To the girl sat at the back. @ZSlatter
If I put the start of all my unpublished scabs together I would sound like a mad woman, perhaps fluent in gibberish and utter bullshit. In fact, I could even sound somewhat intelligent as I illustrate fancy words which do not correlate towards the sentence what so ever. However, the pause effect I have created using the exquisite semicolon distracts you from the words as you reflect on what gibberish you have just read and I have just quite frankly written.
So, I will now start a new paragraph, as for I doubt I can follow that up with something witty and somewhat charming to cover up what could definitely be nonsense. Therefore the one thing that springs to my mind like a cow being shot out of a catapult is that writing seems to have been the forefront of learning during the previous weeks. Writing is something I enjoy, however, not something I’m partially fantastic at. Especially as these scabs feel like you are ripping out pages in your diary and parading them through central London, so you have to really think about the content you want to be displayed. School teaches you to use nouns, adverbs and fancy words to illuminate your sentences and execute them perfectly with the correct punctuation and spelling. Whereas I’ve realized that purely no one gives a shit, as long as you speak like a fucking human being and not a computer generated posh twat. Hence the core of any meaty words is actually being able to quite frankly bloody understand them. Something I can’t always manage to do.
I’m not your average writer. At 17 I once spelled used with a Y and always spell because wrong, yet I’m still not classed as a dyslexic. In fact, a ray of red squiggly lines currently makes a lovely sequential pattern over this entire document accompanied by striking shades of blue which all aesthetically remind me how crap I am at spelling. But as I type away I’m trying to define what it is I want to say. Scabs are voices. They are the opportunity for my voice to be heard instead of sitting silently in the back sinking into a sofa. I understand I’m not the most confident speaker. I have ideas, lots of them I think, but never the courage to reach out my arm and say them. Instead ill always let someone else do the job and I’ll nod quietly in agreement to their contribution. Bad. I know, yet my head tells me to stay quiet. Therefore Scabs are important for me and all the ‘quieter’ people in the world, to say what the want to scream with no fear of embarrassment or public humiliation if your face begins to go red.
Adeline’s most recent SCAB inspired me towards this as her words convey passion and power to a subject so topical. And although she’s confident, she still uses this as just another use of speech. I have topics I want to write about, and topics I want to say. Therefore I shall use this to preach them and one day build the bloody courage to get up and scream them, as it’s easier for a shit speller to talk rather than write.