Jessica Shaw
Creative Writing #5
10/20/2010
Brushfire Fairytales
I am wondering down the street in the middle of the night. I am still not exactly sure why, all I know is when I was sitting in my room, alone, on a Friday night, something hit me and I knew I had to get out. So I did, I left, and now I am here. In the middle of a road with just the lampposts shinning on me, judging me. Probably questioning the same things I am, why I am I here, alone? As I stand under the commentating light, I decide that I am here because I am tired of trying. Tired of trying to be someone or something I am not.
I think I have completely lost my ability to think clearly. I may have drunk too much of that bottle of lies. I may have smoked so much that it messed with my mind. Nothing is making sense anymore. Why do we continuously try being who we aren’t? I just want to be me, and if I knew who that was I would be that. I have lost track of myself the way I lost track of the time. I head home, no sense in trying to clear my head with air that seems to be contaminated by the lies and make believe world.
Looking in the mirror I realized I don’t look like him at all. I continually think about him how he is not loved at all. When he is not drunk he is always stuck on himself. But that seems to be how everyone is, and alcohol doesn’t even fix it for some people. I pace around my room deciding what my next move is going to be. Then a picture caught my eye. I glanced without really looking close, just know what the picture was of, my graduation. The memory made me smile so I go back to the picture to take a closer look. I pick it up, it is not me it is him. But it is me; I remember that moment in time exactly. It is me or was me. At this point I don’t even know anymore.
When I said I lost who I was, I did not notice at what extent. I am the man I hate the man I thought I was nothing like. I looked back in the mirror, no longer knowing what or who was real. I leave lighting the whole place on fire, everything would be gone, not I could change. In a time where nothing makes sense, you have to realize you aren’t the only one afraid of change.
Wow, what an intense posting. I had to read it several times cause there is just saw much in it to pay attention to, so many things that I liked reading. Especially the use and meaning of the words "I" and "me", just the moments when the person telling the story is talking about himself, or the person he is seeing when he looks in the mirror. A person that looks like him, it WAS him but it isnt anymore. He is seeing a person that he never wanted to become and hates the most.
ReplyDelete"I pick it up, it is not me it is him. But it is me; I remember that moment in time exactly. It is me or was me. At this point I don’t even know anymore." I enjoyed reading this sentence. It has so much in it, the person having lost his identity, not knowing who he is anymore, just knowing that he had an identity once in his life, but lost it. The idea of seeing oneself but not recognizing that person any longer. This idea is perfectly combined with the self-disgust of the person. Knowing the reasons for the self-disgust (alcohol) but being so addicted to it, hating but loving it at the same time, that one does not want to change.
Reading this post makes me think the problem in the world that people are not being themselves and are not acting the way they want to; they have become persons they never wanted to be, know this, but cannot change anymore.
I am glad the end of this posting makes me feel hope for the person telling the story, since many people in real life cannot change anymore and cannot give up the addiction to alcohol for example. How many people have ruined their lives being addicted to alcohol! This person is afraid to change, but is not too afraid not to try...many people are though!
I really, really liked this story. I really loved the vivid details you used. My favorite line was about drinking the bottle of lies and how you tied that into alcoholism, lost identity, and the fear of change. This character's struggle with self identity I astounding and very real at the same time. It begs the questions, how do we lose ourselves, and who are we when we aren't ourselves. I liked how you explored the issues that are often the base of any identity crisis. Regardless of all the pain and problems the charcter is dealing with you end this posting on a hopeful turn. The charcter seems to realize that everyone has similar fears to him especially regarding change; but these fears do not have to be crippling, it is possible to move through them to the other side.
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