Diaries of a Wristwatch.
Take a breath, look around, and hear the sounds of the city. The harsh and busy noise pollution from the cars, trucks and public transport, taking all kinds of people to there jobs, to their homes or even to their children. The sound of spoilt children crying over spilt milk. The look of the orchid trees lining the paths, looking closely there is always one that is just that bit taller than the rest, the one striving to be different. The smell of the crisp afternoon air, and the melted ice cream running by your feet, you can almost picture the poor child who for only a second lost something they had tried and pestered so long for. But just as things are so simple, the children only pick themselves up to try harder again. Just like the park I lay in I have also become abandoned, I was once loved, used and appreciated but now, I rust hidden beneath the sand until someone new comes to claim me.
My story begins in a small sweatshop in Asia, where I was wrapped in protective plastic and placed into a brown box with gold writing on the top, along with other brother and sister watches, then distributed to a store of not much importance. This is where I was purchased by my first owner. I was made and I was the latest fashion, pure gold quite plain and my band was originally brown, I would like to say that my first owner chose me because I was unique in some way, or that I stood out but I was just the same. It is not your lives that are similar but your stories and experiences that make you different, so my apology for being so inaccurate, but I am now older, slower and my battery is fading once again, however a watch never sleeps. When we die, we do not forget, but we find ourselves rejuvenated. The same way you would if you held your breathe underwater for so long that when you reach the surface, you take a gasp and it is almost as if you have been dead. Beyond your doubt we do breathe, we do speak, but not in your language, we understand when you get mad at 'time' and many of my previous owners took out there anger quite roughly on me. I am a wristwatch, a living breathing inanimate object defying your logic by telling my story.