My life revolves around physical objects. Judgements are made on appearance, but based on clothes and accessories rather than facial features or body shape. Self worth and confidence stems from the value of what I have, and is expressed through material possessions. Emotions are in sync with these possessions, a new iphone determining whether I’m happy and a broken watch deciding I’m sad. Without objects in my life, I’m lost.
The start of any given day greets me with one of my favourite objects; my bed. During the night we worked together to create a nest for myself, assisted by a duvet and some pillows, cocooned against the rest of the world. The warm embrace my bed offers me is simple yet very much appreciated. I love the cosiness of the situation and passionately hate the moment I have to leave its comfort, to say goodbye. No matter how late I’m running, I carefully make my bed bed, aligning up my pillows with the childhood baby blanket resting on top. It’s my way of showing gratitude to my bed, saying thanks for all the times its spent with me.
The next object of the day that makes a significant impact on me is a much hated one, the school bell. It makes me run in the mornings, taunting me with a late mark as I sprint through the school doors. It’s rude as well, constantly interrupting conversations. Despite living in a place of education it has yet to learn social etiquette or patience. Our relationship is a love-hate one, just without the love. The bell disregards everything I happen to be doing, telling me to drop everything and switch to something else. I try my best to treat it as it treats me, ignoring it just as it ignores my opinion but this rarely ends in my favour. Apparently disregarding the bell in not deemed an acceptable excuse for being late to class. That painfully shrill noise the bell emits defines where I have to be, what I have to do and for now long I can do it. It defines my life.
The transition from my school uniform to my own individual clothes is the next material landmark of the day. I get to trade the itchy woollen jumper that smells like wet dog if I get caught in the rain, for something of my own choosing. I always opt for comfort clothes, either “fat man pants” , a pair of oversized tracksuit bottoms, or a a “onesie”, novelty one pieced pyjamas that have become common in recent years. The horribly impractical school skirt gets left on the floor as I caress my favourite clothes. My zebra print onesie welcomes me with open arms, The milkman has finally stopped being surprised when I open the door with an unnecessary tail swinging gaily behind me. True, I might look a little abstract but my feet never get cold.
My final stop of the day is in tune with your stereotypical teenager. My nightly routine comes to a close by listening to my beloved ipod. The services it can provide are endless, acting as a calculator or possibly an alarm clock but its moment of glory is playing music, its what it was born to do. It acts as a device to quiet down the babble of noise in my head, to allow me to unwind and simply enjoy myself. I set it playing on the same artist every night, snuggle back into the bed I was cruelly separated from that morning and let the day fade away.
The next morning, the cycle starts itself again. The objects around me condition a routine. The monotony of it all is broken when a new object of contempt or an object of desire is thrown into the mix. Without the objects of modern life, valued or not, I would be lost. They define the world around me.
I was looking back over my “mock” exam script as a poor attempt to prepare myself for my upcoming exams and the above is what I wrote for the composing section. The task was to write a personal response to “an object of contempt, and object of desire” as the theme of the paper was relics. It was written under exam conditions, including the quiet yet noisy exam hall, time management, and not forgetting hand craps. Obviously it isn’t perfect, but would love feedback in terms of how I can improve, thanks for reading!