I was looking through some of my old writing earlier and I came across something that caught me by surprise.
When I wrote my dissertation last year I felt like I was fighting a never-ending uphill battle. By the time I submitted it I didn’t even know the story that I was writing. It was foreign to me – it wasn’t mine.
I don’t pretend that none of the blame rests on my shoulders.
I went into third year with a basic idea but very little understanding of how it would work. Unfortunately, I struggled for months and months to really find that understanding, to get a grip of my story and the world it was set in, and that ultimately proved to be my downfall.
I’d lost the heart of the story. But I think I’ve just found it again.
I’d forgotten that several months before I started working on my dissertation that I’d written a little piece that set-up part of the backstory and gave a sense of the story’s tone and atmosphere. It was just a little something to get me started, and I’m pretty sure I didn’t finish it, but when I came across it earlier it reminded me of why I wanted to write this idea in the first place.
I’m going to post it below so that you guys can see it and maybe tell me what you think.
I want to go back to this story one day, once I’ve had enough time away from it to come back with a renewed love for the idea, as well as a fresh perspective from which to write it. Maybe this little introduction can help me…
Silence. Like nothing’s out of the ordinary. The sun continues to rise and fall with every new day, and people still go to work and earn money and live. They still believe in their freedom.
Obviously you don’t, not if you’re reading this. The fact you’ve even found this says as much…
I miss it, that perfect world I never knew. The soft shine of moonlight breaking over the peaks, the landscape cast in darkness – a delicate illumination. Blurs of colour that got caught in the eye, the picture a charcoal painting of the sweeping valleys and the steady mountain ranges. It was undisturbed, like the clear reflection on the surface of a lake, only the crystal shine. The normality of it all was unrivalled, yet the beauty long gone.
The whole concept is void now, has been for years, but that was understood. The world is different now. We have changed.
There was nothing we could have done. They had the nerve to tell us that. The situation was inevitable. All that was certain was our ability to resolve the problem when it arose.
We couldn’t possibly speak out, tell them they were wrong. There was so much we could do to stop this from happening, they just didn’t want to compromise. Isn’t that all it ever comes down to?
It’s been fifty years now, since they say it all started. There had been warnings long before, different circumstances leading to our own destruction. I’ve heard all the talk about the global warming, all the stories of the men who cried wolf, and those with their ‘evidence’ against its existence. No-one really remembers when that all died out. One big crisis over another and it all gets forgotten. Still, maybe if that’s what had caused all this people might have listened.
They might have tried to change things.
Now we’re just stuck. A land under quarantine. Refugees taking up residence across the world, displaced, but not unhappy. It’s almost like the world has moved on, accepted its fate, and remained blind to what’s been happening behind closed doors. Not that anyone really knows what’s going on. Some would say you have to hand it to the government, they’ve done well to make the world so oblivious. It’s got to come out at some point though.
I assure it.