Weekly Photo Challenge: (No) Favourites

In response to WP Weekly Photo Challenge: All-Time Favourites.

Favourites I have none. Wait. Regrets I have none is how the phrase goes. Except it’s not true. Of course I have regrets that the Daily Post rolled over and quit. Except— it’s more of grudge than regrets. So the opening line of this post should have been Regrets I have none, grudge I have some. Grudge I have all, y’all.

Let’s try this again. WordPress’s last Photo Challenge is on the prompt of All-Time Favourites. For a fact. I’m quite relieved, also for a fact, because I was half-convinced that the last prompt would be either dull and obvious (such as The End) and/or dumb and sentimental (such as Farewell). The Favourites prompt isn’t thrilling but is half-decent.

Except I don’t have even half-decent all-time favourites. I refuse to dig in the archives. What for? What would I find there besides old dry bones? I don’t need to go back to produce crappy photos as per my trademark.

Incidentally, for a few months at the start of this year, I was running (while refusing the fact that I was running) a self-imposed self-challenge of posting a photo a day on Instagram and then reposting them here in weekly batches. What’s interesting about it? Nothing, I didn’t say it was interesting.

I quit this thing sometime in April. I found that the idea was nice but the execution was— how to say it nicely? Shitty? That will do. While it was an excellent plan to practise mindfulness and presence and whatnot and take a photo a day, it proved increasingly difficult because I hardly ever go out. So I literally ran out of things to shoot.

Hello, are you still there? If so, good, because I just got down to the point. If not— well, good on you. You know what my point is? Nothing! I’m notorious for making the point that I have no point. In lieu of a point, here’s a mess of my Instagram pictures from April, as yet unposted on the blog.

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WordPress’s Daily Post Quits—Now What?

In case you haven’t heard yet, the Daily Post is a goner. It bothers me more than it should. As we say in the second world, it’s not like bread is gonna be cheaper for that, so why care. As I hear is legit in the first world, though, one has the privilege to rant about things. Let’s do this!

Stages of Grief

I’ve gone through the five stages of grief regarding the Daily Post’s demise.

  1. Denial (“What? Nooo—!!!”)
  2. Anger (“Losers! Quitters! Traitors! Class enemies!” — Please note that “class enemy” is a cultural thing and it’s a bad thing to be. The worst, actually.)
  3. Bargaining (“How hard is it to keep the thing running, huh? As Ben admits in his post on the Daily Post, WordPress servers shall be chugging along for the next 14,320,078 years, so come on!”)
  4. Depression (“Can’t even…”)
  5. Acceptance (“As you wish.” — That means I strongly disagree with you but currently can’t think of any means to bring you to senses.)

I even added an extra stage, just for the fun of grieving.

  1. Resistance (“You won’t take responsibility? Fine. I’ll take it myself. In yer face.”)
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Random picture

Stages of Feelings

I notoriously suck at connecting with my feelings because I read on Freud’s virtues of repression in an impressionable age and it stuck. I perfected the art of not admitting to feeling anything to the point of actually not feeling anything. That is, besides a single uniform formless emotion, whose name I don’t know but which is dull and depressing. I think it’s a constant lack of will to live. Is that an emotion? I need to practise naming emotions, so let’s identify how I feel about the Daily Post’s decease.

  1. Disappointment — I was dumb enough to form some expectations and to believe that at least over at WordPress, everything will be as it should be. That’s disappointing on so many levels. (Which I’m too lazy to describe, so trust me—and you shall be betrayed! See below.)
  2. Betrayal — Well, I didn’t sign up for this. For WordPress quitting on me.
  3. Guilt — I should have had more sense than to be trustful and end up cheated, so serve me just right.
  4. Anger — I was totally triggered by the mention of the discontinuation of the Daily Post being “a hard decision” in the post bringing this news. Saying “a hard decision” means avoiding telling the real reason.
  5. Loss of faith in humanity — See above. I wonder what the real reason for this “hard decision” was. Kidding, I don’t wonder, we live in a capitalist society (even me), so it’s an easy guess.
  6. Affirmation — The Daily Post challenges kept me blogging and connected with the world when I was too depressed and/or busy to even—  But we’re ultimately all alone, so it’s up to me to do shit. You know, like to blog about it. Incidentally, I just did that.

Weekly Photo Challenge: Twisted

In response to WP Weekly Photo Challenge: Twisted.

I have a twisted sense of humour. As it doesn’t lend itself quite easily to photography, here’s the twist in the twisted form of twisted twigs.

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Weekly Photo Challenge: Liquid

In response to WP Weekly Photo Challenge: Liquid.

Liquid? Indeed. That I can do well.

Weekly Photo Challenge: Place

In response to WP Weekly Photo Challenge: Place.

This could be anywhere. Or could it? It’s not anywhere anyway. It’s Eastern Europe. Not eastern Europe with a lower-case e as a geographical region, but Eastern Europe capitalised as a former political unit (aka Eastern Bloc), which still retains its sociocultural characteristics today. Why should you care? Oh, you shouldn’t! Unless you’re into places in the middle of nowhere. That’s where my place is. Nowhere. I’m saying, not complaining.

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I’m Great with Kids (Not)

I’m squatting at my balcony, smoking and minding my own business. Apparently, me minding my own business does not impress on others that they had better mind their own business too because after a while, I’m hearing some high-pitched shrieking noises that won’t stop. Then I notice it’s the neighbour’s kids jumping up and down at the common backyard and screaming, Mornin’!

They seem to be looking straight at me, though I can’t be sure, as I’m badly short-sighted. I turn my head antagonistically in their direction and yell back, Morning what? The kids, pleased to have established contact, enthusiastically cry back, G’ mornin’! I grunt, I wish it were, and continue minding my own business, hoping the kids will take the cue.

They don’t. Soon they’re yelling again, We have a tiny little problem here, missus! I interpret this as an act of war and rise up to the challenge. My joints squeaking a bit, I stand up to the full extent of my medium height. I do a hair toss with the half of my head which has hair and rub thoughtfully the half of my head which is buzzed. I pet the cat sitting on my shoulder and cough up a furball.

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How is this picture relevant to the story? I don’t know. You tell me.

While I’m preparing myself thus to confront the enemy, the kids shout that they accidentally threw a ball on the roof. I’m genuinely dumbfounded, so I say, How is that any of my problem? The boy kid says, Duh, and, Can I climb for it? I take a long draw of my cigarette in lieu of a dramatic pause. I say, I don’t know. Can you? The boy kid accepts the challenge and assures me he can.

Then it dawns on me that the kids are of the tender age when they still believe that grown-ups have answers to all the world’s problems. So I decide to take responsibility and yell at the kid that using a shopping trolley to climb somewhere isn’t a good idea because, duh, wheels. Unless you’re suicidal, of course, I add. The kid doesn’t know what suicidal means. One lucky bastard.

While I’m at it, I warn the kid that if he damages the roof, his parents are going to pay for it. Literally. Finally, I suggest that they summon their parent or legal guardian, finish my cigarette and retire, hoping the kid won’t break his neck. On the other hand, it would probably discourage him from nagging random people in the future. I’m great with kids, aren’t I?

It’s Weirdly Quiet

When it’s quiet
I think I’m deaf or dead
But—
How do I tell?

So, I say (quiet)
Hey—
Anybody out there?

Sometimes
The cat comes (quiet)
But all remains—
Quiet

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Quiet out there

 

Weekly Photo Challenge: Unlikely

In response to WP Weekly Photo Challenge: Unlikely.

Most unlikely things happen in airport hotel diners. Such as me finding myself in one.

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