Ice cream cone #82

• Sooooo, no new name for the cone. Still the overly happy post title that in certain ways annoys me.
• Apparently I haven't written much about work in here. Probably because it's not awfully to my passion, which is weird because I swear sometimes I do feel passionate about it, and I'm the kind of person who can't get any work done without inspiration or good inner motivation. But I guess my work, in my opinion, only defines itself by photography.
• It's kind of true. It's the only thing that I consider an outcome of this. Anything else seems a bit vague and I constantly feel like I don't quite finish the job.
• But ever since I had this 4 megapixel camera that didn't do much of the job, I had this desire to photograph fashion lifestyle. I've always been a fan of toying around with clothes and accessories and finding the right composition. It's art at its best, because it expresses personality directly and fiercely, well, depends on the person, probably. But I haven't had much success in creating those photos. Don't know why, although I've tried and gone into some serious researching, but not much have improved.
• So I switched to food photography, and suddenly it was so much easier. I don't know if it's the much less complicated subject, or because it's another form of art being put together, maybe it's the form of art that indulges the cameramen enough that they can actually taste it. Nevertheless, I started to feel happy about my work again. And it partly satisfies my passion to take fashion photos, kind of makes me believe I'm not that useless with an overpriced camera.
• Every single time I log on to this blog I wander around the good ol' fashion // lifestyle blogs that I've been following for years. I don't add any more blogs because partly I don't find any blogs that are worth adding anymore, and partly because it's really hard to find someone whose work you can get so easily inspired from. And every single time I scroll through those blogs, I feel small, like the work I've done with food is just sand, and theirs are miles and miles of woods. It's almost like a guilty pleasure, because the photos that they took can inspire me to the point where I can pick up a camera to go anywhere just to take a memory card full of photos, then return home, edit all of them and upload them all here. But at the same time, it's just sad, because I'm still here, sitting in the chair I've been sitting for the past 6 years, still blogging about how left out I feel from the world, it just doesn't feel like I'm getting anywhere with this.
• But, to be fair, I might not get as much success as I did if I had a chance to work with real fashion shoots. Food, in some ways, are much more forgiving, and I can put my own opinion into a photo without having anyone telling me they could hire someone who works better in fifteen seconds.
• Food photography is my comfort zone.
• Doesn't make much sense, but, just a few thoughts that I need to get out of my head.

Ice cream cone #81

• No more yogurt cup, I've been writing yogurt cup for somewhat 2 or 3 years now. Time to change. But I might keep changing it until I finally can find something that I really like, cause Ice cream cone sounds a bit too happy for these types of writing.
• Unlike yogurt cups. They're neutral. You could like or not like a yogurt cup. I don't like eating yogurt that badly, I just like the idea of a big paper cup full of soft yogurt, topped with lots and lots of fruit and maybe a glaze of chocolate sauce. Well, on some days, my words are just plain yogurt, on other days, they're topped with something happy. Ice cream cones seem like they always resemble something happy, they're never sad, and everyone seems to like a good big ice cream cone.
• That's it. I'm gonna come up with something more appropriate next time.
• Happy new year. On the first week of new year I burnt my leg pretty badly with the scroller, found out that I passed Linguistics, had to stay at home for two straight days, received two comments about how much I've gained weight (one from a colleague from mom's office, one very long and detailed from mom about which exact part of my body have gained weight and how badly I look now). Yayy to 2014.
• Made me come back to think does it really matter that much? They could adopt if I get too ugly you know. They could've done it when I started that acne phrase in 8th grade. I'm ugly all the time if you didn't notice.
• That grammar nazi guy who'd been annoying me secretly for half a year finally took a hit on me, right when I was not in my best mood. And I reacted, as naturally as I could've, and I was pretty sure he sat back with shock and disgust about the new kind of person he just found out in me. Thinking back about it, it's pretty funny though, cause most of the time people just think I'm this easily trusting and quite dinky girl who talks too much and can be fooled by almost anything. Therefore, she can't react for the sake of it.
• Even my best friend thinks I trust people too much. How is that?
• Yesterday I had this terrible migraine that occasionally sneak up on me when I'm not getting much sleep (which I highly doubt since I finished all of my exams about 5 days ago and indulge myself everyday to a 9-hour sleep, hence the weight gain and the very "constructive" comments above), and had this immediate urge to go to bed, or else I'd throw up or pass out at some point. And no calls.
• It's funny to think, since I make the call everyday, having this need to talk, and then one day I don't, and it doesn't bother anybody in the world, that I have to go to be at 9:30 because this frigging migraine was haunting me, he still lives happily and busily. And then i realized something I should have two thousand years ago: He doesn't care about me at all. Why should I make the call everyday, to someone who doesn't even appreciate the effort or the feelings anyways? It's just sick, and I really don't wanna talk to him about it, cause every time I do, or try to, he'll pull out one of the cards, in this box that says "Excuses", and reads loudly and emotionally, and forces me to shut up and accept it. 
• Why should I waste time, emotions and words for someone who has never succeeded in making me happy?
• I had this problem when I was around 16 or 17 is that I truly did not believe that anyone could see through me, I saw those love photos on flickr, I watched all of those movies, I listened to all of those songs, and they appeared fake to me. It's like they made it up to sell to girls who were emotionally inexperienced like me, when I was 16.
• Then I turn 18 and got this so-called "taste" of having a so-called partner. And then suddenly they made sense. Like, I knew the feelings expressed in those works were real, they didn't write it from a place in their brains that only wanted to sell records or tickets. What a revolution.
• And as I turned 20, this so-called partner of mine has made me despise all of those songs and movies and photos that seemingly made sense. Because no such good things could happen to people. Because they didn't happen to me. I'm just constantly surrounded by reasons and excuses and sighs and scolds that I got to the point where I don't understand what being treated well is like.
• And then it dawned on me. I was treated badly by almost every guy who had this fucking idea of interest in me. Summer flings, phone calls to their girlfriends to make sure that they won't show up before making a word to go have lunch with me (it's a fast-food lunch, dumbass -- not like I asked you to take me to a senior prom or anything), messages on facebook asking how I've been, although they're not that very interested in finding out about me anyways,... Why are you interested in me when all you do is to treat me like some kind of stray cat? I'm not scared of being alone you know. It's so much more liberating than having lines and lines of things to be concerned about, especially if those concerns come from unworthy people.
• I'll just wait til Camellia's finished with her exams and then maybe we'll go somewhere and take nice photos and maybe hang out with people I haven't seen in years and forget about all of this goddamn mess.
• And here are some photos to make my post not look so depressed.