Snapshots of my life
Photography is magical. It's like a time machine, forever trapping slices of life in its frames. That's how I always viewed the photos I took. They are like bookmarks, allowing me to flip back and reanimate my memories. It's sad really, to think that they depict states of the world that will never be again, and only lingers with promises of places we can never return to. So why is it that I have yet to take a photograph for so long? Was my life during the past half an year so uninteresting? I have to admit my life had falling into a nice routine. Wake up, school/work, kungfu, rinse, repeat. The excitment is deafening isn't it? Maybe I should pick up the camera, and seek out all the excitment around me again.