Naruto Oc MakerName:
Were they born in said village?:
If not what is their original village of birth?:
Why did they leave their birth village?:
Defensive or Offensive:
Name(Made by Masashi Kishimoto):
Name(If You Make Your Own):
How Do They Activate It:
How Is It Used:
Letter to a fatherDear Father,
As I sit in a room two continents away, surrounded by clothes and books and pretty things, all bought with money provided by you, five years into a degree funded by you, I type away this letter.
Dear Father, two days ago you laughed when I excitedly showed you a photo of a thirty-five-bedroom castle and said that one day I will buy it, and you told me that at my age you had stopped having those grandiose dreams. Let me tell you a different story. Nineteen years ago, you pulled a drawer out of your wardrobe, to reveal a drawer behind it, and within this drawer was a single item: an old, ornate, large iron key. You told me it was the key to the gates of your Castle in Spain. Only years later did I learn that in French, "castle in Spain" means castle in the air.
Thanks to a man who never stopped dreaming... but who put his dreams aside to help his daughter make hers come true, today, I can dream.
Dear Father, when they ask me if I have a role model, I name you. You may be gru
To a twin sisterDear girl,
It took me twenty-two years and a hundred crumpled-up cast-away beginnings of letters to finally write something coherent to you.
I wanted to tell you that I have been in your life from the day you were born, as you have been in mine, and that I do hear your whispers at night when you beg me to reply but, like you, I am trapped on the wrong side of the mirror. I want you to know that I look like you and we have the same eyes of veiled wistfulness and reined-in hope. When you were thirteen and you wondered why your eyes changed from stormy grey to chocolate brown, I wanted to reach out and tell you that you were simply binding your heart tighter to mine and that we were becoming who we were meant to be to each other. We are twins of the same soul and we share the same hesitant smile and lopsided chin.
Dear girl, I see you in your oversized jumper that covers your slender wrists and too-thin body, and your pyjama trousers that hide the two layers of tights you wear t
Asperger syndrome - Not weird, strange or odd(Personal notes are in italics, e-mail excerpts are not)
On the morning of 9 December 2013, Channel Nine breakfast show Today introduced a story about singer Susan Boyle having Asperger syndrome, referring to this condition as an "illness". Below is an e-mail I sent to the show just to clarify a few things about Asperger syndrome (from my point of view), in the hope that they (and other media outlets) would have a better insight into why Asperger's (as well as other forms of autism) should not be classified as an "illness" or "disease".
To whom it may concern,
Regarding your introduction to the story about Susan Boyle having an "illness", I would like to point out that Asperger syndrome - make that any form of autism - is not an illness or disease, but it is something that dramatically impacts the person that has it and their families and requires constant adjustments to thinking and actions. More often tha
for you, for hope.i've been diagnosed with major depressive disorder, in fact, i've been diagnosed with a lot of things.
before, it was manic depression with bipolar tendencies or dysthymia; before that, it was chronic depression; before that, it was an anxiety disorder and before all of that, i was just a troubled child.
i'm writing this, not to ask for empathy or sympathy, but to simply provide hope in others: hope in you. i'm a survivor of the wildest war: my own, a battle between mind, body and soul. i've had my entire view of reality get turned upside down and shoved down my throat. i've had all of my dreams shattered against my own bones and all my hope torn apart at the hands of the ones i loved the most
but i'm still here, i'm alive and breathing and so are you.
here, i hand to you, all my deepest secrets. i hand to the world, my painful history that i'll finally let go. i won't disguise them in pretty poems or scribble them into hidden notebooks, but print them here, in col
American GirlDear Maybe-Mama,
I was not a mistake.
It’s strange to think that exactly half of my DNA comes from you, and yet we could pass each other on the street and not even recognize each other.
I’ve never really believed in searching for you, my biological family. I never asked my parents the heartbreaking questions that Hollywood makes small, blue-eyed orphans ask: “Why didn’t my real mother want me?” I’ve never believed in any of that, and I don’t expect that you’d want me to, anyway.
But if we ever did meet, what would we even say to each other? I don’t speak Chinese, and you probably don’t speak English. But, in case you’ve ever wondered about me, here’s a little about myself:
I look different now. When you last saw me, I weighed less than fifteen pounds and could fit inside of a kitchen sink when I needed a bath. But today I am 19 years old and I’m probably taller than you – the nutrition in America is dif
Dear You, Nee: MyselfDear You (Nee: Myself);
Sometimes when I am hazy (See: Unconscious) and out of my mind I think back to those tumultuous days when barefoot was mandatory and dress pants were for old people - I'd laugh, but I wear shoes now to cover my feet, cracked from years of wandering down the same path, and dress pants to present a respectable front for society, that very same one which together we would shun from an alley while sipping cheap beer directly from the bottle, pretending it was wine in a silver goblet, keeping a lazy eye out for the police.
I don't know where we went wrong, where we separated and flew in opposite directions like birds scattered . My fingers lay unmoving on this keyboard as I try to come up with words to express my greatest sympathies for killing you, nothing seems to be acceptable. Nothing seems quite right. What do you say to somebody who's life you took - I am sorry, I am remorseful, I would do it a
what to do- Art VS Parents
Art career VS Parents is actually a very very common issue in many different countries.
First of all, you are not alone in this struggle, many many people are on the same boat sharing the same problem, including your parents.
A lot of parents tend to think doing art makes you starve, and you will be poor all your life if you want to become an artist. They are dead set on "a certain career means more money therefore means more steady life"
Truth is... whatever that popular career is... it may become less popular later because of so many people going into the field, thus lowering the demand. The supply and demand principle applies to all fields, jobs market changes.
OK. To start with the conversation... Lets make sure we know what they think that an "art career" is~~~
Research and Communicate:
Usually they don't know ANYTHING about that career you want to go into, usually the best way to go about it is research how much "salary" you will get paid with doing a certain job
Abe writes to SMeyer....My dearest Stephanie Meyer,
I know upon receiving this letter your first reaction will be to disregard it as some kind of joke. I assure you, however, the return address you see scrawled on the back of this envelope is very real, and so am I for quite some time, actually, despite what your history books may say.
But I digress; my existence is hardly the matter I wish to discuss with you. Does the name "Twilight" ring a bell? I should hope so. For that is the topic of the following letter.
I must admit, when I first heard about this series, I felt only a mild twinge of irritation: Just another vampire romance novel, I thought-full of inaccuracies and dark, brooding anti-heroes. While I could go on and on with my quibbles about any sort of romance with a vampire, your "Twilight" particularly caught my attention.
I'll be frank with you, Mrs. Meyer: it was the most inaccurate interpretation of vampi