Wednesday, 11 November 2009

Different Flavours.

It's 5.30am and I don't feel tired at all. Gahh.

This is a short story written for my Creative Writing class in school. I'm very irritated at all the widows and orphans in the paragraphs but I'm too lazy to edit.

Different Flavours.

My name is Luke Skywalker Tan. Yes, Skywalker like the Jedi in Star Wars. You can stop laughing now, and no, my father is not named Anakin or Darth Vader thank you very much. You see, I’m the guy who grew up having Star Wars freaks for parents, and unfortunately they thought, and still think, that it would be a fantastic, wonderful idea if their son was named after a Jedi. I think they never really considered what it would be like to grow up called Luke Skywalker, the countless comments about my ability to use the ‘force’, or the snide remarks about my name. I guess that’s why I keep to myself mostly, although I have a few friends who are considerably more geeky than me, yet they aren’t the ones with Jedi names, go figure.

I do have one secret that no one, not even my closest friend, knows about, and that’s my secret obsession with J.R.R. Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that I hate Star Wars (although I have good reasons to), it’s that I prefer the Middle Earth to the Galaxies far away, the way some of you might prefer vanilla ice cream over chocolate. You still love ice cream in general, just a different flavour. I cannot tell anyone about this though; because my friends would eventually tell my parents and my parents would freak out and disown me. Such is the life of a son with Star Wars fanatics for parents. I can however, write about it, which is exactly what I’m doing now.

I remember the first time I came into contact with Tolkien’s literacy masterpiece. It was a bright and sunny Saturday, but inside I was feeling miserable and bored as I was out with my parents hunting for Star Wars books again. Don’t get me wrong, books are interesting and a great way to improve your English and all that, but after checking out the 15th bookstore for the hundredth time to see if they have the latest Star Wars graphic novels, a part of you seems to die inside. I started wandering over to the fantasy section, which is not very far from the science fiction, and picked up the Lord of The Rings.

Man, from then on I was hooked. I mean, how can you not find hobbits and elves and epic battles between the forces of Mordor and the Rohirrim at least vaguely interesting? Although I got questioning stares from my mother that day, I couldn’t stop thinking about the first chapter all the way home. I’m sick and tired of this though, of pretending and trying to live life as though Star Wars is the only world I live for, that Ewoks and Jedis are fascinating to me. In a way, I even regret flicking through Lord of The Rings that day, since it opened me up to a brand new world more enthralling than Star Wars.

Reading back through what I have written, I think that maybe I should tell my parents the truth. Yes that’s what I’ll do. They are my parents after all and they did give birth to me. What have I really been afraid of all this while? Not that my parents will disown me, but that my parents might love a series of movies more than me. What do I have to be afraid of? I’m confident they will accept me for who I am, you see such things happening all the time on television.

After all, we all love ice cream; it’s just that we prefer different flavours.

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