This week we went through the 3rd and final storytelling tool: Experience.
This brings up a question in me, how about those people who do not have as much experience in life? wouldn’t they be at a disadvantage with this tool?? well, the letters to the past was quite fun, but its really very emotional though, its really nice to reminisce about the past once in a while. For me it does get very emotional, thats why i password protect it. And i would very much like to delete it after grading…
Everything about you – where you were born, what food you eat, the bump on your forehead – your experiences are unique and irreplaceable.
How could anyone not agree with this, i feel that this is what makes the world interesting, imagine if the everyone is identical, we’d all be freaks! everyone will live in peace(maybe, not saying its a bad thing though) and we would never be able to enjoy happiness/peace/love why you may ask? because we need the downs to feel the ups.. don’t understand? basically, we need darkness to have light, if there is no darkness, we would never know what light is. get it? (still dun get it, come and find me,i’ll hammer your head! haha)
After that we each wrote a true and false story,mine is at “storytelling assignment”, do give your comments=)haha.. it is really true that real life never ends, it just goes on and on and on and on and..you get the point. well, i guess the purpose of films is to give people a fixed ending to a story. And as it was once said, real life is boring, which is true.
True stories are not always good stories, good stories need to be worked and reworked and reworked
“that means we will never truly be ever satisfied with our story?”(perry)
“yes”(mr tan)
“then like this how?”(perry)
“thats why you work and rework until your deadline”(mr tan)
“oooohhhh”(perry)
Well, there is really nothing much focus on right now except finish up our stories=) and this is my final draftdraft=)
“ Why does she always get doted by you? What about me? Ain’t I your daughter as well!…” On her bed, a tear makes its way down her cheek. Charlene lies in her bed; she rubs her eyes as she holds on tightly to the family picture. The argument never seems to end.
Her sister, Chantale rebukes her mother again and again, they are both in tears and with every reply, Charlene worries for her family. She remains motionless as her sister enters the room, grabs her handbag and jacket and stomps out of the house.
The gate slams, and her mother’s weeping amplify the hallway. Charlene walks out and sees her mother’s back facing her; Charlene walks up to her mother and hugs her.
“I’m ok darling, go to sleep.” Her mother pats her head and goes to the kitchen.
Charlene looks out of the window, and down to the roof of the multi-stories carpark. There she sees her sister alone, crying. Charlene turns around and stares at her family portrait, hanging proudly, all smiles. Tears erupt from her eyes, she runs to her bed and hugs her Winne-the-pooh soft toy. She stares at the ceiling “ None of this would have happened if i wasn’t born. But I think she’s just jealous. But mummy and daddy have really been bias against her…”
On the roof of the multi-storied car-park, Chantale sits with her back against the barrier, stretching her legs with her feet pointing up towards the night. She gazes across the cold concrete, and sets her eyes finally onto the misty sky. The stars peek at her from yonder, as though sparkling a game of hide-and-seek.
“Coke?” Peter comes from behind and offers her.
“Thanks” Chantale wipes her eyes and smiles, “I’m really sorry that I have called you out at night, I just nee..” Peter hugs her, interrupting“ No worries, what are friends for?”
Chantale clears her throat; all that crying has rendered her unable to speak. Peter looks at her and says “take your time, we have the whole night” Chantale, wipes her eyes and looks down, saying
“I feel so unloved by my parents, I can never meet up to their expectations! So many a times I try, but I get blamed for everything even when it’s clear that my sister’s at fault. I really hate my family..” Peter sits there, not interrupting, nodding in acknowledgment.
Charlene rolls around on her bed, there’s too much on her mind. She sits up and gazes out her window, she picks up her phone and dials for her pillar of support and family friend, Hosea.
“hello?”
“hello, argument again?”
Hosea could hear Charlene’s shaky voice
“yes”
“feeling better?”
“why does she hate us so much?”
“I guess perhaps its because she doesn’t feel loved? Most of the time, attention is on you instead of her?”
“that’s my parents fault already, is there anything I can do?”
“perhaps you could..”
She glances at the lift as Peter smiles at her while the lift descends. She enters her house finding her sister sleeping on the sofa. Chantale walks pass ignorantly but something catches her eye. A piece of foolscap in the shape of a heart with her name written on it sits on the table.
Chantale turns around and picks up the letter. Chantale removes her jacket and places it over Charlene. She walks to the kitchen table and sits down.
Hi sis,
I really don’t know what happened to make you hate us so much, hate me so much. But I just want to let you know that no matter how much you detest or loathe me, I will always love you
Love,
Charlene
Charlene comes from behind and embraces her sister.
“I love you sis”
-perry