A paper conversation

Okay doke, no creative value here at all, just a little conversation I found with all the papers, that Suzi and I had long ago, thought you'd like to be a bit voyaristic...

Suzi: I'm getting a bit worried about that homework now...

Gordon: Nah don't be. Just write some pretentious crap and he'll eat it all up. The pic-poem isn't all that necessary.

But I'd rather do a pic-essay. I can only write pretentious crap when I'm in a mood to do it...

Fair do's. well, I'm just gonna make something up, like looking out at the neighbours but trying to avoid them. Don't worry about it. Hey are you going to Vicki's party tonight?

Cool, cool. I am, erm, possibly going. It all depends. Katie arrives the next day, so if my room is sorted and I 9possibly) have a ball dress then yes, but I'm not sure I have my room ready for her coming...

Ah. Is Katie your American pal? And where did the ball dress come in? Also, even at you party, your room really didn't look that bad!

True, but my mum wants to gut it, get all the junk that sprawls across the floor away... Ball dress - well, we plan things early and the only days I'm getting off from work or school are around then - two inservice days and two saturdays. If I don't get one soon, I probably will be stuck...

Eeek! That sucks! And they're so expensive! I tried to get a kilt and all that jazz while the sales were on, but it was over 300pounds! And that was pretty much half price!

Yup, thats why guys geta kilt for their 18 or 21st birthdays. My dad has his from his 21st, its only just had to be let out... They can be expensive, but I'm going to look in all the sales etc - hopefully, I'll get something nice...

Cool cool! Thats Kool and the gang =) . 18th? Aw man, but my birthdays AFTER the ball!! Aw man...

A letter to Mr. D

At the start of the year, some of you may remember having to send the teacher a letter explaining a bit about yourself... well, here's mine!

Howdy,

I’m Gordon Strachan. I am doing Advanced Higher English firstly because I have enjoyed English so far and it was an obvious choice to follow for that reason. I am also looking forward to creative writing; an aspect I felt was cruelly neglected in Higher. As well as this, I would obviously like to have AH English on my CV.

I am a friendly, confident pupil. I work well with others and get along with people very well. I am incredibly optimistic, with no pessimistic bone in my body. I was born with the happy gene; therefore I am infamous among certain groups for always laughing, whether something is funny or not. I believe I work very well within a team, as well as being a hard working individual. I take part in loads of social groups such as the Duke of Edinburgh’s Award, a local Squash league as well as Pottery classes among others.

I plan to go to University to take Film Studies, preferably at Stirling. I’m not interested in a gap year as the space between school and University will be a long enough a holiday as it is. My ambition is to be a Film Journalist, although I want to work towards my dream ambition of Film Director, which I can pursue outside of education. Film is my passion; it is practically my life. I watch films constantly; sometimes I don’t bother about sleep and just watch Sergio Leone films back to back. Yes, I realise that that is on the verge of obsession.

Regards,
Gordon

And another...

Okay, I dont think I ever intended on handing this in, because it means nothing to me and if you read anything into it, I didn't intend it. Ho hum.

Story by the cemetry
By Gordon Strachan

On top of the hill
We sat and listened.

Stories of another time
Another world, unknown
To us, another life just
A tale.

Yet we sit and listen
To the old man's stories;
Something magic,
Transfixing.

I lost my ghosts to a fairy tale
If only for a moment
All shadows are hidden
If only for a moment

Those happy days under the tree, on top of
The hill.
The story carrying us away...

No ghosts, no shadows,
No fears...

numb

This is a draft that I hoped to put in my folio, but realised that this was all I could write, and to pad it out to the required length would just ruin what I tried to do. Also, it's a bit nothing-ish. But hopefully interesting...

Everything felt so numb. My eyes were still closed but I imagined that should I open them, the bright light would be too painful, so I kept them shut. I dared not move for fear that I’d broken something. How long had I been lying here? I must have blanked out. Unconsciousness isn’t how I’d expected it; I’d imagined it would feel like that knowledge that you’ve been asleep, and that it might be painful, like a headache, or possibly just a dizzy sensation. Instead, it seemed as if my mind had suddenly rebooted and all the junk in my head had been deleted and all thoughts and sensations realigned. Perfect harmony, utter bliss; but absolute numbness.

Still I lay there, savouring every moment before someone would come to see if I was alright. It was quite a height I’d fallen from. Twenty foot wouldn’t surprise me. Even still though, I had to climb up there to untangle it from the branches. Every spiny twig scraping past my face on the way down; strange how I can’t feel them because they would surely have cut my cheeks.

I couldn’t raise my head, but I figured that the kite was now wrapped around my leg. I took a breath and opened my eyes, anticipating the glare of the bright afternoon sun. Nothing; for a fleeting moment, I considered whether I’d opened them at all. Complete darkness – both soothing and distressing at one time – had I been lying there for longer than I thought?

A slight, but steadily increasing anxiety crept into my body, and I began to feel the intense beating of my heart from inside my ribcage. I could hear it through the gound as my head lay with an ear to the gravel. Where was everyone? Why weren’t they coming to check on me? I remember them all standing below me, egging me on; all with the same smug sound in their voices. All secretly laughing that I was the one to get my kite stuck in the tree. I kew that I should have felt searing panic somewhere within me, but as I lay there, that panic was missing. Just plain contentment; and it felt good. The beating settled, and the sound in my ear and the thudding of my chestsubsided to the gentle whispering and whistling that accompanies silence. I used to hate this sound at night, when I couldn’t decipher where it came from, and was forced to try and sleep through it. Now, however, it was calming and consumed my entire body. I slipped into the quiet subconscious and I stopped caring about everything. Where everything was and what was around me. I was peaceful, and waned to sleep. And the whispers and whistles sang to me, as I imagined oblivion and sank slowly into the darkness; happy.

A trail of incoherence

Here's my attempt at free-writng during one of the workshops where we had to scribble down anything that came into our heads. Definitely not a masterpiece.

...The smell coming from this seaweed is really beginning to eat away at my nose which is saying something considering I have so much menthol stuck up my nose. It's surprising I'm able to smell anything. God this pen is messy; I'm getting ink all over my fingers and I write so messily when I'm writing in a hurry. Hmm, I'll tell you what, its not the seaweed that's eating me, its the damp salty smell from the wood. Like polluted waters, you know, that bit of the beach you avoid walking over, the line of seaweed, wood and bottles that gets left at high tide mark. Hmm, oh well, I'm seriously not sure where this is going. My pencil case is red and its surprisingly distracting. It's strang (damn, a spelling mistake, makes the page look even messier) anyway, I was talking about the red, but can't be bothered back-tracking. I like being left handed. Kinda like I'm the....

...............

Okay, since we've now finished English, I suppose that gives me an excuse to get all my old stuff like drafts for Creative Writing out the way and on here. First off, something kinda depressing, but there you go.

Some Time Ago
By Gordon Strachan

Trying to remember the colour
Of her Eyes
It's been so long
So long.

Were they blue
Or had they been green?
I was once proud,
Happy moments
When I could remember
So long ago now
So long ago

You fell asleep there
On your bed
eyes closed, but for a faint
Flicker
The gentle pulse of your heart
Echoing through me
Echoing through me
It's been a while now
Since you closed your eyes
Can't see them anymore
The pulse has faded
Blue?
Green?

How long will it be
Before I lose this memory
Of your smile while you slept?
So long ago
So long

I should say goodbye now
To save any more aching
I must let you go now
My mind, it's slipping
You will se me one day again
Yes, with those green eyes!

So long, my love
So long