Shiny Things

I hate photography.

I used to look at the world and see what was there.

Pretty lady. Old guy sitting in a park. Lake, mountain, snow.

I get on the bus to go to work, see an attractive girl and all I can think is “if the light coming in that window were a little stronger it’d make a fantastic portrait.”

I have a dick. Why have I stopped thinking with it?

This would at least be mildly bearable if I didn’t always fall short when triggering the shutter.

Wandering around Flickr is like staring into an ocean of inspiration only to drown as soon as I jump in.

It’s always going to be this way. It’s always going to torment me.

I love photography.