from the camera roll


i took a really, really long walk through london after work last week, to clear my head. i'd had a particularly awful day at work, i'd had a banging headache, and i needed to just.. exist for a moment, without digital distraction, without human interaction, without any personalisation. just me and a podcast, and an absolutely gorgeous london evening. speaking of podcasts, i'm obsessed with true crime ones at the moment, and am jumping between criminal (though i absolutely haaaaate phoebe's voice to a point of frustration), this american life, in the dark (omg, curtis flowers!), and my favourite murder but if you have any suggestions that i can get on either spotify or google podcasts, please let me know!



i walked and snapped, and just generally looked at the world around me. this city of mine. the place i chose, and that took me in, all battered and bruised. i walked through fitzrovia, into soho, down through leicester square and into the throng of it. for once, i wasn't in a rush. i was walking at my own pace. i didn't let myself speed up; i didn't let myself be annoyed by people around me also walking slow; i smiled at children playing, and couples laughing, and tourists taking photos of the most mundane things. mundane. mundane? i mean.. i suppose that's super subjective. i'm quite sure that someone would look at my camera roll and think, why? what have you taken that picture for? what does that even mean to you? frankly, my photos mean everything to me.



they remind me of moments. of emotions. of specific memories made and stories told and lessons learned, and every one of them is important to me. so, if twenty selfies in front of the chinatown arches is what makes you happy, boo, you do you. who am i to judge? so anyway, i walked. i ended up at waterloo (from great portland street) about an hour later, and my feet had had enough by that point so i jumped on a train and tried to come home. there were more travel disruptions, of course, but the calming walk and moment to myself really helped me just.. be. be ok. be fine. be totally cool about the delay, and just, like.. carry on.



i take my life for granted, a lot, and i talk about taking my life for granted, a lot, but i rarely do anything about it. i take about 500 photos a week and then only share the ones here that relate to labels i classify myself under. food. london. travel. style. that's not all i'm about, though, and.. the less and less engagement this part of my life gets really make me question why i consistently put myself in these boxes, because, like.. maybe i don't actually fit in those boxes anymore? maybe i never did. what i know is that writing posts like this is what started it all, and what help me make sense of my chaos. they're not informative or educational or inspiring in any way. they offer you, the reader, nothing. nothing but a glimpse of what's going on in my head. my life. and i suppose.. that's good enough for me.