Newness.

I just spent the last few hours deleting old pictures from my flickr account.

I'm a sneaky private chick, which is why i have not added a link to the flickr account I created 3 years old on this blog.

Debbie Downer from my days as a library shelver suggested I join, because she knew that I liked to take pictures and outside of facebook and this here journal I wanted another place to post pics.

I love flickr. I visit it almost daily to favorite new and interesting shots. If I were a more ambitious person I would probably want to take up photography in some fashion. I like the idea of taking photos and writing up things about the image. In the bizarro version of my current self, I would have been a photojournalist. Traveling around the world photographing amazing and tragic things.

While flickr is awesome there are some limitations as a free member. I can upload as many photos as I want but I only have access to view 200 of the most current images. The rest, while still uploaded, are not visible to me or anyone else. I could of course upgrade to a premium account for $25/year and have full access to all the photos I have taken but I don't see the point.

Photography has become a hobby because writing isn't anymore. It's something I have come to realize is not a bad thing. I mean I admit, it is sort of the drawback. I miss the days when I could spend hours in bed, writing stories in a notebook that literally cost me a dollar. But now that I know I eventually want it to be a full time thing in some capacity, writing (excluding journal writing) is less personal and leisurely. It, in some way, is a job I am working on perfecting.

And that is why I have substituted taking pictures in its place. Snapping photos creates the same sense of calm and excitement that writing does. And the satisfaction is immediate thanks to digital photography (though I am looking to venture back into the world of film photography). I quite enjoy the freedom of photography and being able to post them on Flickr is cool.

I discovered a loophole a few weeks back in regards to the free member limitations. A loophole that allows me to see some of the old shots I have taken in the 3 years since I joined. By deleting some of my less than stellar pictures (mainly current shots of my sneakers) I gain an old photo from the archive.

It's so weird going through my pictures I took when I was 22. Not as weird as reading posts from six years ago but the feeling is generally the same.

Despite reveling in each reveal of an old photo, I found myself deleting a lot of the older pictures in favor of my new ones. They pictures from 'way back when' make me uncomfortable. I feel like such a different person I can't imagine that there was a time that that me ever existed. On this blog i never ever feel that way. Writing continues to be my heart. It reveals and affirms who i am on a daily basis. But pictures not so much. I remember taking a bunch of the older pictures out of loneliness. or boredom.

They don't so much as tell a story but rather bring up feelings of isolation. The shots were always very fleeting, askew and out of focus images. Things I shot on a whim. Things to fill in the emptiness. I know I should prefer the old images and what they captured but I couldn't.

I use to hate when my mom threw out things, especially because I am such a pack rat. I will keep notes that I myself have written just because I can. I hold on to everything because there are parts of me that are very dismissive and flaky. I hold on to things to remember that it meant something. And when I am ready to chunk it away (or delete the archives), it is only because I have resolved myself to that past and am ready to move forward.

This has nothing to do with this blog. God, i can't even contemplate this journal not being a part of my life. Lately I have been trying to understand my loss of energy. The mojo has left the building again and I am in a desperate search to find it again. And I think it is because I need to find a way to move on from my current situation here. I need something to start happening or I will freak the hell out.

Because I have always felt displaced (and an outsider) I will (forever)be uncomfortable with idea of creating and maintaining a homestead. The thought of settling down anywhere is just terrifying. Of course the idea is not outside of my periphery but it still caused night terrors. I fear that i will always desire something new and spend all my time wondering about 'what's over there' rather than 'what I have'. Especially if I am not sure if what I have is what I want.

Now that March has come and gone I feel....dismal. It's like I've returned home from a long vacation and am settling back into the grind again. Except, I wasn't away. I haven't gone anywhere. Why then do I have this very unsettling feelings of lethargy.

And I realize a bunch of it has to do with newness. Or rather my lack of it. I feel like I spent the bulk of march making room for something new and exciting to fill the void that is post grad existence. March was flipping amazing. I felt confidant, and happy and that things were finally falling into place. Like those old pictures from flickr, i deleted the crap out of things to make room for better things. Like mentally I had a detox of negativity. It was great.

And then March came to a close and April ushered itself in and it's as if life has returned to normal. I feel all light and load-less yet nothing has changed. And if this continues to be normal I don't know what I'll do. I am worn out by the routine. This is worse than the seven year itch. I feel like I am in a novel where the protagonist is living a very boring existence and hers dreams of escaping are met with resistance. Oh my god, maybe I am living a freaking a Richard Yates novel. Please dear god no.

Whatever the case I need something to happen. I need to make something happen. I need a plan. I then need to execute that plan, and then finalize the sucker. I feel an incredible void in my life that I finally realize is unfulfillment. Hell, I know I'm only 25 and I don't need to have my shit together. But at least being on the path to 'shit togetherness' is better than nothing. Right?