June 6th - A Short Story

I logged on to Facebook. I was kind of hoping that Sally would have messaged me back, but she hadn't. Although she did write on Paul's wall so she had been online. Aggh, I'm so depressed. Why won't she message me back? Should I write on her wall? Poke her?. Not only that, but my boss keeps giving me shit because I keep showing up late. Fucking idiot, doesn't he know I've got enough problems? I logged back on to Facebook, Sally has deleted me. OMG. How could she block me?.

He was in the middle of the sea. He was probably freezing cold, he was probably scared - but he didn't really notice because he was so focused on the task ahead. And what was ahead, he didn't really know. He wanted to look into the eyes of the men beside him but he couldn't, because he was in the darkness of night. The horrors that were only hours away were too big to think about. He took comfort in knowing that his best friend Timmy was on the same boat as him.

I messaged Jane and asked her why Sally deleted me. I didn't understand. I am also looking for new jobs but it's so hard with the recession on. I took comfort in my Xbox 360. But then midway through a game it FROZE! This is why I don't let my Brother play my Xbox. Obviously he's broken it somehow. I just about managed to stop myself going insane and throwing the console out of the window. Fuck it, I just need comfort food. I made myself a sandwich. Actually I didn't - because there was no chicken left in the fridge. How can there be no chicken left in the Fridge? I tried phoning my brother to find out if he'd stolen my chicken but I couldn't get a reception on my phone. My phone is crap, I need a new phone.

He couldn't help but notice the eerie silence around him. The only noises were the occasional cough, or some guy at the back being sick. Everybody felt sick. Most wouldn't admit it. The night was nearly over and the beaches were ever closer. He instinctively knew that what was to come was going to be a lot different to everything he had experienced before. He thought briefly about Mary. He wondered what she was doing right now. He hoped she was sleeping.

I did a google image search for Scarlet Johannson. Life was suddenly great again and all my stresses were gone. After about fifty pictures of her I moved on to Meagan Good. Maybe life wasn't such a drag after all. My friend Charlie came round and we ordered a pizza. Charlie's my mate but to be honest, he annoys me. For example, he blatantly always tries it on with Sally, right in front of me. And he always belittles the things I say. AND, the dude owes me £50 from like three months ago. I wanna smash his face in. I can't deal with a friend owing me money and hitting on my girl.

He didn't quite get time to have a thought pass through his head, because the bullet flew right into his helmet before he even saw the enemy. Luckily, his helmet managed to hold out. Little Bryan wasn't as lucky, it sliced right through his shoulder and took him down. Within seconds, they were all in the water, fighting to get to dry land. Not that dry land was any better-- the onslaught of German fire was non-stop. He saw a small dip in the sand that could be used as cover. He headed for it but another soldier got there first. Good job the other soldier got there first because his arm got blown off just as he touched the ground.

I was meant to go to JJ's party tonight but instead thought I'd stay at home. I logged onto facebook and looked at some pictures. Pictures of Sally that her friends had tagged. I had reached the point of official devastation. Maybe I should just kill myself. Nah, I think I'll just throw on a DVD and drown my sorrows.

He could almost burst due to the sheer pressure in his head. Everything was happening at once. The water behind him was a sickening red, and the beach before him was a sea of men falling. It was too many things to take in at once - the smells and sights were indescribable. He would have taken more time to be dazzled by all this but there were still Germans shooting at him. Suddenly, a soldier dived on top of him-- they both fell to the ground. "What was that?" he asked. The bald comrade who wasn't wearing a helmet said "Keep moving, you nearly got your head blown off". Before he could say thanks the bald guy was already saving another life. As for our hero, he never saw the bald guy again. He never saw Timmy again either, but he didn't have time to think about that.

I think the world is falling apart. Seriously. Apparently, they think that maybe too much coffee can now cause mental issues. So I'm fucked! And I've just found out they're thinking of making a new Back To The Future movie, why Lord, WHY? Nothing makes sense anymore. Even Ronaldo is thinking of signing for Real Madrid!. I left Sally a voicemail. I know I shouldn't, but I did.

His uniform was ripped on one side from shrapnel and the other side was covered in blood. Although it looked brown. He thought blood was meant to look red. They were shooting at him again. Everyone was exploding. One guy was on fire, he didn't know how that happened. It was at this point he realised he needed to kill some Germans. He nervously hovered behind some tall soldier he'd never seen before and another guy who might be Mikey J but he can't be sure because his face was half blown off.

