Mockumentary

I woke up only to see a sea of bodies surrounding me, haggard and sickly. More people came in each day. It has been many days and nights. I have lost count. We had not eaten or drunk anything in a couple of days. My parched throat, begged for hydration. My stomach groaned louder.

My days were filled with interrogations, work and torture. At the crack of dawn, we were woken by spritz of water which all of us gladly open our  mouths to, in hopes to satisfy our parched throats. We lined up to get morsels of food which were handed out sometimes, before we were forced to do labour. This is where everyone rushed to be in front. In fact, the only time.

The fear made us rush in a hushed manner. The morsels of food were limited. Once the food on the truck was all handed out, there was no more until the next time. Maybe in two days or if we were lucky, one.

In the evenings when everyone was allowed to have some rest. In actual fact, it was a long waiting line, to pain, torture and unspeakable horrors. I was always careful where to pick a spot. In the evenings, I would pick a spot which was 3/4 closer to the front, the time where the prisoners would all huddle as far away as they could. I found that by being slightly closer to the front, I could worm my way through in the morning to get food.

Everyone was terrified of the horrors that happened in the buildings. The whole camp was split into two, by a huge black wall. The people who entered the left, usually dwarfs, twins and children hardly ever came back out. Those who did were sickly and in pain. I was glad my twin was not caught along with me.

Those who entered the right, suffered pain beyond belief. The gas chambers. Outside these walls, none of these horrors seemed remotely possible. The moment you entered, screams of pain and insanity could be heard.

I had only entered the room thrice since I the day I was caught, when I stood too near to the front. All I could remember when I was behind those walls, was willing for someone or even something to take my life right there and then. The moment you inhaled the gas, it was as if, someone had set fire to your lungs. I usually dropped to the ashen floor, pretending to feel faint. It was below that there was the least gas. Regardless, it still hurt.

Some of the weaker prisoners, dropped dead and their bodies never left the building.

I often looked over to the black wall. Other prisoners often whispered of it as a haven. The black wall was supposed to free us from all this torture and suffering. Sixty people were released there each day. Everyone hoped they would be chosen.

During the day, we did labour under the hot sun. None of us, stopping to rest no matter how exhausted we were. The fear kept us working. Anyone who stopped for a moment and was caught, was beaten to death instantly.

All I hoped for, was an escape.

This evening, I was one of those sixty people. My heart started pounding. Could it be that I had earned my freedom? I was shoved onto the truck to be transported over to the wall. The other prisoners on board were praising the lord. We arrived at the black wall and were ordered to line up along it. My legs trembled as I took each step. It was too good to be true, they were going to let us free.

I was one of the last in line but I could see beyond the gate. It was open. It was the first I've seen a fenceless horizon in many weeks.

Then, we were ordered to face the wall. My heart sank to my stomach. Something was wrong. I turned to faced the wall. It was stained brown over the words Auschwitz written in huge block letters across the wall. One of the higher ranked Nazi's gave an order to open fire. The sound of gunshot could be heard. It was approaching me. My knees buckled and i fell to the ground, lifeless. I could not move. Fear had taken over me. So this was it, sixty people killed each day only to have more people brought in.

I felt the warm splash of liquid over my tattered clothes. It smelt of rust, blood. Then, the soldiers began heaving the bodies onto a truck. I was certain they were going to discover that I was still alive and send me back, or worse, put a bullet through my head. Still, I lost all bodily functions. I could not move.

A soldier dragged my motionless body by my feet. I could feel my head bump against the rocky gravel. Suddenly, I was flung in the air. I landed on something prickly. It took me a while to realise, they were bodies, dead bodies.

The truck drove of with me in it. My eyes fluttered open. The truck had left the wall. It was heading away, presumably to dispose of the dead bodies. The moment the truck stopped, I shut my eyes, praying not to be discovered. I was chucked along with the other fifty-nine dead bodies into a small trench. Or you could say, a trench that was nearly overflowing with rotting bodies.

I laid there, waiting for the soldiers to leave. When the sound of the truck faded. Slowly opening my eyes, I saw it was turning to dusk. I crawl out of the trench over the bodies, feeling sick in the stomach.
I started running for my life, in fear the soldiers would return.

I fled through the bushes instead of the open road. I rather have a slow journey then risk being exposed and caught. I ran as far as I could, and walked when I was tired. When I felt that I was far enough, I found shelter under a bush. It started raining. I open my mouth to drink. I felt the drops hit my face, almost painful.

It was nothing compared to the pain I had been through. The dirt washed off my body. It was cold but eventually I fell asleep.

I woke at dawn and started on my journey. I did not know where I was headed to, or what my plan was, but I was determined to survive. I looked less like a prisoner, now that the rain had washed the dirt away but I was still scrawny sickly, in tattered clothes. I survived off wild berries and kept heading in one direction.

In a few days, I reached a small town. I broke into a small house right by the edge of town and stole some clothes and food. I had to look more like a villager than a prisoner. I knew how to speak German, so I was safe.

