Media 2 project - Week 4. We had to make a 5 minute recording doing whatever we want revolving around one memory. I picked the most obvious memory: walking through the airport to meet Tim for the first time. The thing I hated the most about this project is recording myself. I hate listening to myself talk.
This is so so so so so so so wonderful. I can’t even explain how much I love this.
This is done by a wonderful girl and photographer names Rebecca Solares about the first time she physically met her boyfriend Tim whom she began talking to over Flickr.
I think we underestimate the amount of relationships that begin today via the internet. I think anyone that has had that day where they first physically meet the person that that is the most nervous, sick, happy, excited, feel like you’re going to throw up feeling ever.
Maybe it means something cause I’ve kind of been following her story a while but I think its powerful regardless.
A story where a character has let the another character down.
(By the way this story in particular is all real life and I understand that its long, don’t read it if you don’t want to.)
“What?” she said in the most empty of voices. She felt as if her heart had just stopped functioning altogether. It had been running on the last of its metaphorical legs, her heart that is. With everything that had been going on in the past couple of arduous weeks she had finally come to terms with what was happening, she was ready to start accepting what was being ripped away from her. She thought she was prepared. That was clearly a mistake. “She’s already gone, we have to go.” said her father in his nervous yet oddly calm voice. He got up and started walking around frantically gathering up his car keys and calling her sisters from the other rooms saying in that same oddly calm voice, “We have to go.” She sat there for a minute thinking about what just happened, feeling like she was in some kind of strange dream-like deja vu. She rose from her chair, carefully as to not to injure the chair, and walked slowly toward the door, so slowly in fact she felt like she was floating in this dream sequence. When they arrived she had realized she had forgot her letter, but it was already too late anyways. The letter would have fallen on deaf, dead ears. The whole family was there. She could see the top of her grandfather’s bald head as he was sitting in his big, brown rocking chair sitting still as possible as if he didn’t want to be a bother to anyone around him. Everyone else was somber and calm, aside from her mother and a friend who were discussing with the nurse what needed to be done. She was scared to even walk in the room because she knew what would be there even though she hoped to heaven, hell and everything else that this was just all one horrible dream. She walked in and there it was, her grandmother laying lifeless and peaceful on the hospital bed where the couch used to be, you could even still see the indentions from the couch legs on the floor. This definitely wasn’t this rooms natural state. The night went on and all she could do was sit on the couch across from the hospital bed and look. She studied every feature of her grandmothers face, her slightly large forehead, her cheekbones, her chin, and she thought about her blue eyes that were now hidden behind the closed lids, but most of all her grandmothers nose, the same nose the girl had inherited from her. For a hour she sat and studied her as they waited on the funeral home to come retrieve “the body.” When she couldn’t study her anymore she went and sat in her grandmothers room and studied it just as she had studied her grandmothers face. The curlers sitting on the dresser next to the jewelry box full of items that had not been worn in years, the sewing machine that her grandma used to fix all the rips and tears in clothes over the years. Her grandmother was good at fixing things. When she ventured back to the living room she watched her brother kiss their grandma on the forehead and say goodbye, then her dad decided it was time to take their younger sisters home for bed. Her mom, mom’s friend, and grandfather had drifted to the backyard so it was just the girl and her grandmother left in the room. She walked up to the hospital bed and touched her grandmother’s hand and said “I’m so sorry, I spent three hours last night writing you a letter and I didn’t even make it here in time to read it to you. I love you so much and I’ll never forget you.” The girl had never felt so disappointed in herself in her whole life.
So I’m taking a creative writing class and this was my first “creative” assignment. However, I didn’t go to class the day we were supposed to turn it in so its not going to be read or graded -___- So I thought I’d post it here.
The basis of this assignment was that the characters were supposed to have some sort of disagreement.
96% of this is made up the other 4% are references to songs and perhaps real life. +10 points if you get the references.
If You Walk Away
“Why not? Why can’t we be together?” she said. She looked at his every feature studying his face looking for some hope of agreement. He sighed and said, “I’m just not a good person, I’m not right for you,” he said thinking about how he could never be the person she wanted him to be. They both stared at each other with small tears running down their faces. She loved him, with all her heart, even though they had not been together very long. She knew she loved him from the moment that she me him, though she could not believe she had let herself become one of “those” girls. She had never been with anyone like him, yet loved everything about him instantly, the way in which he spoke and manipulated the words he used in to perfect sentences, the way he moved his glasses up the bridge of his nose when they sunk too low, the way he leaned whenever he felt awkward or embarrassed and what got her most is the way he kissed her. Every time it was like they hadn’t seen each other in weeks or months, and it was a nervous kind of kiss like it was the first time, every time. “Some day someone will love you like you deserve to be loved” he said doing that thing with his glasses and standing that awkward stance. “So are you saying you do or you don’t love me? Or, is it that you just don’t love me more than your damn movie scripts?” she said in a shaky yet strong voice as she wiped away the tears that escaped her eyes. “My life is my own sad movie” he thought to himself. She was something he never expected to happen. Usually he was the one chasing one girl after another with no actual hope of making them his and he knew it. He knew it so much that his online profile even stated “I’m always in love with someone, but they usually don’t know about it.” He could not even explain what he felt for her, he was pretty sure that it was not love. He, honestly, did not even know what real love was. All he knew was the love he saw in the movies he had immersed himself in since his parents divorce. He thought they loved each other but it turned out they didn’t, or at least didn’t love each other the way people who are spending the rest of their lives together are supposed to. She had eyes like the summer and her hair always smelled so good and he loved the way she breathed when they were lying in bed together, while his was erratic and unsure, hers was always slow and steady as if she was sure about something. She was emotional, slightly nerdy, and stubborn as hell and he wished he could love her they way she’s meant to be loved. “I am saying that you deserve better, than me, you are everything I could have ever asked for in a girl, but… I don’t love you and you don’t deserve someone who doesn’t love you, no one does.” He spoke so softly she could barely hear him, but she knew that this meant he was being honest. She thought for a moment and said, “If you walk away, I’ll walk away, but tell me which way you are going so we never see each other again.