Uploads from sputnik sweetheart *

Uploads from sputnik sweetheart * http://www.flickr.com/photos/freeallangels/ Fri, 01 Mar 2013 22:38:55 -0800 Fri, 01 Mar 2013 22:38:55 -0800 http://www.flickr.com/ http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5260/buddyicons/41587803@N02.jpg?1331492429#41587803@N02 Uploads from sputnik sweetheart * http://www.flickr.com/photos/freeallangels/ Phantasmagoria http://www.flickr.com/photos/freeallangels/8520834728/ <p><a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/freeallangels/">sputnik sweetheart *</a> posted a photo:</p> <p><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/freeallangels/8520834728/" title="Phantasmagoria"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8246/8520834728_01b8fb917f_m.jpg" width="240" height="240" alt="Phantasmagoria" /></a></p> <p><i>As an introverted boy, Jason Bourne is nothing more than a speck of dust in Kayla Klaus’s fast-spinning world. Although Kayla is one of the very few people who know about the dark tragedy in Jason’s life, she never once shows her sympathy toward him. Envied yet adored by the whole school, Kayla is his antithesis in every way imaginable.But then, one night, something happens. Kayla approaches him out of the blue, and she shares the most magical story that Jason has never heard before. After hearing that story, strange things begin to take place. Jason and Kayla are about to embark on a journey that will change their lives forever.</i><br /> <br /> This excerpt is taken from my recently published novel, <i>Phantasmagoria</i>.<br /> <br /> Find out more about this book by ordering it <a href="http://www.bookdepository.co.uk/Phantasmagoria-Sky-Nakayama/9781479760886" rel="nofollow">here</a></p> Fri, 01 Mar 2013 22:38:55 -0800 2012-11-30T01:37:25-08:00 nobody@flickr.com (sputnik sweetheart *) tag:flickr.com,2004:/photo/8520834728 Phantasmagoria <p><i>As an introverted boy, Jason Bourne is nothing more than a speck of dust in Kayla Klaus’s fast-spinning world. Although Kayla is one of the very few people who know about the dark tragedy in Jason’s life, she never once shows her sympathy toward him. Envied yet adored by the whole school, Kayla is his antithesis in every way imaginable.But then, one night, something happens. Kayla approaches him out of the blue, and she shares the most magical story that Jason has never heard before. After hearing that story, strange things begin to take place. Jason and Kayla are about to embark on a journey that will change their lives forever.</i><br /> <br /> This excerpt is taken from my recently published novel, <i>Phantasmagoria</i>.<br /> <br /> Find out more about this book by ordering it <a href="http://www.bookdepository.co.uk/Phantasmagoria-Sky-Nakayama/9781479760886" rel="nofollow">here</a></p> sputnik sweetheart * 6x6 mediumformat excerpt filmphotography What They Talk When They Talk About Her http://www.flickr.com/photos/freeallangels/8257258115/ <p><a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/freeallangels/">sputnik sweetheart *</a> posted a photo:</p> <p><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/freeallangels/8257258115/" title="What They Talk When They Talk About Her"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8342/8257258115_a96327e6f4_m.jpg" width="240" height="227" alt="What They Talk When They Talk About Her" /></a></p> <p><i>Take me to the place where you go<br /> Where nobody knows if it's night or day<br /> Please don't put your life in the hands<br /> Of a Rock n Roll band<br /> Who'll throw it all away</i><br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> It was strange to see her playing with her cup of tea, because what she did was the reflection of what I did right in front of her.<br /> <br /> They say that, in this world, you have seven twins, scattered all over the world. They might share the same face with you. They might share the same birthday with you. They might be your opposite sex, but she or he is basically you.<br /> <br /> In my case, she and I shared the same birthday. But I had this unshakable belief that she and I shared more than that. <br /> <br /> Just now, I mentioned to her about this Oasis song I heard recently, and her reaction truly gave me goosebumps. Her reaction only showed me that this unshakable belief of mine could be right all along.<br /> <br /> "It's weird that you suddenly mentioned that song.” She gave me a wistful smile. “ I recently downloaded that song again, and I have been listening to it over and over again while I drive around."<br /> <br /> Dumbfounded, I fingered the birthday card she just gave me. Then I looked at the semblance of sadness in her eyes.<br /> <br /> One that she had been nursing behind her infectious laughter. One that had turned people into thinking that she was such an awful person.<br /> <br /> If they only knew the reason why she was what she was now.<br /> <br /> That night, I got a phone call from her. Her voice gave nothing away, but I knew that she was trying her best to stay strong in her own way.<br /> <br /> "I got another letter from home.” Her voice was surprisingly steady. “ You know what? I am all ready to pull off the plug, but then I remember what you said."<br /> <br /> I was immediately alert. When it came to someone so full of surprise like her, you could never know what she'd decide to do.<br /> <br /> "Which was?"<br /> <br /> "You told me not to kill myself after I gave you your birthday card. So I didn't."<br /> <br /> There she went again. Dropping such big news like it weighted nothing. I really wished I knew what to say, but at that time, I could only hold onto the receiver, silently wishing that she'd still stick into her plan after she hung up the phone. I was spellbound.<br /> <br /> “I’m not a monster,” she whispered. “<i>Sesangsaramdeu-ri nae-ge dollin deung modeun geo-shi bebekkoyeoit-deon nun-chorideul</i> (The people of the world have turned their backs against me, the corners of their eyes are all twisted up).”<br /> <br /> It was sad. Someone so young, being misunderstood by the world around her. It was sad, seeing how people thought they could put labels into whatever she did without knowing the real reason why she did what she did.<br /> <br /> It was sad because people had no idea about what they talk when they talk about her.<br /> <br /> I knew.<br /> I knew her.<br /> I knew what she had gone through.<br /> <br /> As she silently hung up the phone, I watched the sky turned light blue and I couldn't help but think that it would never look the same again if she was no longer around.