My new life was about to unfold in front of me. I made myself believe I was German born, that was the only way I was going to survive, by being one of them.

The Magic Box

"Turn on the magic box, please" my grandmother used to say to me in mandarin. I found it funny when I was a child. Today,  I am a mass communication student, learning about the media and its escalated development over the years. It is hard to believe that television was not a part of my grandparents childhood. What did they do to entertain themselves?

Now, come to think of it, it is fascinating how humans have discovered an invisible transmission medium that could transmit pictures and sound. How amazing is it that someone could discover something that was invisible.

I think people in the past were much more curious about technology compared to people now. The children born in the 20th century grew up with developing technology surrounding them.

Today, if one were to ignore all the developing technologies around them, they would definitely lose out. Just like how my grandmother calls the television a magic box.

The older generation does not see the relevance in technology. Personally, they are ignorant towards it. They do not believe that something so amazing could be real. They think it's expensive and a waste of money.

To the younger generations, we are active gadget users who depend a lot on them to let us know things and help us achieve certain things.

The television for example. It could be used for entertainment or to get info through the news. Nowadays, the television feature is being incorporated into our computers. We are able stream movies or some TV shows live.

It is a wonder, what technology will be like in the next few decades.

Dream Cloud

We watched half of the Czech dream documentary for our Friday lecture. It was about two film study students who scammed thousands of Czechs into believing that there was a new supermarket named "Czech Dream". It portrayed the influence of advertising on society. The two Czech students had a crazy idea but yet they managed to pull it off.

Well, enough said about that.

Today, it is going to be about my dream. It is not impossible to achieve, just difficult. I would love everything I own to be customized. I like things that are different and I settle for uniqueness. I dislike how clothes, bags etc. are all made in mass production. There are billions of items that look the same way, boring.

I love everything about customization. Regardless of all the customizing options we have today, the choices offered are still limited. I would love to own a place that customizes whatever you want. It would be so cool. Imagine having something that only you, out of seven billion people, own. It would be so special and unique, one of a kind.

Stnading out of the crowd.

After the movie, our lecturer shared his very own crazy idea. He wanted to build a women-friendly hardware store. That got my attention because although I love building my own things, I would not be attracted to a hardware store. I remember walking into a hardware store some weeks back to get some tools to fix the doorknob of my room, I received some weird stares from the employees as well as customers in the shop. I guess it was usual seeing a girl in heels, browsing for tools. Although I love building things, it took me a while before I could find the tools I needed.

Personally, from a woman's point of view. Hardware shops to women(the majority of them) are like boutiques to most men. We don't understand the things in there. A women won't be able to tell the difference between a flat-head screw from a pan-head one, just like men won't be able to tell the difference between a halter neck top from a tank top.

Women would need a lot of assistance in a hardware store. A women-friendly hardware store would definitely need workers who are able to give advice on hardware tools and tips. Guys, imagine being in a jewellery shop and not having a single clue about what to get for your girlfriend for your anniversary. That is how clueless women are in hardware shops. After all, jewellery and tools share something in-common, they are both kept by owners for a very long time. You would want to get something of quality.

 Quirky ideas could make the shop more women-friendly too. Such as naming wood putty (girls: used for filing up holes in wood) wood concealer(guys: a form of make-up used to cover blemishes). That way, women would be able to make some sense of hardware items.

Concealer

Wood Putty

Books

In conjunction to my lecture, this post is going to be all about books.

Children today are so absorbed in the developing technologies (iPads, iPhones, Tabs etc.) that they forget the simple, traditional fun. Books.

Although books can now be found in electronic form, nothing beats the old, paper-based books. Personally, I think the feeling of each page as you flip them, makes you feel connected to the story. It is much easier to read from a print book because you can see the whole page while reading it, unlike the e-book where you are required to scroll up and down. More often than not, one would lose track of the story  whilst doing so.

A research study found that children that read print books recalled more narrative details of the story compared to those who read the story from  an e-book reader. The print books were proven better for 'literacy-building co-reading' whereas e-books effectively engaged children and prompted physical reaction.

Books give us a gist of the generations of the past. They preserve the culture of generations within its pages. From the way the author writes the book, you are able to know more about the culture during that period of time. 

A good book could get you so absorbed with its story that you forget the world around you. Your mind is imagining what the author is describing vividly. It is amazing how we can imagine what we read.

For example:
I walked through the cold, dark woods looking for shelter. The sound of dried leaves crunching beneath my sore feet with each step I took. A branch snapped just four feet north. My stomach clenched up, my heart started pacing, what creature of the forest was I going to face now?

I'm sure someone could picture in their mind, the mystery and suspense.

However, the the amount of people reading has proven to be less compared to the past. This is due to the amount of leisure activities made available over the decades. It is feared that in the future, books might not be read anymore.

Just a little video clip for a laugh, imagine the future when no one reads print books anymore...

Cheers.
xx