Structural Patterns

Another shot of Anzac Bridge.
Another shot of part of its structure.

I think that the visible patterns on this one coalesce with each other quite well.

It probably has to do with how much of it is straight lines, as well as being part of a geometric structure.

I like that the photo is not completely in focus. There’s enough focus to know what everything is, but it seems that in this photo the focus being slightly off adds something that I can’t quite put my finger on.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy.

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Five-Hundred Word Challenge 268: Bean Bag

I want to preface the rest of this writing by stating that I think bean bags are really enjoyable.

Maybe it’s because I like sitting on the floor. I don’t quite know why I like bean bags.

However, there is one bean bag that I have not quite enjoyed.

When Je and I moved into our current house we found a grey bag tucked into a corner of the outside of the house.

It stayed in that corner for a few months before we did anything with it because… well, we’re lazy.

I’m not sure as toi when it happened, but we eventually realised that it was a bean bag.

I didn’t think it was worth keeping around (possibly; I can’t quite remember), but we moved it into the backyard as an additional seat for people to use.

It spent the majority of its time sitting in another corner, only being used three times (although it was quite possibly less).

About a month ago it was moved to the front once more, right next to our bins.

Probably due to weather changes the fabric ended up weakening and the bean bag gained a tear and began to spill its foam balls.

Thankfully it was not too many as picking up the foam balls is one of the most annoying things I have done in my life at this point.

I asked Je to clean them up as he had the day off work and I did not.
He did a really good job.

So the bean bag was moved next to our bins before Je started cleaning up the foam balls.
Whilst moving the bag it kept on tearing at the lightest of grabs which proved to be its own source of frustration as it made the goal of not letting any more foam balls get out much more difficult than it should have been.

A month passed where I would only think of the bean bag on occasion, mainly trying to figure out how we would dispose of it without creating a mess.

Then yesterday happened.

The bean bag is still there.

More of its contents has managed to get out of its confines.

Fun times.

Due to where we have the bean bag positioned, it decided that it was going to let out more of the foam balls onto the footpath outside of our house, as well as a not-insignificant amount into our front area for the wind to blow around as it pleases.

I spent about twenty minutes trying to pick up the ones on the footpath.
Twenty minutes of picking them up and then having them spill out of my hand with no provocation whilst trying not to have my breathing or movement blow the foam balls around any more, as I discovered that they really like to move around and find the idea of being stationary an affront to their very existence.

In the end I was successful.

I do not like that bean bag.

The time it took to write five-hundred words: 11:17:83

Longer than ten minutes, but I’m okay with it for some reason.

Written at home.

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Baby Dolphin Died in Spain

About ten or twenty minutes ago, I was reading about how a baby dolphin had died in Spain.

For reasons unknown, it ended up separated from its mother.
Things happen.

It ended up at a beach.

Then, in a display that goes to show just how intelligent some of us are, a bunch of people saw the baby dolphin, then flocked to it to take selfies.

The articles state that the baby dolphin was passed around by the people there for pictures and observation.

An onlooker did call emergency, but the baby dolphin was dead by the time they reached the beach which was fifteen minutes after the call.

How long was it before someone called emergency?

Just to make sure that this is clear, a bunch of people flocked around a baby dolphin and started harassing it and it may have been a while before someone called emergency.

What the fuck is wrong with people?

This is the kind of shitty behaviour that  everyone should refuse to tolerate.

It’s a living being, call emergency straight away and let them do what they can to keep it alive and safe. Don’t suddenly start fucking with the thing for your own gain.

I believe that it is more important to prioritise the environment and its inhabitants over the human race and things like this reinforce my belief.

Sometimes I wonder if people actually give a shit about the world around them when it’s inconvenient.

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River Crossing

So here’s the full view of the river that I crossed, as well as what I used to help me cross.

The thing I like about nature is that, in a way, it makes me go “Ooh, Shiny!” in that my mind gets taken away from the city (usually) and (some) of the problems or obligations I have to deal with.

Nature is also distracting in that it has so many interesting things to see contained within.

This is my submission into The Daily Post‘s photo challenge for this week.

I hope you enjoy.

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On one of the days before exams that I wandered through Darling Harbour, I saw this scene and decided to take a picture.

Well, that’s obvious. I would not be sharing the picture otherwise.

I think I’ve done a decent job of framing the scene.

I also think that the details are just enough and that there’s a lot of interesting shapes and forms, but the background is a little too busy in parts.

I think that this presents an interesting scene in that people going around and having to clean up rubbish in areas such as these is not something that we often think about.

This is my submission for Leanne Cole‘s Monochrome Madness this week.

I strongly recommend checking out Monochrome Madness and, if you partake in photography or have an interest in taking it up, then I also recommend submitting something. It’s a small,yet strong community-driven event that I honestly believe is worth the time.

I hope you enjoy.

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Serpentine Neck

When I originally thought of posting this picture (a few weeks ago now), the name for it (which was similar to the current one) popped into my head.

Not too sure as to why I haven’t completely changed the name.

I think that the swan was having a quick drink before going into the water. I cannot quite remember.

I think that there’s good form in how it has its neck positioned and I think that it reveals a certain grace in the swam.

I hope you enjoy.

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Five-Hundred Word Challenge 267: Something that Briefly Mentions Underpants

There are things that I want to write about in this given moment, but I don’t know what it is that I will choose write about.

Actually, I do, but I also know that there is not enough time to write what I want to write about.

The end of my lunch draws closer and closer and I must think of something that I can use.

I was going to rant about housemates, but I don’t think that it is worth the time, for there are more important things to write about, such as the inevitable feeling you get about the need to buy more underpants when you see a few holes forming in your underpants.

The weight of the world surely rests upon your shoulders in those grievous situations that so verily torment the hearts that we share among each other.

What a terrible situation. Must we endure this kind of torment in our lives?

Must we have to be made top suffer for some sort of social engineering good will of the populace under a microcosm of unity and individual will?

Do we really need to sit down, when we should fight and stand against this heinous crime that causes us to cry out in anguish at night, therefore interrupting our sleep and leaving us with a little more to worry about on the odd occasion?

This is something that we should stop accepting. We must rise and take back our destinies under the moon of the forest that points southward when the eels in the river signify their opulence to us all, for when that moment comes there shall be soaring within the realms of the sky, toward a new dawn, toward an uncertain future that only we will be able to face if we make sure to discard the past that we continually refuse to let go of, therefore letting us step through the door that has always been shown to us, for only we can step through the door. It is not up to anyone else to control our courage. Only we can face the past and shoot it down, therefore allowing us to be able to continue our journey to becoming far more enlightened beings and guiding the collective conscious to a new realm of possibility and unity and enlightenment and wisdom and various other words that I cannot be bothered to think of right now, such as “treatise” and “port”.

Of course, we need to make sure that we do not attach ourselves to some sort of charismatic dogma, for if we do, it may run wild and we may be forced into a position where we have to strike ourselves down, all in the name of durable underpants that will forever be comfortable,  yet practical in ways that have not yet been thought.

This may all seem a little unrealistic, but with enough courage we can make it to places where we are yet to be, with a great deal of gusto.

The time it took to write five-hundred words: 06:30:78

Well, that was certainly something.


Written at work.

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