</p> Sun, 09 Dec 2012 08:42:51 -0800 2012-10-16T00:49:42-08:00 nobody@flickr.com (sputnik sweetheart *) tag:flickr.com,2004:/photo/8257258115 What They Talk When They Talk About Her <p><i>Take me to the place where you go<br /> Where nobody knows if it's night or day<br /> Please don't put your life in the hands<br /> Of a Rock n Roll band<br /> Who'll throw it all away</i><br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> It was strange to see her playing with her cup of tea, because what she did was the reflection of what I did right in front of her.<br /> <br /> They say that, in this world, you have seven twins, scattered all over the world. They might share the same face with you. They might share the same birthday with you. They might be your opposite sex, but she or he is basically you.<br /> <br /> In my case, she and I shared the same birthday. But I had this unshakable belief that she and I shared more than that. <br /> <br /> Just now, I mentioned to her about this Oasis song I heard recently, and her reaction truly gave me goosebumps. Her reaction only showed me that this unshakable belief of mine could be right all along.<br /> <br /> "It's weird that you suddenly mentioned that song.” She gave me a wistful smile. “ I recently downloaded that song again, and I have been listening to it over and over again while I drive around."<br /> <br /> Dumbfounded, I fingered the birthday card she just gave me. Then I looked at the semblance of sadness in her eyes.<br /> <br /> One that she had been nursing behind her infectious laughter. One that had turned people into thinking that she was such an awful person.<br /> <br /> If they only knew the reason why she was what she was now.<br /> <br /> That night, I got a phone call from her. Her voice gave nothing away, but I knew that she was trying her best to stay strong in her own way.<br /> <br /> "I got another letter from home.” Her voice was surprisingly steady. “ You know what? I am all ready to pull off the plug, but then I remember what you said."<br /> <br /> I was immediately alert. When it came to someone so full of surprise like her, you could never know what she'd decide to do.<br /> <br /> "Which was?"<br /> <br /> "You told me not to kill myself after I gave you your birthday card. So I didn't."<br /> <br /> There she went again. Dropping such big news like it weighted nothing. I really wished I knew what to say, but at that time, I could only hold onto the receiver, silently wishing that she'd still stick into her plan after she hung up the phone. I was spellbound.<br /> <br /> “I’m not a monster,” she whispered. “<i>Sesangsaramdeu-ri nae-ge dollin deung modeun geo-shi bebekkoyeoit-deon nun-chorideul</i> (The people of the world have turned their backs against me, the corners of their eyes are all twisted up).”<br /> <br /> It was sad. Someone so young, being misunderstood by the world around her. It was sad, seeing how people thought they could put labels into whatever she did without knowing the real reason why she did what she did.<br /> <br /> It was sad because people had no idea about what they talk when they talk about her.<br /> <br /> I knew.<br /> I knew her.<br /> I knew what she had gone through.<br /> <br /> As she silently hung up the phone, I watched the sky turned light blue and I couldn't help but think that it would never look the same again if she was no longer around.</p> sputnik sweetheart * Blue Romance http://www.flickr.com/photos/freeallangels/8223714499/ <p><a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/freeallangels/">sputnik sweetheart *</a> posted a photo:</p> <p><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/freeallangels/8223714499/" title="Blue Romance"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8198/8223714499_94ff3be7d5_m.jpg" width="240" height="240" alt="Blue Romance" /></a></p> <p>Someone once told me that, if you're brave enough to say goodbye, life will reward you with another hello.<br /> <br /> As I watch him grins widely when he whines at me about the size of his birthday cake, there is a storm brewing in my heart.<br /> <br /> <i>How can I go through another day without seeing his silly grin?</i><br /> <br /> <i>Will my days ever return back to normalcy now that I've known someone like him is out there?</i><br /> <br /> Someone once told me that an end could be a start.<br /> <br /> But when you told me that you are sad too, when you told me that you also count the remains of our days together, my eyes are filled with tears.<br /> <br /> "What makes you happy?" he asks me, out of the blue.<br /> <br /> <i>Us</i>, I think secretly.<br /> <br /> But I never dare to answer.</p> Tue, 27 Nov 2012 09:43:28 -0800 2012-10-16T00:10:42-08:00 nobody@flickr.com (sputnik sweetheart *) tag:flickr.com,2004:/photo/8223714499 Blue Romance <p>Someone once told me that, if you're brave enough to say goodbye, life will reward you with another hello.<br /> <br /> As I watch him grins widely when he whines at me about the size of his birthday cake, there is a storm brewing in my heart.<br /> <br /> <i>How can I go through another day without seeing his silly grin?</i><br /> <br /> <i>Will my days ever return back to normalcy now that I've known someone like him is out there?</i><br /> <br /> Someone once told me that an end could be a start.<br /> <br /> But when you told me that you are sad too, when you told me that you also count the remains of our days together, my eyes are filled with tears.<br /> <br /> "What makes you happy?" he asks me, out of the blue.<br /> <br /> <i>Us</i>, I think secretly.<br /> <br /> But I never dare to answer.</p> sputnik sweetheart * 6x6 mediumformat tender asa100 fujivelvia hasselblad500cm aboutagirl blueromance Use Somebody http://www.flickr.com/photos/freeallangels/8113279968/ <p><a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/freeallangels/">sputnik sweetheart *</a> posted a photo:</p> <p><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/freeallangels/8113279968/" title="Use Somebody"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8044/8113279968_85e53b4b65_m.jpg" width="240" height="240" alt="Use Somebody" /></a></p> <p>He watches as she scuttles hurriedly from that fancy-looking French restaurant, her hands secured inside the pocket of her light little black dress. She looks around cautiously before taking a pack of Seven Star from her pocket and quickly she puts one in between her lips, only to discover that she forgot to buy a lighter earlier. Her frustrated sigh catches his attention. Without a word, he approaches her and offers to light up her cigarette. <br /> <br /> Up close, she smells incredible. A sweet, fresh mixture of pear and strawberry. Her lips are extra smooth, coated with lip gloss, creating a natural yet childish look to her overall look. <br /> <br /> "Thanks," she says after taking a long drag of cigarette.