Ok. so before I write this post I think I need to clarify,
that the last post dedicated to Lisa was dedicated to her because she helped my
with my confidence and self-esteem issues. Not because she is dead.
Anyway this post is about creative writing, but before I share
my creative writing story I need to give some background to how this came
about, Well I have been working with a woman (not Lisa a different woman) who is trying to get me
back in to the community and make some friends to overcome the social anxiety
issues I have, and one thing I asked her to help me find was a creative writing
club/class so I could get better at writing and perhaps with better skills find
a job writing later down the line, one of the creative writing classes she
found was only on the other side of town, and from the look of the website it
looked really promising but as I got there and was waiting for it to start my
anxiety was increasing so the woman who helped find the class (let’s call her sue) said that maybe we
should go inside and see what the room is like and maybe the guy running it
will be there early and I could talk to him and that might calm my nerves.
But when I walked in,
it was a freezing cold and really dark in this room with no sign of anyone in
sight and with this thing supposed to be starting in just over 5 minutes it didn't really help my anxiety, but after a minute or so a woman came through
the other entrance of the building trying to drag a table in the room, as she
sees us she introduces herself and we explain who we are, now this woman must
have been by my estimations must have been at least 60, and I knew with this
type of course I was going to be the youngest one in the room but it never
really clicked until that moment that it was going to be an age gap that
drastic anyway after all the introductions and a run though on how the group
works, and a few shocked looks about how
I said I don’t drink tea or coffee, but then as the group was introduced to the
activity we had a bag of hats passed round the room and listen to the group
leader read a poem about changing hats that I don’t really feel like I
understood but I feel like I got the general tone (a bit like a human talking to a dog) then with the hats we
were given we had to create a character and write a monologue then read it
aloud and this is what I came up with in 10 minutes
Originality
these days barely exists, I start to ponder as I stand in the back of a dusty
charity shop look at jackets and hats that are probably older then I am.
I
take off my own black hat and place it at my feet, while I put on a top hat
with no top why would anyone donate this ? I take a sneaky picture and put in
on Twitter and then keep looking, trying to find something no one else has, so
I can stand out among the mindless sheep of today but doing this I start to
hate myself slightly who do I think I am to be better than anyone else?
I
put my hat back on and began to leave when I notice some hideous fringe vest
and instantly I think that’s for me. I try it on and I hate it, I mean
seriously hate it I couldn't hate an inanimate object more than I did this one
but I have to have it no one else will so that makes it good right?
The story is pretty short but at the time and in my giant
childlike hand writing it filled an A4 page so yeah
The End.
Oh yeah and my sister said that I should dedicate this post
to some girl named Niamh who reads my blog, but Niamh if you’re reading this
then I would like to say that this is not dedicated to you. Because you don’t like
my blog fan page on Facebook (which only has like five likes which is pretty
sad) so like my page and I will like you.
The Real End.
