That’s it, I’ve had enough. I try you know, I really do. “Keep writing,” people tell you “You’ll get somewhere eventually.” I try to give you thought provoking, entertaining pieces. I try to talk of profound things, I try to write eloquently with some sort of flair. I try to entertain, inform and other such noble things. I even wrote a good piece on the upcoming EU referendum.
A handful of likes that got. There’s only so much my ego can take!
So I thought I’d do some research into what people like when it comes to blog posts. I checked some guy’s out, he had a post that had garnered well over 267 likes. That’s a lot right?
It seems the global attention span has become a shrunken and shrivelled thing. Words are old news. It’s all about a collection of pictures of things isn’t it? But not natural pictures, it’s all about the filters.
So this week I sank to your level. Enjoy my pictures of things with filters.
Sad Dying Flowers, Which is a Bit Cliché but There’s a Filter.
2) Bane of My Life.
3) A Woman’s foot.
This one is very artistic. You see, the foot is oft sexualised (don’t know why, they’re the things you walk on so will naturally be the most disgusting), but this one is covered in an old and battered shoe. So it represents a long dead sense of subtlety and modesty. You can also just about see my knees, which means the woman’s foot is higher than mine. This can be seen in two ways 1) the dogmatic patriarchal nature of society (I’ve put my foot down!) or 2) an ode to uber-feminism in that ultimately the woman will stand higher than me, seeing as her foot is higher.
OR I accidentally took a picture without meaning to.
4) Addiction Will Never Die.
Many charities, health practitioners and the various police forces have done a lot of work to tackle drug crime and drug addiction. My leftist views aside (most drugs should probably be legalised and made available on the NHS), I can’t help but feel the scourge of addiction will never be washed away from this Earth. We humans are too damaged, too scared. We were born with holes in our hearts (metaphorical ones, I’m not talking about genetic conditions). These holes suck in everything and can never be filled. We will pour what we can into it. For me it’s coffee. This is what I see in front of my face most hours of the day. It’s expensive, as a desperate man I have resorted to mugging old ladies just to fund my habit.
When will the government turn their protective and vengeful gaze upon the coffee shops?
5) The Forgotten Spoon.
We are a wasteful society. An arrogant society, that takes what we want when we want it and when we no longer want it and can’t be bothered to carry it around any more we cast it aside, as if it meant nothing to us.
Cars, clothes, oil, our children… even this poor spoon.
Never again will it fulfil its purpose of scooping.
Once again my egotistical leg couldn’t stop itself from jumping in front of the lens.
6) Poetry Lives.
Pay at Meter
Pure poetry right there. I know what the sign maker meant. In many ways we are all paying at the meters of life, feeling the need or some sort of social pressure to display our tickets. Or maybe because we are constantly aware of the 24 hour CCTV watching us that makes us compelled to display them. Which in this instant is clearly meant to be the ever present eye of God.
7) My Lamp Shades Look Like Breasts.
Or I’m just sexually frustrated… which is entirely probable.
8) Work Poos are the Best Poos.
Notice how doing a Poo at work seems to induce a manic sort of joy within me. It’s the best part of the day. Sometimes I stuff myself with dried fruit and laxatives just so I can prolong the feeling. I hate the outside world so much that I find I gain an inordinate amount of comfort from the enclosed space.
From an artistic point of view, you can say how most of our day to day jobs are no different from this act.
9) I was once looking beardy in a pub.
So I filtered that son of a bitch and now it’s here.
There! Are you happy? Will this get me the recognition we all know I deserve! I DO! I REALLY FUCKING DO! WHERE’S MY LEGIONS OF FOLLOWERS?
The Fuzzy Rambler.