Scarecrow

I myself try to be my own student, testing my own technique. And what I feel like was…

Staring at the screen for a while, I’m just down to the mouth as finding a plot for the story of which title is “Scarecrow” is way too challenging. Am I too strict and demanding towards my ‘beloved’ English learners since I have millions of ideas to “torture” them with words? The lesson content, the target, and the requirement for their paper seem to be thought-provoking, yet finally, when I set some concrete goals for myself, I feel the same way they do.

Maybe after a few minutes of beating my brains out, not to come up with any ideas for the story but just to blame myself, I’ve got some notions of what to write about.

Here’s what is on my mind right now:

“In Vietnamese culture, there is a word that describes someone who is not as powerful as he or she looks. This word is “paper tiger”. And today, I’ve found a new word in English with a little similarity in meaning: Scarecrow. Basically, in Vietnamese, we do have “scarecrow”, yet it is not totally alike “paper tiger”. OMG, now I’ve realized that I’m on the wrong track. So let me begin again.”

Here the story begins: (I actually came up with the idea of this narrative while writing the above lines hahaaaaa)

S C A R E C R O W

Alright, first of all, I must tell you that I’m a scarecrow.

Do you know what the hell is a scarecrow? If you don’t, let me explain this word to you. This is also a way to clarify what I am used for. To be honest, being a scarecrow means you are nothing but something people make to scare the crow, trying to have them get away from the crops. And the most common image of a scarecrow is a figure looking like a person wearing old rags. But you know, one man’s trash is another man’s treasure. For the farmers, our outfits are just garbage that they want to get rid of but still want to do something useful with. For scarecrows like us, the torn clothes are sumptuous.

Even though I’m a scarecrow, I’m scared of everything.

I’m scared of my own image. Looking at my peers, I have my own thought of how I look like in my mind without having a photo of myself. I’m nowhere near appearing adorable. It’s obvious because I was made just to frighten the birds away. That’s why I’m this ugly.

I’m so scared of the darkness. No matter how many friends I’ve got on this giant paddy field, it’s so tortuous when we have to stand alone, separated from each other at a great distance in the dark. Just imagine you are, a human being, left abandoned with nothing around but a black void. What do you think? Interesting, huh?

I’m also scared of the weather. The more appalling the weather is, the quicker I diminish. You know what? Farmers created us using odds and ends like wooden pieces, rags, and straws, so our average lifespan is quite short. Those materials can’t endure dismal weather conditions, what a pity! Observing my “seniors” being coldly thrown away after torrential rain, I know that my fate has been decided.

And my last fear is so tricky to identify. Is it human being or getting thrown out? I’m not sure. Technically, it is humans that bring us to life. Thanks to those human beings, my companions and I have the chance to exist in this world. But they are also the ones who make me suffer. All these frights. I’m afraid of everything, yet I never want to be treated like rubbish.

Anyway, I at least have benefited this world. To some extent.

Life goes on, full of dilemmas.” (411 words/30 minutes)

Still, I have no idea whether I’m creative or not.

I never feel I’m good enough.

Below is my illustration for this post. It took me about 20′ just to get everything done.