<br /> <br /> He smiles quietly. "You're not cold?" he asks politely. The rain has stopped thirty minutes ago, but it is still quite cold. He's amazed to see her barely shivers under her light, tasteful dress. "The weather is ice cold."<br /> <br /> She smiles, just barely, a brief, flitting thing before coolly turning her eyes towards him. "Only at first," she says. "After a while, you can barely feel anything."<br /> <br /> "Well, you must have come from a family of polar bear."<br /> <br /> She lifts her thin shoulder and takes another drag. "I can barely feel anything these days," she continues. "Not even the slightest emotion. I guess our relationship has finally taken its toll on me."<br /> <br /> "I'm sorry," he says sincerely. <br /> <br /> She waves her hand dismissively. "Don't be," she says. "You're not trapped in this relationship. So there's nothing to be sorry about."<br /> <br /> "If you're not happy, then why don't you leave?"<br /> <br /> "It's not that easy," she replies softly.<br /> <br /> "Sure it is. You can always run away with me."<br /> <br /> She turns around, her eyes wide. But then she notices the grin he has been trying to suppress, and she laughs wholeheartedly.<br /> <br /> "Why, pray tell, would you want to run away with someone you just met five minutes ago?" she asks, amused.<br /> <br /> "Well, I'd rather regret the things that I have done than the things that I have not done," he replies without taking his eyes away from her dark brown orbs.<br /> <br /> "You've got a point there." She smiles wistfully. Then, she crushes what is left from her cigarette with her killer heels. "Well, I better go back before someone calls the police. It was nice talking to you."<br /> <br /> "Laters," he says, touching the tip of his hat, as if he somehow knows that this is not going to be their last encounter.<br /> <br /> She laughs before turning her heels. Then, she bows slightly and whispers, "Laters."<br /> <br /> **<br /> <br /> "Don't worry, it's only one. I've made some progress," she says lightly as she returns back into her seat.<br /> <br /> He smiles indulgently at her. "Well, I don't mind. I'm just happy to see you again."<br /> <br /> She smiles back at him and pulls her chair in closer to the table. She leans her elbow on either side of her plate and smiles across at her husband. "Me too."<br /> <br /> "Why did you have to pretend you didn't notice me out there?" he inquires, his brows furrow.<br /> <br /> "Months could pass without me properly looking at you," she tells him. "I know you all too well to be a good judge of your face-value handsomeness. To judge how well you were wearing your years, I have to pretend that you are somebody that I don't already know."<br /> <br /> He goes a little red. He knows that she was doing one of her rare physical assessments of him earlier. Sometimes, it seems so hard to get through to her fast-spinning world he's afraid she might forget him. But she always knows how to make up for it. Her unique way of telling him that she actually cares always adds a special spark into their relationship, and that's one of the many rare qualities she possesses. One of the many things that makes him fall for her.<br /> <br /> "I love you, Sky Nakayama."<br /> <br /> "I love you too, Jeong Ji Hyun."</p> Mon, 22 Oct 2012 11:03:08 -0700 2012-04-14T10:31:22-08:00 nobody@flickr.com (sputnik sweetheart *) tag:flickr.com,2004:/photo/8113279968 Use Somebody <p>He watches as she scuttles hurriedly from that fancy-looking French restaurant, her hands secured inside the pocket of her light little black dress. She looks around cautiously before taking a pack of Seven Star from her pocket and quickly she puts one in between her lips, only to discover that she forgot to buy a lighter earlier. Her frustrated sigh catches his attention. Without a word, he approaches her and offers to light up her cigarette. <br /> <br /> Up close, she smells incredible. A sweet, fresh mixture of pear and strawberry. Her lips are extra smooth, coated with lip gloss, creating a natural yet childish look to her overall look. <br /> <br /> "Thanks," she says after taking a long drag of cigarette.<br /> <br /> He smiles quietly. "You're not cold?" he asks politely. The rain has stopped thirty minutes ago, but it is still quite cold. He's amazed to see her barely shivers under her light, tasteful dress. "The weather is ice cold."<br /> <br /> She smiles, just barely, a brief, flitting thing before coolly turning her eyes towards him. "Only at first," she says. "After a while, you can barely feel anything."<br /> <br /> "Well, you must have come from a family of polar bear."<br /> <br /> She lifts her thin shoulder and takes another drag. "I can barely feel anything these days," she continues. "Not even the slightest emotion. I guess our relationship has finally taken its toll on me."<br /> <br /> "I'm sorry," he says sincerely. <br /> <br /> She waves her hand dismissively. "Don't be," she says. "You're not trapped in this relationship. So there's nothing to be sorry about."<br /> <br /> "If you're not happy, then why don't you leave?"<br /> <br /> "It's not that easy," she replies softly.<br /> <br /> "Sure it is. You can always run away with me."<br /> <br /> She turns around, her eyes wide. But then she notices the grin he has been trying to suppress, and she laughs wholeheartedly.<br /> <br /> "Why, pray tell, would you want to run away with someone you just met five minutes ago?" she asks, amused.<br /> <br /> "Well, I'd rather regret the things that I have done than the things that I have not done," he replies without taking his eyes away from her dark brown orbs.<br /> <br /> "You've got a point there." She smiles wistfully. Then, she crushes what is left from her cigarette with her killer heels. "Well, I better go back before someone calls the police. It was nice talking to you."<br /> <br /> "Laters," he says, touching the tip of his hat, as if he somehow knows that this is not going to be their last encounter.<br /> <br /> She laughs before turning her heels. Then, she bows slightly and whispers, "Laters."<br /> <br /> **<br /> <br /> "Don't worry, it's only one. I've made some progress," she says lightly as she returns back into her seat.