I logged off of Facebook and I ignored JJ's missed calls. My life was becoming more than stressful, I'm too old to be dealing with this shit lol.

He turned to look at the boy who was giving him instructions. He really was a boy, he looked 14. The boy didn't get to finish giving instructions because his head got blown off. All around there were boys crying, boys screaming, boys dying. But more common than that, were boys coming together. Boys focused. Boys advancing on an enemy that had to be stopped. He suddenly felt a jolt of confidence, a reminder of his purpose. It was all he needed. He wasn't going to go down without a fight. He pointed his gun at the tower above and took aim.

I wrote this story on June 5th 2009, and posted it on June 6th (D-Day Anniversary) 2009. This is a RE-POST. I'm currently away and will be back at the weekend! Come back tomorrow for the final GUEST WRITER! (she's awesome!)

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Privilege - Stop moaning and accept your privileges.

I have an idea, let's waste all our energy moaning that "The only reason that dude makes movies is because his Brother's friends Aunt knows Spielberg." You could be right, I'm not sure. But even if you are - you're spending your days moaning and crying, and the dude is out making movies. So pretty soon, you realize that moaning about these things is entirely pointless.

And the important thing is there's nothing wrong with privilege. Say I am Spielberg's very own son, and I desperately want to make films. Is it wrong for me to say "Hey Dad, could I borrow a camera and Tom Hanks and go shoot something?" Should I feel guilty about that? When you were young, and your Dad said, "Let's go to the park.." did you say "Dad, please don't drive me, I'd rather walk there with the homeless guys..." of course you didn't.

So, yeah- don't be a moany little bitch when it comes to "everyone in the industry knows someone other than me." YOU HAVE PRIVILEGES TOO. If you live in a democracy, you have a privilege that thousands of filmmakers don't. If you have a job, or you have a white skin, or you have a family, or you have a camera; whatever it is, you have privileges too. So shut up, and get on with it.

And the important thing is that you should stand up for your privileges. When someone says, "Lucy, it's really great that you got that role. Your Dad knows the Producer doesn't he?" - you can respond in one of two ways---

1. "Yeah, um - my Dad is kinda friends with that Bruckheimer guy. But not really, I mean - like, I still auditioned, he didn't.. y'know, I mean.. like..."

OR, you can say.

2. "Yeah, my Dad is best friends with Jerry Bruckheimer. He helped me get the role, I really appreciate that - I'm lucky."

With response one, the person asking you makes you feel really inadequate and stupid. With answer two, there's no comeback. "Oh, er.. so you do know Jerry. Cool. Yeah."

And then life is SO MUCH EASIER.

Just to clarify, I don't know any big producers. But I can remember when I began making films and I was flitting between many jobs and not getting paid too much. And certain people would say "You're so lucky you get to follow your dreams, that your parents support you.."

And I used to flip out and get really offended. It was like "how dare you say I'm lucky, I work really hard! I work at my films every day!" This was, of course, completely true - but at the same time, I was ignoring the fact I do have this WONDERFUL privilege, I have parents that support me and believe in me. So I started agreeing with people. "Yeah, my parents are amazing. I'm very lucky. I love my life." And then, again, there's no comeback.

Often these people have the same privileges too. And you wanna dive in and say "Hold on, you're 42 and live with your parents.. and... and..." But then, there's really no need to justify yourself. They'll say "yeah but I have car payments to make, and don't forget, I have a girlfriend." Of course, the thing to realize is that the car was a choice, and the girlfriend was a choice. Instead, you made the choice to pay a crew to shoot your movie, but they don't see it like that.

But it doesn't matter -- you don't need to justify yourself. Do yourself a giant favour and ACCEPT YOUR PRIVILEGES. It's something we NEVER DO, but when you do it - you are ACCEPTING A HUGE PART OF YOUR LIFE that you often don't identify with.

YES, I have a wonderful family!

YES, I have a camera!

YES, I had dinner today!

YES, I am alive at this time in the world's history!

YES, I have freedom of movement!

YES, My legs both work!

YES, My Uncle is George Lucas!*

It'd be really great if we could all share our privileges in the comments... and share a bit about why we're lucky and how they help us with our careers.

*My Uncle Is Not George Lucas.

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