For assignment two of this module I submitted a creative piece on masturbation, using the first line "it always hurt." I wanted to post the full version on here so that any readers could see it in its entirety before I had to shred it of a few hundred words in order to fit the word limit requirements. I think that after having edited many words, it lost a lot of depth and creativity, becoming very shallow and somewhat pointless. The ridiculous word limit of 300 words prevented me from expressing any kind of creativity, as I had to keep everything brief and basic.
Despite the inferior edited version, here is the complete first draft of the segment I chose to expand on. I hope the marker of my assignment can read this and realise what I was trying to achieve.
Walls.It always hurt. Fools. They’re puttin’ up a wall next door. They build a wall ev’ry year and it just falls down again. The soil can’t hold it or somethin’. Me ma’am says we need it, but I don’t think so. I think it’s pointless. I mean, what does it all mean? What can it all mean? It’s ever since me dad died, and I started gettin’ into books an’ that, that I’ve been thinking about that sort o’ stuff- ya know, like what it’s all about. And it’s every spring they come an’ do this, ev’ry school holidays. So I’m always thinkin’ about it the same time o’ year, about human beings an’ life an’ stuff, real deep things. Like what they do an’ that. Ya know. Thing is, I don’t see why I have to see their stout shoulders pickin’ up boulders all the time. Me ma’am keeps tellin’ me to come away from the window an’ that and do somethin’ useful, but I can’t. Somethin’ makes me watch ‘em for hours. Soon as I hear the cement barrel rollin’ in the mornin’, that’s it, I’m up and I’m there for the whole day. Watchin’ an’ thinkin’. I guess they must think I’m really sad or somethin’ or I’ve got nothin’ to do. They probably think I’m a voyeur, but I’m not. I jus’ like watchin’ that’s all. It makes me think of all sorts o’ things. Ya know, liftin’ up stone after stone when ya know it’s gonna fall down again an’ you’ll be here doin’ the same thing again next year. And ev’ry time I see it, I’m a year older. The builders are huge and really sweaty. There’s two of ‘em. They work like machines. Ya know what really gets me though? They never smile or nothin.’ Their faces are all serious like they’re gonna die if they don’t do it or somethin.’ But they’re faceless. They’re like livin’ in the Stone Age or somethin.’
Walls. They’re funny things aren’t they? I mean, they’re ev’rywhere. In wars, between neighbours, ev’rywhere. It’s even the name o’ that ice-cream isn’t it? I suppose barriers is what I mean. Always tryin’ to stop people from getting’ somewhere. You could be walkin’ to the shops to buy milk or somethin’ an’ then all of a sudden, you’ll come to a dead end. I mean, that’s gotta be a metaphor for life, ain’t it? They shut people away in walls as well don’t they? In prison, they don’t have any o’ this fancy quilted paper you see on the tele, they jus’ have walls- bare walls. An’ that’s it. They must feel like they’re in a box, but no one ever opens the lid an’ lets ‘em out. I mean, it’s like, they put Winston into Room 101 didn’t they? An’ that book about that man Frederick, that walls that ladida Miranda away in that little box room…Oh look, there’s Mr. Briggs from next door, he’s the man who wants the wall puttin’ up in the first place. I think he’s right dim. He’s havin’ a word with one o’ the builders. He’s a fool too. I bet I could teach him a thing or two about the wall- like it’s pointless. I mean, don’t he know about Sisyphus? This guy Sisyphus who’s rollin’ a really big stone up a hill somewhere. He has to do it all the time like, ‘cause it’s his punishment, but least he knows it’s pointless. I wish he could come an’ tell him. He’d probably listen to him. But me m’am says we gotta have it. She says we’ll fight an’ stuff if we don’t. She says that a fence will make us good neighbours. I don’t understand that though. How can they? See, when they build a wall, I can’t play with their dog. An’ I think the dog feels the same way. I know it does, I can feel it, like a sixth sense. I mean, have ya read that real scary story about the black cat that’s buried behind the wall? Walls are jus’ nasty things aren’t they? I don’t understand the point of walls meself… then again, there’s a right moron who works in the grocery store round the corner. His granddad owns the store so he picks up the mess an’ that. But he’s a right cheeky monkey. I’ve seen him pullin’ faces..I wish someone’d wall him in.
