Welcome to Gaia! :: View User's Journal | Gaia Journals

First off, I'd like to apologize for not having uploaded an entry lately. Over Christmas break, I had a few cousins come over. Before the break, I was readying up the house for their arrival and stay. During the break, I was keeping them company. After the break, I was cleaning up.

I'm a bit sad that I missed my entry scheduled for New Years though. I mean, I didn't have much of a plan for it, but I wanted to start off the year with entries. They say, what you do at the beginning of the year reflects what you'll be doing for the rest of the year... or something like that.

It doesn't mean much now, but happy New Years! Or rather, happy belated New Years! biggrin

So, the topic for today will be based off of my phone.

I have a Nokia C3-00. It's not anything extravagant, I have to admit. It passes for a modern-day phone. It can call, text, take pictures... etc.

I love my phone. I've had it for.. three year and counting! blaugh It looks dead, but I can assure you, it works great.

So anyways, it does have a limited memory. What takes a lot of the space are the pictures. I take pictures every now and then to capture precious moments or spurs of creativity. I've taken 1000+ pictures already, but I currently only have 39. This is because of the limited memory.

I've learned to delete pictures that lose their significance or didn't have any to begin with. It's hard deciding to delete a picture that I previously thought I would keep.

Here's the thing: I will remember the picture. I will remember the moment. Everything about the picture, about the time it captured, I will know it, and remember it. In saying that, there's not really a point to keep the picture.

I want to show people my photos. I can't upload them, so I keep them in my phone. I usually delete them after I've showed it to the person who it needs to be shown to. Lately, I haven't been doing that so much, and my photos are stacking up.

Today, in the bus, I was looking through the images, reminiscing in their glory. I thought to myself, "this was the first winter with this phone," "this was the silly store sign," "this was when I was in custody of my sister's tamogachi.." stuff like that. I have all these precious thoughts, but no one to share them.

I'm not a person to share knowledge easily. I want everybody to be smart, which makes me sound really nice and all. I don't want anyone to be smarter than me though. I will teach what I know, and learn more without my students. Because of this, I'm not the type of person who openly expresses their opinion on certain things.

These pictures, I have no reason to keep them, but it's so lonely when there's no one to share with. This time, I even WANT to share. I want someone to know the pleasantries of my life. It seems that only I know, and that makes my pleasantries less... pleasant. sweatdrop

So yeah. Anyways, the point of this entry was supposed to be about how when people share the photos, it is almost as if every photo has a story of it's own.

I have a picture of a brown/black/white tabby cat. It has a story.

The start of summer two year ago...

I drank too much coffee. I was up 6:00am, having not slept since school ended. I heard a faint noise. It was a familiar noise. I had heard it yesterday also, and possibly even the day before. Finally, I mustered up the energy to discover the source of the odd noise. Like I do when this kind of thing happens, I look out the window.

It was dark that day. There was only a faint light shining from our dinning room, through the blinded windows, and onto the back deck. There was a bench rested against the wall directly beneath my bedroom. It was hard to see, but if I tiptoed, it came in view.

Tiptoeing, I looked down. I saw a face stare back at me. Startled I was at first, but it took a few mere seconds before I realized it was a cat. It looked at me, and its mouth opened a fraction. Then I heard it, the sound again. It was the cat's meow.

I went downstairs to the dining room, and peered out the window from there. Sure enough, I was met face-to-face with a cat. I didn't know what to do. I'm a sucker for animals.

I wasn't alone. The whole family was at home with me, but everyone was either sleeping or minding their own things. I went downstairs first, to where my brother's rooms were located. I went to my youngest brother, because he and I share an obvious fondness for creatures.

I called him up. I told him there was a cat in our backyard and that I didn't know what to do about it. I told him that it kept meowing. He ran upstairs and requested I show him, so I did.

Unexpectedly, he turned off the house alarm, opened the back door, and let the cat in.

So that was that. There was a stray cat prowling the premises of my home. It was a friendly cat. It was extremely open and affectionate.

I called my sister then, from her upstairs room (which was across from my room). I told her there was an urgent matter to attend. She wasn't one who'd get out of bed for anything, but she did that day eventually.

She freaked. She didn't seem to approve my brother's decision on letting the cat inside. I called my oldest brother then.

All four of us (my two brothers, my sister, and myself) were surrounding the cat. It took a lot of effort to lead it back outside. It was odd.

I stayed up even later that night, staring down from my window, and watching the cat's glowing eyes.

The next morning, my siblings and I consulted my parents. We told them about the cat who resided in our backyard. For three days, the cat was just outside. It had no food, no water, and God knows where the cat went to the washroom.

On the third day, we fed the cat chicken. The cat, as most could have guessed, rejected the chicken. We bought it a small bag of treats and fed it that for awhile.

After maybe two weeks, we were feeding it every so often. I remember going outside, and the cat would jump on my lap, as if routine. It was like that for maybe another two months. At the start of school, we were sure the former owners weren't coming back for it. We went to the animal clinic, and they said the cat was not yet registered. It was five years old, male, neutered.

Withing several days, we registered the cat as our own. We named it Skittles, as that was the name we dubbed it while it was living on our back deck. From then on, our family had a cat.

So the picture was a memory from before Skittles belonged to us. Point is, the picture had a story, a rather long story in this case. I'm almost positive, then, that every photo anyone owns will have a story along with it.

And what's more, how do people normally start these stories? Because I would normally go, "Oh, and this was when.." so on, so forth. Then tell me, how do you share your photo stories? Surely I'm not the only one who goes "this was when.."

For now, I bid my temporary farewell. Goodnight too!

Oh, I was thinking of doing something like this to promote future readers. At the end of every entry, I'll put a few verses from a song. If you are able to name the song title and the song's artist, I'll send you a reward! Either through a gift (wrapped in wrapping and ribbon) or through a trade (where I give you stuff and you don't give me any.) The reason for the trade is that there are certain items on Gaia that cannot be gifted. The problem with incorporating trades in rewards is that it's kind of like a back and forth thing: offer, agree, agree, accept, accept, send.

Anyways, first person to get this win? 4laugh

In my life, there's been heartache and pain! crying
I don't know if I can face it again. gonk
Can't stop now, I traveled so far confused
to change this lonely life...