<br /> <br /> He smiles indulgently at her. "Well, I don't mind. I'm just happy to see you again."<br /> <br /> She smiles back at him and pulls her chair in closer to the table. She leans her elbow on either side of her plate and smiles across at her husband. "Me too."<br /> <br /> "Why did you have to pretend you didn't notice me out there?" he inquires, his brows furrow.<br /> <br /> "Months could pass without me properly looking at you," she tells him. "I know you all too well to be a good judge of your face-value handsomeness. To judge how well you were wearing your years, I have to pretend that you are somebody that I don't already know."<br /> <br /> He goes a little red. He knows that she was doing one of her rare physical assessments of him earlier. Sometimes, it seems so hard to get through to her fast-spinning world he's afraid she might forget him. But she always knows how to make up for it. Her unique way of telling him that she actually cares always adds a special spark into their relationship, and that's one of the many rare qualities she possesses. One of the many things that makes him fall for her.<br /> <br /> "I love you, Sky Nakayama."<br /> <br /> "I love you too, Jeong Ji Hyun."</p> sputnik sweetheart * 6x6 mediumformat ilfordhp5 romantic tender hasselblad500cm flashfiction aboutagirl Architecture of Happiness http://www.flickr.com/photos/freeallangels/8108725984/ <p><a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/freeallangels/">sputnik sweetheart *</a> posted a photo:</p> <p><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/freeallangels/8108725984/" title="Architecture of Happiness"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8194/8108725984_9c376e19a6_m.jpg" width="240" height="240" alt="Architecture of Happiness" /></a></p> <p><b>Home (noun): an environment offering affection and security</b><br /> <br /> "Excuse me, Miss," he said politely. He had a characteristically sluggish voice, like he had just woken up and his mouth was still dull and heavy. "Has the train arrived yet?"<br /> <br /> She turned around to find a tall, not so good looking twenty something male stood beside her. He was so tall, but he held that fact so gracefully she found it somewhat attractive. If she wasn't so preoccupied with the fact that she was about to head home to Toyohashi, she would consider asking his name.<br /> <br /> "If the train has arrived, why would I stand here?" she replied sarcastically, peeling off her eyes from him.<br /> <br /> He smiled, as though he wasn't offended at all by the way she spoke to him. "Thank you for the information."<br /> <br /> She dismissed him with a glance, but something about him made her held back. Maybe it was the easy air that surrounded him. Maybe it was the way he gingerly folded his long limbs as he took a seat by her side as the train finally left the station. She wasn't so sure. Yet.<br /> <br /> She sighed heavily as she leaned over towards the window, trying her best not to steal another glance at him. He seemed to notice the burden she was carrying, but said nothing. <br /> <br /> "Want some?" he asked, extending his arm towards her. He was offering her a bag full of colorful candy. Which she found very amusing, because he actually reminded her of a bag of sweets.<br /> <br /> "Not a big fan of sugary stuff, but thanks," she said. This time, she decided to lose her sarcastic tone. It wasn't his fault that going home was such a difficult thing to do for her. He didn't deserve to be her punchbag. <br /> <br /> "Must be good to finally go home after such a long, tiring day," he said as he chewed his candy. The air was suddenly filled with strawberry fragrance. <br /> <br /> Home. Why did it sound so alien in her ear? Every time she pictured home, she was constantly reminded of an endless ennui. Home was a place where she was rejected for being who she was. Home was a place where everyone looked at her with obvious disrespect in their eyes as they whispered 'failure' wherever she went. Home was a place where she was forced to be who her mother wanted to be and she had no chance to say 'no' because it would only make her mother screamed in agony about how much pain she had caused her.<br /> <br /> "The notion of what home actually is makes me nauseous," she suddenly said. "It's an overstatement when people say that home offers you safety and warmth. If you want safety, go live in the police station. If you want warmth, well just turn on the heater."<br /> <br /> He turned around to face her and smiled. He had no reason to be nice to her after the way she'd treated him, but he didn't hold it against him. "I take it you haven't found your home yet."<br /> <br /> She laughed bitterly. "Home is where I have to be what my mother decides me to be. It feels as though I'm living two lives, where in one life I am her puppet, and where in the other life I'm a struggling actress. Ironically, I actually never stop acting in both lives. Come to think about it, my life <i>is</i> a sad, pathetic movie where I never fit in."<br /> <br /> "Well," he said, putting another piece of candy in his mouth. "I know I'm not exactly in a place to say 'don't say that', but since there is no elegant way to put it, I will still say it. So, don't say that. Don't think less about yourself."<br /> <br /> She scoffed. "It's easy for you to say that," she retorted. "You're not in my shoes."<br /> <br /> "I know," he replied softly. "But I happen to know that most people make home in another place, too. You can always shift the notion of home, you know. You might not be able to change what people think about you, but you can always change the way you see your life. It's your life. Stop thinking that you're bothering the person next to you."<br /> <br /> As he finished his sentence, the train came into a stop. She had arrived in her initial destination, but somehow she didn't want to leave just yet because in an instant, the notion of home for her had shifted. <br /> <br /> "You're getting off here?" he asked as he prepared to make a way for her.<br /> <br /> She could hardly believe what came out of her mouth the next second. But she knew that this was more than a typical kind of thing. She just <i>knew</i> she couldn't miss this one out.<br /> <br /> "No," she said, shaking her head. "I'm not home yet."