A few moments ago, I heard fireworks, and went out in the darkness to try and see them. They’d stopped by then, but the sky was really beautiful – these massive trees overshadowing our house against a black, sky-dotted sky that gradually faded to purple, then white. So I went back and got my camera and tried to take a photo of it, but it wouldn’t take a photo because it was too dark. When erasing the failed photos, I saw some photos from our last holiday and thought about erasing them, suddenly violently hating them.
And I’m like that. I think I’ve said here a few times that whenever I look at old articles and photos of me, I wish I could burn every one of them.
Before DT happened, and now, I’m terrified of having photos taken of me. The only difference now is that I’ll allow them if they’re professional. Other than that, and it feels wrong, nothing like me at all. And I hate what’s shown on the camera’s screen, same as I hate what I see in the mirror.
I guess this reflects my attitude to other past in a way – I hate it, wish I could just forget it. I hate my memories of myself, or everything. None of it seems right, none of it seems like me. I’m still not me, but at least I’m not what I was back then.
Can you say self-image issues?
Thing is, I love photography and would love to try it. I get nostalgic for the old days of darkrooms, and when I have the money, I plan to buy a Canon EOS 1D Mark II N and a Canon EOS 350D, maybe get some advice from the professional photographers I see quite a lot on what lenses to use, and learn to properly capture all these beautiful things I keep seeing in life. I’m terrified I’ll forget what they looked like, just like how I’m going to forgot how the sky looked tonight. I want to be the kid with the camera round their neck who tells you that you’re beautiful, then shows you that you are so you won’t forget and you’ll believe it.
It’s funny how I can mix so many dreams with wishes of death and feelings of hopelessness and loneliness. I guess it comes from living in a nightmare.
Readers, if there’s any of you left – what do you think of and see in photographs? What do they mean to you?
Send me e-mails, start up a topic quoting this post on the Writer’s Block, reply to this post, write stories about it, just think about it and decide for yourself.