Nobody likes to be told the truth

My last three posts have been a little different than the others, and I've made it a point to be that way. But then, in the process of creating them, one thing struck me, and probably you too. I wanted to tell and show you something, but actually I rather tried to overturn what I wanted to show and tell you. Something like that happened. And I didn't want it to be like that. I wanted to write a travel post with mystical elements that would be interesting and insightful. But maybe that didn't happen. Why? I'm not generally a spoilsport, or I haven't always been, or at least I think so. Despite the current situation in which I find myself and because of which I often have negative, even hateful statements about life in the country.

But now I remember a story from a few years ago. And I think that I have always rather tried to look at things from another, different from the accepted side, trying to make them more interesting in this way. Or more interesting in my way. And one more thing - I try to look at things from different sides, not just the one that is presented to everyone. And then, it's always refracted through my feelings and my experience, of course.

And now I will tell you an unusual story, in which for the first and only time my different view was recognized and appreciated... somewhat. And perhaps at the most inappropriate time and under the most inappropriate circumstances.

I have quite a bit of writing besides what I write here, but as I recently replied to a blogger in a comment, I've never thought of a "job" related to writing, I don't think I'm good enough at it, ie. there are many others, hundreds, thousands, millions of people who are better, even in my own country. Well, ok, thousands in my own country, probably. But I have one thing published, and I think it's the most inappropriate thing to publish, but that's what happened. 🤷‍♀️

Years ago, I was contacted on FB by our class teacher from high school. She was looking for stories or any pieces written about the school to supplement the yearbook like they did every year. Every year, at the end of the school year there is a celebration with a play and all kinds of stage performances, as well as a yearbook. I had never thought of writing anything for this yearbook when I was a student. Especially since there was no way I would be selected for publication. And especially because I have already told you what my attitude is to this school.

The graduates of it meet, as I told you, if not every year, then certainly every five years, to fall one evening into raptures about how great they are, having graduated from this particular school, on the one hand, on the other - what an incredibly cool five years of their lives these were, the coolest.

I have given you my opinion on why five years of living in misery cannot make you a great man. On the other hand, older people who are past their school years are to me immature and should finally grow up. But they never do, because this kind of indoctrination that they've been subjected to, knowingly or not, assures them that these are the greatest years of their lives, and they make them great people and all that nonsense.

So one day I sat down and wrote a story about this school, from my point of view. I told about the death that happened there every year. You do realize that nobody ever talked about it. It is a taboo subject. It is something that everyone brushes aside, sweeps under the carpet, something that should not be known about.
In the five years, according to my calculations, at least 5 people died. There were 3 suicides and two deaths in transport accidents. But there was one year where I couldn't remember exactly who died, so it was actually more than 5 deaths. And the narrative revolved around who died in that one year. And not only that. There was everything that bothered me then, events and people, conditions and circumstances. Everything was written. It was called The School of Death.

At this point it's getting really funny for me, even though it's about real and sad events really, I mean the death of these students. At the same time, imagine the situation. I told my teacher, absolutely jokingly, that I had material about the school, but it could never be published because of its controversial content. But she insisted, so I told her what the contents were. She kept insisting. And when I sent it to her, she said: great, we're publishing it. 😂

I should say that she is actually a literature teacher. And a great and very brave woman indeed.
Her decision then was tantamount to a revolution. "Your experience is relevant", she said, "it is not normal to write only positive things."
I imagine how the rest of the committee took that. It may not be normal, but it has not happened so far - for someone to write something real about this institution surrounded by so much grief, not just pompous ego and boasting.
I also don't know how the readers perceived it. I wasn't there then. I won't be there in the future too.

Of course I had to change something. I changed the title, there was no way not to do it. 😁 I also changed the ending. In fact, as I recall, my literature teacher added something herself at the end. Perhaps that was the price of publishing this controversial thing.
Despite what was written in the main part, it should have ended with some positive message. And I wrote something made up, which my teacher had embellished.
And this is it.
My literary debut. 😄

Nobody likes to be told the truth. And no one likes to be reasoned about any issues. No one expects this.
Life is so much more beautiful and easy when this is not done.
So maybe in the future, if I'm going to continue writing, I'll have to focus on something more digestible and light. Love stories, for example.🤣

Thank you for your time! Copyright:	@soulsdetour
	Soul's Detour is a project started by me years ago when I had a blog about historical and not so popular tourist destinations in Eastern Belgium, West Germany and Luxembourg. Nowadays, this blog no longer exists, but I'm still here - passionate about architecture, art and mysteries and eager to share my discoveries and point of view with you.

Personally, I am a sensitive soul with a strong sense of justice.
Traveling and photography are my greatest passions.
Sounds trivial to you?
No, it's not trivial. Because I still love to travel to not so famous destinations.🗺️
Of course, the current situation does not allow me to do this, but I still find a way to satisfy my hunger for knowledge, new places, beauty and art.
Sometimes you can find the most amazing things even in the backyard of your house.😊🧐🧭|