This may or may not make for a good story, probably not, not because I’m negativist but because you should shut up when fishing not to disturb the fish. So I hear, but I wouldn’t know, I get my fish in the supermarket.
I’m worried about myself. I sort of pledged to myself that I wouldn’t be doing any 365 challenge crap ever again but that’s exactly what I appear to be doing. Fortunately, there were no witnesses to my pledge, and dead men tell no lies the cat doesn’t talk. So here’s another week’s worth of a photo a day on my Instagram.
My interpretation of this week’s clue is even looser than usual (not to be confused with loser, though the latter also incidentally applies). I don’t know what’s sweet about solitude and the picture doesn’t even capture solitude (there were plenty of people around), but I make a rule of not taking pictures of food. Sweet food in particular. Why look at food you can’t eat? What kind of devilish self-torture is that?
I went out shooting for a bit today. There’s chronically nothing to shoot around. So I made do with the seasonal enhancements to the village square. I deliberately toned down the bright colours and cheeky glitter in some parts of the photos. To me, this is a more appropriate representation of the season than the false cheer that one is force-fed.
I perceive Christmas as the epitome of falsitude. Whether we view it as an originally pagan or as a Christian celebration, people who are neither ancient pagans nor Christians celebrate it nowadays. I find this extremely puzzling. What I associate most with the season, besides false cheer, is obligation and duty misrepresented as affection and love.
Also, there is seasonal anxiety, pressure, vague disappointment, gnawing aimlessness, deeply felt loneliness, fear of the new year, regrets about the old year, unfulfilment and all that is crap. Along these lines, here are my crappy photos.
In response to WP Weekly Photo Challenge: Meaningful.
This year’s last photo challenge is supposed to be meaningful. I actually read the instructions in the post, because that’s what I do, and the idea is to post a photo that is meaningful.
That is an impossible task because nothing is inherently meaningful. Things are only endowed with such meanings as we ascribe them. On the same subversive note, here’s a crappy photo which I subjected to filter torture. It was crappy before and it’s still crappy.
What’s meaningful about it is that it’s the first photo I took this year with my DSLR. It was on my birthday, coincidentally. Which might add an extra layer of meaning for some, though I consider birthdays a threatening occasion which only serves to remind us of our mortality.
My argument is, is there meaning to anything when we’re going to die anyway? Sorry, I digressed into meaninglessness. I think it’s called nihilism in philosophy and depression in psychiatry.
I was flirting with the idea of posting a snap of my literal cheeks for the challenge (not face cheeks, as I don’t post my face all over the internet, the other ones (as I totally post my ass all over the internet?)). But I can do better than a Kardashian. So in lieu of a butt, there’s this phallic little guy poking out of the picture (a stunted sprout? Whatever it’s called in English and in botany; Freud would call it a phallic symbol, and who am I to oppose Freud, right?).