</p> Sun, 21 Oct 2012 08:00:52 -0700 2012-10-16T02:04:19-08:00 nobody@flickr.com (sputnik sweetheart *) tag:flickr.com,2004:/photo/8108725984 Architecture of Happiness <p><b>Home (noun): an environment offering affection and security</b><br /> <br /> "Excuse me, Miss," he said politely. He had a characteristically sluggish voice, like he had just woken up and his mouth was still dull and heavy. "Has the train arrived yet?"<br /> <br /> She turned around to find a tall, not so good looking twenty something male stood beside her. He was so tall, but he held that fact so gracefully she found it somewhat attractive. If she wasn't so preoccupied with the fact that she was about to head home to Toyohashi, she would consider asking his name.<br /> <br /> "If the train has arrived, why would I stand here?" she replied sarcastically, peeling off her eyes from him.<br /> <br /> He smiled, as though he wasn't offended at all by the way she spoke to him. "Thank you for the information."<br /> <br /> She dismissed him with a glance, but something about him made her held back. Maybe it was the easy air that surrounded him. Maybe it was the way he gingerly folded his long limbs as he took a seat by her side as the train finally left the station. She wasn't so sure. Yet.<br /> <br /> She sighed heavily as she leaned over towards the window, trying her best not to steal another glance at him. He seemed to notice the burden she was carrying, but said nothing. <br /> <br /> "Want some?" he asked, extending his arm towards her. He was offering her a bag full of colorful candy. Which she found very amusing, because he actually reminded her of a bag of sweets.<br /> <br /> "Not a big fan of sugary stuff, but thanks," she said. This time, she decided to lose her sarcastic tone. It wasn't his fault that going home was such a difficult thing to do for her. He didn't deserve to be her punchbag. <br /> <br /> "Must be good to finally go home after such a long, tiring day," he said as he chewed his candy. The air was suddenly filled with strawberry fragrance. <br /> <br /> Home. Why did it sound so alien in her ear? Every time she pictured home, she was constantly reminded of an endless ennui. Home was a place where she was rejected for being who she was. Home was a place where everyone looked at her with obvious disrespect in their eyes as they whispered 'failure' wherever she went. Home was a place where she was forced to be who her mother wanted to be and she had no chance to say 'no' because it would only make her mother screamed in agony about how much pain she had caused her.<br /> <br /> "The notion of what home actually is makes me nauseous," she suddenly said. "It's an overstatement when people say that home offers you safety and warmth. If you want safety, go live in the police station. If you want warmth, well just turn on the heater."<br /> <br /> He turned around to face her and smiled. He had no reason to be nice to her after the way she'd treated him, but he didn't hold it against him. "I take it you haven't found your home yet."<br /> <br /> She laughed bitterly. "Home is where I have to be what my mother decides me to be. It feels as though I'm living two lives, where in one life I am her puppet, and where in the other life I'm a struggling actress. Ironically, I actually never stop acting in both lives. Come to think about it, my life <i>is</i> a sad, pathetic movie where I never fit in."<br /> <br /> "Well," he said, putting another piece of candy in his mouth. "I know I'm not exactly in a place to say 'don't say that', but since there is no elegant way to put it, I will still say it. So, don't say that. Don't think less about yourself."<br /> <br /> She scoffed. "It's easy for you to say that," she retorted. "You're not in my shoes."<br /> <br /> "I know," he replied softly. "But I happen to know that most people make home in another place, too. You can always shift the notion of home, you know. You might not be able to change what people think about you, but you can always change the way you see your life. It's your life. Stop thinking that you're bothering the person next to you."<br /> <br /> As he finished his sentence, the train came into a stop. She had arrived in her initial destination, but somehow she didn't want to leave just yet because in an instant, the notion of home for her had shifted. <br /> <br /> "You're getting off here?" he asked as he prepared to make a way for her.<br /> <br /> She could hardly believe what came out of her mouth the next second. But she knew that this was more than a typical kind of thing. She just <i>knew</i> she couldn't miss this one out.<br /> <br /> "No," she said, shaking her head. "I'm not home yet."</p> sputnik sweetheart * 6x6 mediumformat thoughts hasselblad500cm flashfiction aboutagirl A Movie Script Ending http://www.flickr.com/photos/freeallangels/8100540790/ <p><a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/freeallangels/">sputnik sweetheart *</a> posted a photo:</p> <p><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/freeallangels/8100540790/" title="A Movie Script Ending"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8326/8100540790_19508d4473_m.jpg" width="240" height="240" alt="A Movie Script Ending" /></a></p> <p>I truly believe that in every girl’s life, there is that one golden summer where boys are finally looking back at you and you’re looking back. That moment in time when everything is right on the verge of happening; midnight talks and first love and longing, and the heartbreak that inevitably follows. This summer, I somehow have a strong belief that things are about to change between me and him. I don’t know how. I just know that this summer will be different.<br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> “Do you want to continue?”<br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> I turn my head around to face him. He looks a little bit tired. There’s a black circle under his eyes, and it’s enough for me to know that he hasn't been sleeping well lately. I am pretty sure that the reason why he hasn’t been sleeping well is not because of the job he started taking at the beginning of the summer in Le Noir, the only cinema in Fukuoka that still runs celluloid, black and white movies. Trust me, I am no supernatural. But I know that I cannot be wrong. Not when it comes to Kaio Tetsuya.