Listening to this music makes me imagine that I'm dancing in the midst of an ancient ball, in one of those huge dresses with frills everywhere and locks of long hair neatly arranged on top of my head to cascade down my back. The ballroom is full of beautifully dressed people wearing Venice masks and all of us are moving perfectly in rythm with the music coming from a large orchestra at the far end of walls painted crimson and gold.
I really do have too much imagination... but if it wasn't for it I think I would have lost the will to even merely exist a long time ago.
On a more 'reality-bound' note, I have actually spent much time stepping up my game in search of that all elusive job that will at least allow me to carry on developping my journalistic skills. I know that the right job will come along when the time comes for it to come, and so long as I keep my eyes open, I don't think I'll miss the boat this time.
Then... I was looking at old landscape photographs I used to take when I was younger. Many of them looked like this:
This sort of pictures I would take every year as I was sent away for the summer holidays and every time my mother looked at them upon my return she would shake her head in disappointment because most of the pictures depicted mostly landscapes rather than people or myself.
"What's the point in taking such pictures?" She would ask me.
"Just because... It was so beautiful, mum," I would explain.
"But I can't see you in them... It's just trees, lakes and flowers... The point of taking pictures while you're away is so you can show me what you've been doing," she would insist.
"But you know me already, mum," I'd carry on. "I wanted to share with you how beautiful the place was because you weren't there to see it, but I wish you could have seen it with your own eyes..."
Mother would then sigh and ruffle my hair.
"Well, next time take more pictures of people rather than trees."
Take pictures of people? Let's just say I never took that advice too seriously.
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