Posts Tagged ‘passion’

I tend to collect tid-bits from the internet which sees my ‘Pictures’ folder ever-expanding (and my hard drive space ever decreasing!). So it’s only fair that I share these with you. (I will be including more on this post next time).

Just a side note: Thank you to every one who has commented so far!! It means a lot to me 🙂


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This photograph was taken by my friend when we roamed on the rocks that shape the end of the beach. It was a beautiful day.

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Why is it that one frantic run to the train in the morning can set off a chain reaction for the rest of the day?

Some people call it ‘getting out of the wrong side of bed’ but I liken it to a ball rolling down a hill, picking up speed until it falls off a cliff and blows up into smithereens. A little dramatic, but a good picture of a day I once experienced.

It started off with my exuberant rush to catch the train, and pick up two friends along the way. With two minutes to sprint up the ramp, buy our tickets and dart into the carriage it seemed an unlikely race against time. It didn’t help that my friends were the ‘get there early’ sort, for they don’t take too well to energetic bursts of a panicked dash towards closing doors. As it should happen, the cues at the ticket machine and booth were longer than usual, and I was indecisively hopping between the two lines in the hopes of picking the faster one. The train rolls up, and I’m waiting for that little piece of paper to shoot down and clang out of the machine as my friends watch on whilst boarding the train. Alas my ticket has come, I sprint to the doors and as I leap into the carriage the clink of coins spilling everywhere is heard by the amused strangers. As I look to the platform, the doors close in slow motion, with my hand straining out to catch the best lip-gloss I owned before it eventually fell through the cracks and out of reach. Sigh.

The train rattles along and I do my best to stop thinking about my now long-lost favourite lip-gloss.

As it so happens, numerous little hiccups continued for the rest of the day (I won’t bore you with ALL the details – otherwise this would turn into an essay). So I shall skip to the travel back home, at which point the sky had decided to open its doors.

With frazzled hair and heavy books I shuffled onto the railway platform and patiently waited for the next train. Thinking over the events of that day I began to softly, uncontrollably laugh; hence appearing like a maniac to those around me. My strategy? Pretending to read a funny text message. I am really not crazy.

I started to notice a guy glancing in my direction, with a confused expression on his face. Surely he must get to know me first, because that’s probably more confusing than my appearance!

Ignoring the strange looks I began to daydream, until I was rudely woken from my reverie to the vibrations of my phone ringing. Without thinking I answered with a loud “HELLO” and the aforementioned guy turned to me, lips parted about to answer before realising I was actually addressing my mobile and not himself. We both had a little laugh and awkward smile.

He ventured my way, before giving me the embarrassing news. I had smudges of black all over my face and he thought it polite to let me know! My face was probably all shades of red at that point. Trying to wipe it all off, he stood there quietly laughing at the situation and I thanked him for saving me from further embarrassment. As I looked down at my hands I realised they were also smudged; the black markings were from the ink on a newspaper that I had used to shelter myself from the rain. That was smart.

His train pulled up and we said goodbye to each other.  It was the end of a long and eventful day! When I got home, I chose between my only two options at that point: 1. To laugh hysterically for half an hour OR 2. To have a good cry.

I was on the brink, and I fell over to the side of (1). There is a reason why it’s called it ‘cracking up’.

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Taste of Red


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