<br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> I always have a thing for old, black and white movies. I love all the old black-and-white noir thrillers with their damsels in distress and their low camera angles. But more than that, I love coming to Le Noir because it is the place where I connected with Tetsu for the first time five years ago. I still remember that day like it was yesterday. How he impressed me with the way he connected two completely unrelated things that I can never make much sense out of. I like the way he sees life. I like the way he laughes when I throw the wrong punch-line. I like the way he tears off the straw wrapper for my drink. I like every single thing about him. <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> “Ni nyu pengyou ma?” I ask about how his girlfriend is in fluent Mandarin. I am not big in mastering other languages, but I am big in admiring Tetsu-chan. Always have, always will. So, when he suddenly decided to learn Mandarin to impress Angela Chew — the girl who transferred to my school from Beijing last autumn — I caught the fever too. It took two years for me before we got into first name basis. It only took one glance for Angela to steal Tetsu’s heart.<br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> Don’t get me wrong. I don’t hate Angela. She’s a really nice girl, and honestly they are totally, utterly perfect together. But I still don’t understand why, and how she did that. I have been pining after Tetsu forever, yet he barely recognizes me. So, when Angela announced that she would be spending her summer holiday in Shanghai, I couldn’t help but wish that somehow Tetsu would finally see right through me. Me, the girl who loves him with all my heart. Me, the girl whose fifteen year old heart screams why every night before I drift off to sleep. Why can’t you see me, Tetsu? What does she have that I don’t?<br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> “No way,” he whines. “Why does your Mandarin sound much better than mine? It’s not fair! You should teach me.”<br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> I laugh. “Sure, if only you could drag your lazy bum from the couch.”<br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> “You know,” Tetsu says as he casually leans his head on my shoulder. “I’m glad you’re around this summer.”<br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> Aren’t I, always? But I decide not to point that fact out loud. I don’t see the reason why I have to force him to realize that I’m always here. It’s just plainly embarassing, especially since he is still tied up to Angela. <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> Suddenly, Tetsu looks me in the eye. This is the first time he makes a long amount of eye contact with me, allowing me to see his light brown orbs clearly for the first time. Then he smiles, nods his head, goes up to my ear, and whispers.<br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> “You’re alright.”</p> Thu, 18 Oct 2012 11:20:37 -0700 2012-10-16T02:15:26-08:00 nobody@flickr.com (sputnik sweetheart *) tag:flickr.com,2004:/photo/8100540790 A Movie Script Ending <p>I truly believe that in every girl’s life, there is that one golden summer where boys are finally looking back at you and you’re looking back. That moment in time when everything is right on the verge of happening; midnight talks and first love and longing, and the heartbreak that inevitably follows. This summer, I somehow have a strong belief that things are about to change between me and him. I don’t know how. I just know that this summer will be different.<br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> “Do you want to continue?”<br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> I turn my head around to face him. He looks a little bit tired. There’s a black circle under his eyes, and it’s enough for me to know that he hasn't been sleeping well lately. I am pretty sure that the reason why he hasn’t been sleeping well is not because of the job he started taking at the beginning of the summer in Le Noir, the only cinema in Fukuoka that still runs celluloid, black and white movies. Trust me, I am no supernatural. But I know that I cannot be wrong. Not when it comes to Kaio Tetsuya.<br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> I always have a thing for old, black and white movies. I love all the old black-and-white noir thrillers with their damsels in distress and their low camera angles. But more than that, I love coming to Le Noir because it is the place where I connected with Tetsu for the first time five years ago. I still remember that day like it was yesterday. How he impressed me with the way he connected two completely unrelated things that I can never make much sense out of. I like the way he sees life. I like the way he laughes when I throw the wrong punch-line. I like the way he tears off the straw wrapper for my drink. I like every single thing about him. <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> “Ni nyu pengyou ma?” I ask about how his girlfriend is in fluent Mandarin. I am not big in mastering other languages, but I am big in admiring Tetsu-chan. Always have, always will. So, when he suddenly decided to learn Mandarin to impress Angela Chew — the girl who transferred to my school from Beijing last autumn — I caught the fever too. It took two years for me before we got into first name basis. It only took one glance for Angela to steal Tetsu’s heart.<br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> Don’t get me wrong. I don’t hate Angela. She’s a really nice girl, and honestly they are totally, utterly perfect together. But I still don’t understand why, and how she did that. I have been pining after Tetsu forever, yet he barely recognizes me. So, when Angela announced that she would be spending her summer holiday in Shanghai, I couldn’t help but wish that somehow Tetsu would finally see right through me. Me, the girl who loves him with all my heart. Me, the girl whose fifteen year old heart screams why every night before I drift off to sleep. Why can’t you see me, Tetsu? What does she have that I don’t?<br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> “No way,” he whines. “Why does your Mandarin sound much better than mine? It’s not fair! You should teach me.”<br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> I laugh. “Sure, if only you could drag your lazy bum from the couch.”<br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> “You know,” Tetsu says as he casually leans his head on my shoulder. “I’m glad you’re around this summer.”<br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> Aren’t I, always? But I decide not to point that fact out loud. I don’t see the reason why I have to force him to realize that I’m always here. It’s just plainly embarassing, especially since he is still tied up to Angela. <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> Suddenly, Tetsu looks me in the eye. This is the first time he makes a long amount of eye contact with me, allowing me to see his light brown orbs clearly for the first time. Then he smiles, nods his head, goes up to my ear, and whispers.