Step Into My Shoes..

About 3 and a half years ago, I had posted a blog piece called, "Are you friends with me? I think I know your type." It referred to being friends with me in Facebook. 3 and a half years later, I no longer am a user. I have moved to being a compulsive and abusive user of another application - Instagram, and I feel the need to diagnose the types of people I am connected to here.  **Disclaimer - I mean no offence. Broadly, there are 7 types of people for me on Instagram, 1) The ones I follow and the ones that follow me back (doesn't matter who followed who first, it's like which came first, the chicken or the egg) eg. close friends and family 2) The ones that only I follow and ones that don't and will not follow me back, but the ones I will keep on following regardless. eg. Liverpool Football Club 3) The ones that follow me but ones I won't follow back, either because a) their profiles are private (don't know why people expect...

When I first joined Instagram about 5 years ago, I had felt like I had joined the party too late. Everyone I knew had an account. After a few months though, I realized that I was the only one really enjoying the party. Most people didn't even open their page, much less post anything. I then had to turn to people who I didn't know, who were actually using the app in full swing. I miss the frivolity with which I could post anything, anytime, without the care, without the judgement. What followers and following I had, I had inherited from Twitter and they would be the last to judge me for the frequency with which I posted. The food I ate, the birds I saw, the drops of water, the screenshots of my tweet, random quote-y picture from the Internet, anything interesting I stumbled upon. I didn't care for the likes, the follows. Swipe a few times, the filters seemed to make my pictures better; apply that Lo-Fi border and the post became absolutely gorgeous. Everything was beau...

Here is an unflattering picture I took of the Sydney Opera House on my way to work one day. Overhung clouds, greyish day, Opera out of the clear line of sight behind the bridge bar and not to mention the low quality of the picture. I guess the most beautiful of things have their own low moments. Perhaps from some other angle it might have looked prettier and more attractive, if the day had been sunnier, it might've seemed alluring, if I had been used a better camera, it surely might've had a chance of showing off how truly beautiful it actually is. But it didn't happen. And here we are looking at the famous Opera House, looking not-so picturesque. Here is a fabulous picture of Opera House for you though. ;)