Creative Projects: Pretend you are someone in one of the plays + write a few journal entries revealing your understanding of at least one literacy element: character. Friday, December 21st 1958 Dear diary, Today, I filled my stomach with bananas once again. Bananas for me aren't just typical bananas, they are a representation of my life; peeling back the layers of a banana is like peeling back the layers of my life. Today, I chose to shower me with gifts, light colourful candles and stick them on some oversized pastry I bought at the local supermarket. Yes, it is my birthday; I've been alive for 69 years. I'm currently tucked away in my den, preparing myself to make an annual review of the past year recording the brightest or dullest moments of the previous year.

For me these tapes represent a spoken diary, they are my inspiration. I like to use these recordings because they are an audio proof that I am indeed alive. They are literal representations of what I used to be, and what I've become. In every tape, I try to list accomplishments. I try to give meaning to my existence.

As I began recording my entry, I paused and realized I simply had nothing to say. I've chosen to review various tapes of myself that I've collected for memories in hopes of finding inspiration. I came across a favourite of mine: my 39th birthday. I still had my hair then. I still had a lot to loose. I watched my hysterical self-weeping into the tape player, admitting defeat over some woman at the punt.

I listened to these tapes in the hopes of remembering forgotten memories, but the truth is that I've re-enacted that moment in my head countless times since. I kept replaying the tape as we might reply such a moment in our minds. Over the years, my voice is the only thing that changed. Sitting alone in my dusty den on my 69th birthday, it dawned on me that I have neve loved or been loved in my pitiful life. The desire of companionship is what I really need, that's why I know I want all the years back whose records I've been listening to. At each stage I see the fool that I was.

"It was hopeless and no good going on (p. 195) then I end up with my "face in her breast" (p. 196). I disagree with what I did, which was giving up on love so fast. I wasn't able to control her, that's why I left her. One of my biggest mistakes in life is that I focused too much on the past and never looked at my current situation, which explains why I'm still alone.