<br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> “You’re alright.”</p> sputnik sweetheart * 6x6 mediumformat brokenhearted witchinghour flashfiction aboutagirl hasselbad500cm sometimesthewayyouactmakesmewonderwhatamitoyou One Sweet Day http://www.flickr.com/photos/freeallangels/8093247261/ <p><a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/freeallangels/">sputnik sweetheart *</a> posted a photo:</p> <p><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/freeallangels/8093247261/" title="One Sweet Day"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8464/8093247261_1300020b5b_m.jpg" width="240" height="230" alt="One Sweet Day" /></a></p> <p>"The popcorn tastes a little different here," he says slowly, as if he's testing every single word to make sure that he has said everything with the most perfect pronunciation. Then he grins boyishly at her. "Did I say it right?"<br /> <br /> She nods, then shakes her head, making her silky jet black hair flies around her lovely face. "You're very adamant in learning Japanese, huh?"<br /> <br /> "Of course. That's the reason why I come here. To become fluent in Japanese," he says seriously, but his loop-sided grin betrays his attempt to look serious and it only makes her laughs. "Why are you laughing?" he asks, taking the popcorn away from her.<br /> <br /> She doesn't seem to bother because she is too busy laughing until tears start brimming in her eyes. "You're funny, Oppa," she says in between her laughter.<br /> <br /> He grins again. Unconsciously, he reaches over to touch the corner of her left eyes. "You surely look like a Korean girl. Are you sure we don't share the same root?"<br /> <br /> "No," she says. "It's Chuseok Day. Maybe you simply miss your home, and your mind starts playing tricks on you."<br /> <br /> "What kind of trick?" he asks, bemused.<br /> <br /> "Give me back my popcorn and I'll tell you," she says, extending her arm toward him.<br /> <br /> "You two, can you keep it down?" An elderly woman who sits next to them snaps, clearly annoyed because their conversation is way too loud. "It's a cinema. If you two want to pour your heart out, go to a coffee shop."<br /> <br /> They both exchange an amused glance, and on a cue they start laughing together, automatically pisses the elderly woman even more. Knowing that they cannot control their laughter, they finally decide to leave the cinema. But unfortunately, it is raining cats and dogs and none of them brings an umbrella.<br /> <br /> "Tell me something," she whispers as she trains her eyes to the darkening sky above their head.<br /> <br /> He turns his head toward a petite figure by his side. She is so tiny, and she looks like a schoolgirl when she stands beside his towering figure. The rain has brought color to her cheek, and he momentarily thinks what it feels like to kiss her blushing cheek.<br /> <br /> "Why did you walk over to me just now?"<br /> <br /> "Because you stood alone in the front line and because I was too lazy to queue," he replies, although they both know it's not true.<br /> <br /> Her face falls. "That's it? You approached me because I was standing in the front line? You just wanted to avoid the queue?"<br /> <br /> <i>Would it be tacky if I said that she has bewitched me? Hell,I have only known her for two hours.</i><br /> <br /> "You said yourself that mostly Koreans don't really like Japanese," she repeats his words innocently. "So why me?"<br /> <br /> "Maybe it's because today is Chuseok Day and I forgot to call home and my mother yelled at me because of that," he answers, and she rewards him with a shocked expression.<br /> <br /> "You forgot to call home?"<br /> <br /> <i>I got distracted,</i> he says to himself. Too bad his plane leaves in a couple more hours. Why, pray tell, he has to meet this amazing girl on his last day in Japan? In a few hours, he'll be back to Seoul, then to San Francisco. When will he see her again?<br /> <br /> "Listen," he says as the thunder breaks free on top of their head.. "Can you do me a favor?"<br /> <br /> She frowns. "I already did."<br /> <br /> He laughs. "I know. Just one more favor."<br /> <br /> She bits her lower lip as she stares at him with open curiosity. Reluctantly, she nods.<br /> <br /> He tries hard not to breathe a sign of relief in front of her. "Do you have a pen or something?"<br /> <br /> She shakes her head immediately. "No, only got some cash in my pocket. No cellphone either."<br /> <br /> He frowns. <br /> <br /> She lifts her shoulder. "It's a harvest celebration, and I have nobody to celebrate it with. I don't want to spend it staring at my phone, wishing someone would call me."<br /> <br /> "So here we are, eh? Two lonely souls wandering around in Osaka."<br /> <br /> "You can say that," she giggles, as though the fact that she is completely alone in this festive day doesn't bother her. But the tiny sadness in her beautiful orbs tells him that it's just an act. She doesn't want to be alone, but she tries her best to deal with the fact that she <i>is</i> alone.<br /> <br /> "Can I have your number? Pretty please?" he asks, making her laughs again.<br /> <br /> "Why? You'll be back in Seoul soon. You sure you want to keep in touch with someone you just met on your last day in Japan?"<br /> <br /> He smiles without saying anything. <i>Lady, I know what I want, and I want you all to myself. If only you knew how you've smitten me</i>.<br /> <br /> "Please?"<br /> <br /> She sighs. "Well, okay then. Do you have your phone with you?"<br /> <br /> They exchange a brief but intense glance after she gave him her number. <br /> <br /> Suddenly, he leans forwad and whispers a single word in her ear.<br /> <br /> "<i>Jomangan</i>."<br /> <br /> Then, he lands a quick kiss on her cheek before he disappears into the thick curtain of fog.<br /> <br /> Like a dream<br /> <br /> ***</p> Tue, 16 Oct 2012 03:07:55 -0700 2012-10-16T01:02:27-08:00 nobody@flickr.com (sputnik sweetheart *) tag:flickr.com,2004:/photo/8093247261 One Sweet Day <p>"The popcorn tastes a little different here," he says slowly, as if he's testing every single word to make sure that he has said everything with the most perfect pronunciation. Then he grins boyishly at her. "Did I say it right?"<br /> <br /> She nods, then shakes her head, making her silky jet black hair flies around her lovely face. "You're very adamant in learning Japanese, huh?"