and benefit him wildly. He is a little freaked out, but I am so proud of him. He woke up one day and decided to get his life on track. It inspires me to see people who have reached their lowest point, stand up and try again.

I’m trying to not let everything get to me. I know that life isn’t easy, especially not here. I may cry from time to time; I may even get angry, but there is light. Somewhere on this page-of-life, you will find a story of a girl not giving up, and despite all the hardship you are facing, I want you to be inspired to keep going too.

Hello, welcome to another blog post from me. I wrote this fiction short story. Honest opinions, please….

Bryson dreamed of becoming a singer. He dreamt of one day starting a career that would branch into having the opportunity to perform in front of thousands of people. One day this dream miraculously came true.

Bryson was in his cousin’s recording studio singing Gravity by John Mayer, when the astounding Jermain Dupree walked in. The expression on Jermain’s face was a clear sign of amazement. He stopped Bryson and asked, “What’s your name and where you from?” “My name is Bryson and I am from Mississippi,” he answered. They began to converse about what it takes to make it in the game meaning performing music. The next morning, Bryson woke up in an exhilarating mood. He went straight to his cousin’s studio where he received a message from Jermain. The message read: “Wassup, it’s Jermain. After the conversation we had yesterday, I thought it would be good if you came to sing at my Christmas party. It’s going to be December 23rd at 7:00.” As soon as Bryson read the message, he responded: “I would love to. Thank you so much for this opportunity.”

At that moment, Bryson knew this was the opportunity he had been dreaming about. He took into consideration who would be there, what he was would be doing, and where it would be done. Bryson started planning the performance by choosing what he would sing. He felt he needed to pick a song that would showcase what his voice was capable of. So, he decided to sing “Silent Night”. Then, he had to find something to wear. He thought it was necessary to look his best, but also be comfortable. He decided to wear a black pant suit with a sparkling red necklace and handpiece. With the most important aspects of the show figured out, he practiced the song repeatedly until he had it down packed.

The morning of the performance, Bryson woke up determined to take care of his voice so that he could deliver to the best of his ability that evening. He fixed himself some hot chocolate to keep his vocal chords soothed. Then, the time came for him to prepare for the performance. He got dressed, warmed up, and was ready to take the stage. As Jermain introduced him, he started to become nervous. But, when he put the microphone to his mouth, and started to sing, all his nervousness went away. As Bryson finished the song, he felt great about what he had just done, and the audience incited his feeling about his performance. Bryson began exiting the stage, only to be met by Timberland at the end of the stairway. Timberland asked Bryson if he would be interested in signing for Mosley Music Group, Inc. There was no way Bryson could not turn down the opportunity, so he gladly accepted. In that moment, he realized that his dream was more than just a dream.

My knight in shining armor left me.

I was no princess to him.

Just a washed up version,

of a girl locked in the tower of her spiraling mind.

 

I’ve turned this hotel bathroom into my new oasis.

The place where I presume to gather my thoughts,

but I’m doing nothing of that sort.

I’m just making it worse.

 

I looked up to see the reflection,

of a girl I once had overflowing love for.

I now see her dark makeup running down her blush cheeks,

and smeared lipstick creeping down her chin.

 

I started crying even harder because I knew I looked hideous.

I knew he left in his maroon colored getaway car.

Simply because I could never be good enough.

and I never would be.

 

I’ll never have silky blonde hair and ocean blue eyes,

like the girl he chose.

I’d trade my dull hair and basic eyes,

Anyday for a fraction of what she has.

 

“Look at you.

Your hair isn’t straight.

Your face is too round.

Too chubby.

 

You’ll never succeed at that prestigious school,

With thousands of academic driven people.

You’ll only be lonely,

because everyone who meets you, ends up leaving you.

 

I take my bright, red lipstick from my golden clutch.

It’s in a white, cylinder shaped tube,

marked with the name “To Be Beautiful.”

and god, did I believe it would.

 

I start to smear it on my large lips,

because with it,

i’m not as awful as I was without it.

I felt a little more approachable.

I felt less horrid.

 

After I rubbed it into my chapped lips,

I looked into the mirror once more.

I began to cry even harder,

smearing it all over my porcelain face.

 

Next thing I know,

My fist is smashing the dirty mirror,

Over and over again.

I let out a loud scream,

I’m not sure if it was out of physical or mental pain,

or both.

 

I slid down the wall with my knees in front of me,

my blush pink dress that my mother spent a fortune on,

was now covered in red lipstick,

and hurtful tears.

 

I sit there for a moment wondering what I’m doing.

Why I’m here.

What I should be doing.

What my true purpose is.

I get no answer in return.

 

Almost instantly, a majestic figure appears,

on the green sofa in the corner of the bathroom.

She was angelic and mystical.

Frightened, I move away from her.

She stopped me and told me to calm down.

She told me I was safe.

 

“Look at you, my beautiful one,

Your hair’s a mess, and your dress is rugged.

And what have you done with that red paint of yours?

Oh, and your hand, your delicate hand.

 

I looked down at my hand.

There was no scars.

No blood.

It looked perfectly normal.

 

“Who are you?” I ask in shock.

“I am Aphrodite, goddess of love.

I’m here to show you what you aren’t seeing.

Give you a new set of eyes for a minute.

 

Come with me and you will see.”

I hesitated, but carried on with her.

I walked into the pink portal that she came from.

Almost instantly, we were out of this world.

 

It’s green all around,

with white skies and dandelions.

There’s one tree in the distance.

I see a girl sitting on a swing made from rope and wood.

 

She is beautiful and devine.