Walls though. They’re ev’rywhere. There’s one that divides our brains up even, ya know, a divide. Makes me think that does. Maybe we’re meant to make walls after all. Divisions. Ya know, maybe God made us to put ‘em up. I mean have ya heard that song by The Doors. Me dad used to listen to it all the time. It’s called ‘Break On Through to the Other side.’ It even sounds like it’s about walls. An’ the first lines are, ‘You know the day destroys the night/ night divides the day.’ I mean, that jus’ shows that there are borders in nature too. So maybe there have to be. I mean, night an’ day, the sun an’ moon takin’ turns, ‘cause one of em’s always behind a wall waiting for the other one to come down. That’s why I suppose people like eclipses so much, ‘cause it’s a moment of unity, where the wall is broken. I mean, if there weren’t walls, what would there be? Space? But that’s outside the world, we can’t copy God’s idea can we? So maybe that’s why we have to build walls. You’re either left with space or a grumpy man. That’s what me teacher told me once. I was on this trip an’ me teacher told me that his neighbour put up a new fence in his front garden, but when he woke up the next day, he looked outside the window and it were gone. Someone nicked it. He explained to me how it were ironic an’ stuff, ‘cause a wall is supposed to keep people out but they stole the means, like. We both laughed at it at the time, but it’s not funny really. I mean, I don’t think Sisyphus would laugh at the irony. I really fancied him ya know. He were really clever. But I suppose we had a barrier too didn’t we? I mean, there were the age gap…an’ oh yeah, he was a teacher and I was a pupil. We were on the wrong side o’ the staff room then really, weren’t we? A bit like that Humbert Humbert an’ Lolita. I mean there was a barrier between them, I suppose it were a moral an’ social one. But I mean, that Nabokov were a genius though. It’s in human relationships all the time. I mean, what about Romeo an’ Juliet? They were ‘star-crossed’ lovers weren’t they? I suppose Maurice an’ Clive were too, ya know, in Forster’s book. With homosexuality an’ that. That were a big barrier in them days. He didn’t have it published while he were livin.’ I mean, it’s a right sad book an’ ya realise that it’s all jus’ ‘cause o’ barriers. I mean, there’s this couple that moved in on this street. They’re really young so ev’ryone knows ‘em, ‘cause all the young people usually move out. It’s mostly oldies here. People say it’s gonna be a ghost town or somethin’, but I can’t see any ghosts anywhere. They must be on the other side of the wall. Yeah, so anyway, there’s this couple who are mixed race so ev’ryone talks about them all the time. Ya know about how come he’s with her an’ stuff, an’ how come they got a baby. They treat ‘em different. Like they gotta avoid ‘em or act like it don’t bother ‘em, but I know they’re jus’ pretendin.’ They talk about how it’s an ‘interracial’ marriage an’ stuff, when really they wouldn’t even have heard o’ that word before, let alone try to pronounce it. See, if we didn’t have barriers then nasty things like Racism wouldn’t exist would they? Or Sexism or Sizism, or any isms.
We’re all obsessed with walls, that’s what it is. I mean, what about the North-South divide we all talk about? An’ the Equator? I mean, there’s no real belt that goes round the world, but we’ve made one haven’t we? An’ the Great Wall of China. They say that ya can see that from space, but what’s all the hype about? It’s jus’ a wall. An’ what message is that sending out to alternative life forms if they wanna come an’ see us some day? An’ what about Wall Street??!! Americans are full o’ barriers anyway, aren’t they? I mean, they talk about liberty an’ that, an’ unity, but they’re all jus’ talkin’ about walls really. That’s what they mean.
I mean, they tell ya about walls ever since ya born really don’t they? In school. Ya have to stand behind the wall. I keep tellin’ ma’am that I was born in a wall, ya know, the wall in her womb, but she tells me to be quiet and stop talkin’ rude. But it’s true isn’ it? An’ then ya read books like ‘Through the Barricades’ an’ ‘Roll of Thunder, Hear my Cry.’ I mean, they’re fantastic books but they’re really depressin’. And they’re all about barriers of some sort. Not bein’ accepted for who ya are. An’ we read this poem by Robert Frost about roads. There was one about walls too, but the message were the same. When ya choose one road, ya inevitably rulin’ out the other one. Like when ya buildin’ a wall, ya automatically rulin’ out what’s on the other side. An’ it don’t matter what side o’ the wall you’re on, you’re always walled outta somethin.’
One o’ the builders jus’ dropped a big stone on his foot. Fool.