A matter of taste?

“You are 17.”

“Yes, I’m still a child.”

I couldn’t wait to finish the previous chapter, because I have already decided that the next one is going to be about the past. My plan was changed by the doctor’s visit today. She came to talk to me about my social life. She advised me, we ate together (that word), I showed her photos from my excursion… Anyway, I’ll focus only on things I really matter. While we were looking the photos she said I took good photos (“good landscapes”) and that they should buy me a camera. I said they don’t want to. She said: “This year excursion, the next prom. Wait”. After we saw the three-string photo on the ship she said: “… But some photos are a complete failure”. I knew I had some not-good photos in which people were not completely captured or the reflection from the windows of the bus, but I asked her “WHY?”. She replied “Well, you have pictured strings. Or they represent something to you?” I said: “They represent something”. “What?”, she questioned me. “I don’t know.” – I responded. “To see the sky” – “OK, it should be seen, as well.”

If you ask me now: 1First of all everything is ART. 2Personally, I took that photo because M.N., the person I loved the most, published on Facebook strings connected to a lamppost. When you love someone you start to copy him/her. In this case I loved what she loved. And it stays in my mind although she isn’t my love now. Just because of that I took that photo. Just because of her. Just because of love. 3Actually who the doctor is to comment things like that?

I wanted to attract attention and I opened my quiz in Power Point about people from Zlox from 2008. She said I needed to forget about stuff like that. Later I opened “Users”. “Users” is a text that was supposed to be a drama. It’s like a story about my life from 5th to 7th grade dedicated to students who asked school favors from me: homework, preparation for tests, my contacts with them, borrowing etc. She read Episode 1 and she thought it was some imaginary story. “It’s about me”, I spoke and she said “This is when you were 5th grade. You wrote it then or now?” “In 2008”, was my answer.

-Will you read it or I?

-If you want, read it in yourself. I’ll make mistakes.

I warned her about the many Nicks that the text contained. She started.

-This is good. (About inviting me for New Year 2005.)

At the beginning of the second episode she said:

-The things aren’t connected. You’re writing about the church and then “The second half of the year starts.” I don’t understand anything. You gave to Sarah… You have no style. The writers are describing the events. You should fosuc. (She mispronounced “focus”) You don’t have a purpose. What’s the purpose?

-That they use me.

-They don’t use you. This uses you that it took your time. Does your mother use me at work? For 5 denars. You don’t have to tell Daphne. Sarah maybe forgot. I’m not interested in this.

She didn’t want to read anymore. I scrolled to episode 3, she was grabbed by “ring-ring” (“The telephone is ring-ring from Sarah.”) Again, she told me I should describe.

-Here I have a longer event. – I said, about SOS.

-He called SOS with Barbara because they used him…

The d. (don’t even want to write the person’s full occupation – looks worthless at this point) didn’t even want to listen to mum’s sentence until the end. I don’t remember what she said. Maybe that was the moment when she marked “Delete this. It is tiring. Shut down everything.”

Now, my point of view. Like I said it was a text for a drama. An outlook for the scenes. I read it on the Internet, only my sentences were the notes. I admit I didn’t manage to write the actual drama, but even if I did, it would have been better to have shown her the text because there wasn’t time it to be read, so…

Who knows more about screenwriting? I wrote the event faster because that was the way to show my target at the start. It is a mixture of occasions in which my classmates were using me to have better achievement at school. That’s what the viewers want. They separate half an hour of their time for the show and I should feature the best I can. It might be played some music while I give homework to the users, borrow workbook or answer to a phone call. Dynamics. Move the things on. That’s one of the essential needs to make the series good. However, why am I writing this? I think I blinked enough in front of the other people. It’s time to raise my eyebrows and say “I’m better than you.”

Later that day I had a contact with Ethan. We couldn’t get the school report card on the arranged day -1St of July, because Vince, our head teacher, didn’t get on time to give the secretary to write register number, so we left from Preevytip without them. On Monday Vince went to mum’s workplace and gave her my grades along with few report cards belonging to some classmates. Those were: Sarah, Mary, Darryl, and Ethan’s. After the doctor’s leaving, I and mum discussed about the ways of giving the report cards to their owners. And guess what? I was sitting near the window and when I looked through it I saw Ethan with his motorbike. I told mum. She said “Call him”. He was taking the turning, I called “Ethan” not very loud. Called him again. He didn’t turn around. Then mum called him, he stopped and raised his head toward the window. She said to me “C’mon”.

I: Your report card is at my place.

Mum: Your head teacher brought the report card of the students from Zlox.

I took it and ran to give it to him. Later mum told me he asked: “Will he throw it through the window or he’s gonna bring it down?” and mum answered. I opened the gate and I gave it to him. He said “Thank you” –as he is used to- and he wasn’t looking at me. Of course, everyone would understand: the final grades were more important.

At the end of this chapter I wanna ask: Why not the doc (male, her husband)? Why didn’t he come?

Advertisements

About Real real me

Writing a diary. Life is a FIGHT!
This entry was posted in Uncategorized and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s