She has long, dark locks of smooth hair.

And the whitest skin you’d ever see.

She had moviestar looks with sharp cheekbones.

 

I ran towards her, and realized that the girl was me.

She was wearing my prom dress,

And the diamond ring Daddy gave me.

She was gorgeous.

I was gorgeous.

 

“I’ve given you eyes of another.

I’ve let you see yourself away from your prospective,

to show you just how stunning you truly are,

Behind your eyes that have become scars.

 

Millie, you may not see it with your own,

but you are one of a kind.

No one can ever take that away from you, unless you let them,

But if you don’t, you will see this, too.

 

You will succeed in this short life of yours.

Even in the next and the next.

You will become even more great than you already are,

and everyone will recognize this.

You possess the power to become more successful that you could ever imagined.

 

And you are lovely, child.

Don’t let your mind tell you otherwise,

The truth is, you are your own worst enemy.

The cause of all your lies and cries.”

 

“I am gorgeous, and I’ll never forget it.

I’ll treat myself the way she deserves,

Never letting myself see otherwise.

My name is Millie and I am beautiful.”

 

Next thing I know I’m in my room.

With string lights on the walls,

And Polaroids of me taken from a distance.

My dress is clean,

My hand is healed.

I feel at peace.

 

I get up and walk towards the tall mirror by my closet.

There’s a note in the corner.

“Millie, never forget, darling. Never forget.”

I put the note away.

 

I then flip the mirror over to where it’s facing the wall.

I cover my vanity and bathroom mirror,

with towels from our linen closet.

I wasn’t going to let myself forget.

 

I go across the room to get my blue Polaroid.

I put the film in and turn it towards me.

I snap a picture of myself.

This time my face is closer to the camera.

I hang it with the rest of the pictures,

Then lie my head down to rest.

 

Months go by like hours.

I’m now moving into my dorm,

about to embark on a journey that will shape my life.

An amazing adventure that will help me find myself.

 

I open up a box labeled “junk.”

Sitting on top of a silk, black scarf is the tube of red lipstick.

I look at it, observing the grooves in it.

The name I believed rang true.

I let out a sigh.

And toss it into the trash along with a pile of mirrors I once had.

 

Since being at MSA, I’ve started drinking a LOT more coffee. Like a substantial amount more. It’s kinda crazy. I was never ever a coffee drinker before. I loved the occasional frappuccino, and maybe an iced coffee here or there, but now I’m having at least one cup of hot coffee a day. I’m a person with an abundance of natural energy. Seriously, it’s wild how much energy I have without coffee. But with coffee? I don’t think the world is ready.

I’m writing this as I finish my first cup of coffee, and I don’t think my fingers have e v e r moved faster. My mind somehow is moving at light speed, but also I feel as if I don’t have a single thought in my head. My core body temperature has spiked, and I feel ready to go. I imagine this is what super heroes feel like when they fall into a vat of chemical waste or get bitten by a radioactive spider.

With most of my blog posts that I’ve written so far, they are cultivated during a span of a couple of days, because you know I have time, but for this purpose I need to write this all now. Otherwise, what’s the point? During any other day I might not be on the same coffee adrenaline that I am at this very moment.

We did something in class called a stream of consciousness. Most of you reading this are probably either a junior or senior literary, but just in case you aren’t, I’ll let you in on what a stream of consciousness is. It’s just whatever is in your brain. That’s all. I recommend you do this at home or wherever you are.

Right now, I can’t stop thinking about Christmas. I follow a page called “Christmas Countdown” and it indeed has started. 125 until Christmas. How insane is that? Currently, Mississippi is sweltering in the August heat, but in 125 we’ll all be hopefully under blankets during holiday break.

Marathon runners. Also insane. I can barely run a mile without feeling like I took off my space suit in outer space, but there are people that can run 26 miles and survive.  I know it takes insane practice, but how do you even get started? If you’re a marathon runner please let me know. I’m not about to run a marathon, but I am curious.

Next topic, Wikipedia. This has been on my mind because there is that random page generator, and I’ve been itching to see what pops up. Before that though, it makes me sad that Wikipedia is needing donations. I know teachers don’t approve of us using it for information, but it’s still really helpful, and the fact that it’s a non-profit it awesome. Seeing it shut down or having to be commercial is sad. Anyways, random page! I got the page for Wellington, Kentucky. OKAY! Now this makes my mind think. Imagine, there’s a person from Wellington, Kentucky and they do the exact same random article search as I did, and they get Oxford, MS or Brookhaven, MS. That would be cool. Or imagine if you got your own town. The odds of that happening must be so slim.

Wellington, Kentucky though is a minuscule town. It has 561 as of the 2000 census. That’s heckin’ small.

Final topic. Dinosaurs.

As of now in my life, I don’t think I have a favorite. When I was little it was the Plesiosaur, because it was pretty and lived in water, duh, but I’m not sure about now. I’m going to do a little soul searching to find out my favorite dinosaur as of 2018.

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After much research and coming off of my coffee rush a little, I’ve come down to two contenders of my heart, the Minmi or the Stegosaurus. I don’t think I can choose. The Minmi is so cute and underrated that ah!! It just sounds so adorable. The Stegosaurus is a classic though, and there’s a lot more to know about it. I guess my research was overall, inconclusive. Oh well, at least I learned a little about dinosaurs.

Thanks for going through this coffee rush with me, it’s been quite the journey. I do however wanna know yall’s favorite dinosaurs and what random Wikipedia page generates. Has anyone else been drinking way more coffee since coming here, or just me?