Living Like Seagulls

25 Oct 2018


In a world controlled by capitalism and the unjust hierarchy where the wealthy gets wealthier and the misfortunate continues to mourn, what does a free and spirited life means for me? I look at some of my online friends and how they’re able to rock this messy bed hair look, go out and just be the way they are without having to worry about whether or not they look good with or without makeup. Meanwhile, I’m here worrying about my fringe, my clothes, my shoes — everything.

There’s this inexplicable feelgood ‘thing’ about free spirited individuals that drives me to jealousy at times. How do you I expect myself to live the so-called free spirited, carefree life when I can’t even stand a strand of hair poking sideways. It's such a tough concept for me. How does one even think, "I don't care about how my hair looks today. If it's greasy, let it be greasy. If my eyebags are dark enough to swallow a spaceship colony then so be it. Hey look! I haven't washed my hair for three days!" I will never understand that kind of simple thinking.

I grew up with people calling me stiff. They say I'm too preppy for my own good. Personally, I like to think myself as a subtle perfectionist who'd constantly worry about whether or not my hair sits perfectly straight; the kind whose hands will immediately reach my fringe to comb it back to how it was before mother nature wrecks them mad. I'm that weirdo who'd count from one to ten in perfectly crisp pronounciation, the kind of person who'd sing the alphabet and say "L, M, N, O, P" and not "el-em-ent-oo-pee" in rush hour pace. 

To me, to be free spirited means to be young, wild and experimentally carefree. A free spirit is someone who simply doesn't give a damn because they just do what makes them happy. They don’t spend hours looking in the mirror wondering if their hair is perfectly straight, or if their eyebrows are drawn equally the same. I think that’s kind of brilliant, to live life like seagulls in the air.

Two days ago I picked up my analog camera again and somehow connected the idea of film photography with being carefree. For me, analog photography is more than just an old, classic (not to mention, expensive) hobby. It’s also a gamble with your instinct. To me, that’s such a bouyant way of doing something. You won’t know what kind of pictures you’ll get. In fact, you’ll even fail at some of them. This kind of blind guessing game isn’t something that sits quite well with me. But when the results are good, I feel good.

I’m weird, I know. This probably doesn’t make sense at all but at the same time, it does. I cleaned my old 35mm SLR and loaded an already expired film into my toy camera. I’m going to start taking pictures again, I told myself. I’m going to try and be a more carefree individual, point my camera and just, you know, click the shutter then hope for the best. If it doesn’t then I shall try again. By doing this, maybe I can let loose of myself a little and live life a little more adventurous. It’s not like I’m going to suddenly evolve into a jovial, optimistic dancing little elf or anything (it’s never in my extraordinarily cautious nature) but it’s probably nice to be able to fly like seagulls and take life a tiny bit less seriously.

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