A short piece on my silent thoughts about writing in a journal and how private things need to be kept private.
A diary is like a confessional… the burial ground, the seed bed, the debating arena of all your deepest, darkest fears. No matter how large or small it is, it probably holds the biggest drama of the Colosseum of your life.
Inane or important, the words you write in it are of value to you or to anyone you wish to share it to. Which is why privacy is a necessary, albeit unspoken rule in diary-keeping. Oftentimes, it is the only refuge for a person to write down her troubles, and make sense of her loss. Or even simply, it is the repository of anger so it will come out only as screaming ink on paper, and not fists and yelling.
So, no, Ma’am, you cannot steal your teenager’s diary and yell at her because you’re upset of what she wrote about you. Maybe it would have stayed a healthy way of coping instead of you throwing theatrics and making it all complicated. It was never just about you.
If you see me nodding my head slowly and silently, I am not agreeing with you entirely, but it probably means that I’m writing in my mental diary, the words…that rhyme with truck and university. #Peeves
Edit: it’s 6:30am now, and rereading this made me realize how i need to edit some more, and how i’m fond of using lengthy sentences broken by commas.
While I aim to suck out “the marrow of life” on the street for my photography, I am, in many ways an introverted person. I could never dream of being a Bruce Gilden or a Chris Weeks who would get close enough to photograph.
At times when I get lucky, I’d be happy with the shot, or even try to befriend the person I was going to make my subject. Mostly, however, I am the type who would rather walk and watch on the sidelines…and be waiting to stealthily take a shot of something that catches my eye. Maybe I’m a Cartier-Bresson type, shy and quiet.
Other times, I would just look around and snap away…which is not the most desirable of techniques…
Anyway, I take photos to document life…as it happened around me. I’ve said repeatedly that I didn’t want anything to do with taking a lot of selfies of myself, or take pictures of the food I’d eaten exclusively. Perhaps I also think that it is the reason why I post so much so often, ignoring the advice of “letting it sit” for a while before processing it.
Well, we’ll learn eventually to do things as creatively as we please. So far, I’m on this phase for now. #
Perhaps there was never any other election as highly anticipated as this most recent one.
Everywhere, people went to their polling places to cast their vote for the next president and set of officials.
I went with my cousin and aunt to the elementary school on the hill, where our precinct was located, and like everyone else in the country, we waited in line for our turn. The sun was blazing hot, and there were no canopies anywhere, and I came sorely unprepared, in a way. I was dressed in comfortable clothes, I had a fan to cool myself/shield my eyes from the glare, and my camera fully charged and iphone ready to take pictures with.
(Of course, I had to call my father for an umbrella…which he came with, along with a bag with a towel and a bottle of water, haha).
Anyhow, these pictures are just snapshots of what the elections looked like in my locality.