Here are some disposable pictures of friends and family that I took over the summer using a disposable and a super sampler four lens lomography camera. The latter are supposed to capture images in motion, however they all look pretty much the same stand still. As the forth coming months in Bournemouth approach I realise how much I will miss the commotion of the city, the laughs and deep sentimentality I experienced everyday in an old student house in the midst of South East London. Runs to telegraph hill, Nunhead cemetry and endless coffee breaks at Browns. The deadlines that unpicked and poached at the seams of each co-habitants calm facade has left me endangered in falsely gratifying new future bonds. Phone calls are not the same, I am left to grieve books and friendships.
Besides my revelling in self pity, I start an MA journalism tomorrow morning at Bournemouth University. Last minute decision; to try and equip me with skills for the job circuit- I feel like I am going in blind folded the thoughts that supplemented my graduate blues of walking in limbo may leave me walking in deadly regretful shadows for next year. This all may seem very dramatic but the cuccoon that Bournemouth builds around it’s inhabitants is extra repulsive for an individual who feels indebted to break it’s walls. I am currently sitting in a new hide away I have found (whilst trying to get a part-time waitress job) over hearing a conversation about putting strange objects such as battery packs in one’s mouth. This is rather refreshing to hear, I miss these strange topical conversations- when suddenly go missing you find yourself searching for new strange groups of people to build strange conversations with. You never know what you will learn. London is the kind of place where you have to build yourself on conversations of the unknown; of what you might find yourself talking about. I have had the most strange conversations with the most interesting individuals, wondering automatically becomes addictive.
So tomorrow, what awaits me should be interesting. Consuming myself in even more studies whilst living with my family whose lifestyles and schedules are utterly consumed in soap opera media and big brother; hence my only form of interesting encounters is to sit in restaurants alone around the town and write this reflective blog.
Besides my revelling in self pity, I start an MA journalism tomorrow morning at Bournemouth University. Last minute decision; to try and equip me with skills for the job circuit- I feel like I am going in blind folded the thoughts that supplemented my graduate blues of walking in limbo may leave me walking in deadly regretful shadows for next year. This all may seem very dramatic but the cuccoon that Bournemouth builds around it’s inhabitants is extra repulsive for an individual who feels indebted to break it’s walls. I am currently sitting in a new hide away I have found (whilst trying to get a part-time waitress job) over hearing a conversation about putting strange objects such as battery packs in one’s mouth. This is rather refreshing to hear, I miss these strange topical conversations- when suddenly go missing you find yourself searching for new strange groups of people to build strange conversations with. You never know what you will learn. London is the kind of place where you have to build yourself on conversations of the unknown; of what you might find yourself talking about. I have had the most strange conversations with the most interesting individuals, wondering automatically becomes addictive.
So tomorrow, what awaits me should be interesting. Consuming myself in even more studies whilst living with my family whose lifestyles and schedules are utterly consumed in soap opera media and big brother; hence my only form of interesting encounters is to sit in restaurants alone around the town and write this reflective blog.
