Write a response, which is based on the same aspect of journey –
choices. You might choose a narrative, a journal, a letter etc. Create a
character or characters and a situation, which will allow you to present a
point of view about the way choices, affect our journeys. Aim to use some
specific language devices.
Dear Mother,
It has been a
while since I last wrote to you. I have been very busy with my exams. I’ve been
here for more than six months now, and I still don't feel at home. The other
girls are different. Different because they don't like the same things I do,
stay out late and party all night to complain the next day because they forgot
to complete necessary work for the subjects.
Walking around
the grounds, I have found the perfect spot. It’s up in a tree. I am able to see
the white-capped mountains and feel perfectly at home. Sometimes, I don't even
take work up there; I just sit there and listen to the sounds. I am able to
have a few private moments, before I am transported back into my mundane
existence.
I have to
choose which subjects I wish to continue on with. I’m not sure what I am to
choose. My teachers have told me I can do well in any I choose. My head wants
me to go one way – the easy and more successful way. My feet want to follow the
path less taken – the one where I will feel more at home.
I try to get
along with my dorm-mates, but it is extremely difficult for me. They are always
talking about things I don't particularly need or want to have any part in.
It’s always about the next party, or the new dress and down to the last pair of
shoes.
I go to as many
concerts as I can afford. I feel more at home. Where the sounds of the violin
sweep me over the top of the mountains and the mellow brass take me to the
deepest, darkest depths of the sea. When the concert is over. I feel like
crying. Crying because there are only a few places in the world where I can be
myself, act myself and speak my mind.
I stopped
writing last week because I didn't know what else to tell you. I still don't
get along with my dorm mates. Even though I know their names, they still don't
know I exist. I reckon they will know I am here, and working hard, when tests
come around and they need someone to help.
I will help the
mother. I believe they are lost. Lost in the darkest cave at the bottom of the
ocean, with no one to turn to. I will be like their guiding light outside into
the real world. Where people have personalities, because personalities bring
the roller coasters of life.
If they stop to
listen to music and sit in the tree with me, perhaps they will understand why I
love to look at the mountains. To wonder about the world beyond our own and
choose where your feet take you.
Your feet are
never wrong because they know where you want to go in your heart. They know
your deepest desires about the choices you wish to take but choose not to
listen to. Perhaps there is someone here who will sit with me and listen to his
or her feet, because the feet know the road not taken.
Love,
Lorraine
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