Why does it have to happen to me...
Why does it have to happen to me; over and over again?
I can never seem to understand why could it be just so difficult for me to have a peaceful day of photo shooting with the company of my parents. As it is, they would start to bicker, and I would have to unwillingly jump into their squabbles, since it ensued because of me – and which, of course, does not help one bit. I am going to be extremely glad when this new photography project is over, because it is going to be the last – I absolutely do not harbour any desire to see my camera again for a very long period of time. I have never had an object of hate before; this is going to be the first. And it costed me (or rather, my father’s) RM1500. A rather high price to pay for hate, huh. I can see that a few of my previous posts have been related to my dislike towards photography, and so it gets a bit redundant, really. Oddly enough, I am not the only one who feels the same way – my roommate has begun to feel tired of it as well.
Perhaps we have been learning it the wrong way – but it is the only way to learn photography. To snap pictures according to a certain set of guidelines, skip our other classes in order to develop the pictures, and then seek approval from the Mr. Bigshot Fickle Lecturer and submit the assignment – or else! We realise that we have been doing it all for the sake of our grades, marks – for a bloody assignment. That whole process sounds tedious. If only we could treat photography as a hobby, not work – only then, our actions would not be restricted; our photos not rejected; our efforts very much worth it; and the self-learning and experience gained as a good way to improve ourselves.
Yeah, maybe in ten years’ time. When I am all ready to dig out the camera and films again from the deepest and untouched corners of my closet.
I am also rather pissed that some certain things just love to happen to me, and just not for the first time. Back in school, people had to count on me as the backup in group projects – all during the eleventh hour, when there are no other substitutes; when most have miraculously disappeared. Friday was no exception. I hated doing presentations verbally, because I get nervous easily and ramble like a train everytime I speak to an audience – which was why I had mention to them earlier, that I would not be doing any talking at all for the Malaysian Studies presentation. Therefore, when two groupmates who were suppose to address the audience were absent yesterday, I had to stand in – for only one of them, thank goodness – and was told of the news on Thursday evening. Such a convenient time; but I was informed that they could not be present due to emergencies. Perhaps I should be more considerate and accept their excuses, since it is not like I was made to present one hundred Powerpoint slides; but it just is not easy when it keeps happening to you – to the point whereby you hope you would have become indifferent and numb to the situation – but realise that it was not to be.
By the way, I did change the top and bottom graphics, yes. But that is about it.
On air now: Hey Man, Nice Shot, Filter