<br /> <br /> "Of course. That's the reason why I come here. To become fluent in Japanese," he says seriously, but his loop-sided grin betrays his attempt to look serious and it only makes her laughs. "Why are you laughing?" he asks, taking the popcorn away from her.<br /> <br /> She doesn't seem to bother because she is too busy laughing until tears start brimming in her eyes. "You're funny, Oppa," she says in between her laughter.<br /> <br /> He grins again. Unconsciously, he reaches over to touch the corner of her left eyes. "You surely look like a Korean girl. Are you sure we don't share the same root?"<br /> <br /> "No," she says. "It's Chuseok Day. Maybe you simply miss your home, and your mind starts playing tricks on you."<br /> <br /> "What kind of trick?" he asks, bemused.<br /> <br /> "Give me back my popcorn and I'll tell you," she says, extending her arm toward him.<br /> <br /> "You two, can you keep it down?" An elderly woman who sits next to them snaps, clearly annoyed because their conversation is way too loud. "It's a cinema. If you two want to pour your heart out, go to a coffee shop."<br /> <br /> They both exchange an amused glance, and on a cue they start laughing together, automatically pisses the elderly woman even more. Knowing that they cannot control their laughter, they finally decide to leave the cinema. But unfortunately, it is raining cats and dogs and none of them brings an umbrella.<br /> <br /> "Tell me something," she whispers as she trains her eyes to the darkening sky above their head.<br /> <br /> He turns his head toward a petite figure by his side. She is so tiny, and she looks like a schoolgirl when she stands beside his towering figure. The rain has brought color to her cheek, and he momentarily thinks what it feels like to kiss her blushing cheek.<br /> <br /> "Why did you walk over to me just now?"<br /> <br /> "Because you stood alone in the front line and because I was too lazy to queue," he replies, although they both know it's not true.<br /> <br /> Her face falls. "That's it? You approached me because I was standing in the front line? You just wanted to avoid the queue?"<br /> <br /> <i>Would it be tacky if I said that she has bewitched me? Hell,I have only known her for two hours.</i><br /> <br /> "You said yourself that mostly Koreans don't really like Japanese," she repeats his words innocently. "So why me?"<br /> <br /> "Maybe it's because today is Chuseok Day and I forgot to call home and my mother yelled at me because of that," he answers, and she rewards him with a shocked expression.<br /> <br /> "You forgot to call home?"<br /> <br /> <i>I got distracted,</i> he says to himself. Too bad his plane leaves in a couple more hours. Why, pray tell, he has to meet this amazing girl on his last day in Japan? In a few hours, he'll be back to Seoul, then to San Francisco. When will he see her again?<br /> <br /> "Listen," he says as the thunder breaks free on top of their head.. "Can you do me a favor?"<br /> <br /> She frowns. "I already did."<br /> <br /> He laughs. "I know. Just one more favor."<br /> <br /> She bits her lower lip as she stares at him with open curiosity. Reluctantly, she nods.<br /> <br /> He tries hard not to breathe a sign of relief in front of her. "Do you have a pen or something?"<br /> <br /> She shakes her head immediately. "No, only got some cash in my pocket. No cellphone either."<br /> <br /> He frowns. <br /> <br /> She lifts her shoulder. "It's a harvest celebration, and I have nobody to celebrate it with. I don't want to spend it staring at my phone, wishing someone would call me."<br /> <br /> "So here we are, eh? Two lonely souls wandering around in Osaka."<br /> <br /> "You can say that," she giggles, as though the fact that she is completely alone in this festive day doesn't bother her. But the tiny sadness in her beautiful orbs tells him that it's just an act. She doesn't want to be alone, but she tries her best to deal with the fact that she <i>is</i> alone.<br /> <br /> "Can I have your number? Pretty please?" he asks, making her laughs again.<br /> <br /> "Why? You'll be back in Seoul soon. You sure you want to keep in touch with someone you just met on your last day in Japan?"<br /> <br /> He smiles without saying anything. <i>Lady, I know what I want, and I want you all to myself. If only you knew how you've smitten me</i>.<br /> <br /> "Please?"<br /> <br /> She sighs. "Well, okay then. Do you have your phone with you?"<br /> <br /> They exchange a brief but intense glance after she gave him her number. <br /> <br /> Suddenly, he leans forwad and whispers a single word in her ear.<br /> <br /> "<i>Jomangan</i>."<br /> <br /> Then, he lands a quick kiss on her cheek before he disappears into the thick curtain of fog.<br /> <br /> Like a dream<br /> <br /> ***</p> sputnik sweetheart * fiction 6x6 mediumformat hasselblad500cm aboutagirl A woman's worth http://www.flickr.com/photos/freeallangels/8090953170/ <p><a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/freeallangels/">sputnik sweetheart *</a> posted a photo:</p> <p><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/freeallangels/8090953170/" title="A woman's worth"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8048/8090953170_d3c5a8708c_m.jpg" width="240" height="240" alt="A woman's worth" /></a></p> <p>"If you're willing to understand her ups and downs, then you would know that she makes one of the best partners a person can have.<br /> <br /> But if you're not willing to do so, then feel free to watch her walk away from your life."</p> Mon, 15 Oct 2012 10:47:13 -0700 2012-10-16T04:26:25-08:00 nobody@flickr.com (sputnik sweetheart *) tag:flickr.com,2004:/photo/8090953170 A woman's worth <p>"If you're willing to understand her ups and downs, then you would know that she makes one of the best partners a person can have.<br /> <br /> But if you're not willing to do so, then feel free to watch her walk away from your life."</p> sputnik sweetheart * 6x6 mediumformat romantic ennui moods tender melancholia hasselblad500cm aboutagirl Phoenix http://www.flickr.com/photos/freeallangels/8090589231/ <p><a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/freeallangels/">sputnik sweetheart *</a> posted a photo:</p> <p><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/freeallangels/8090589231/" title="Phoenix"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8049/8090589231_08db9f1775_m.jpg" width="240" height="240" alt="Phoenix" /></a></p> <p><br /> "When a woman rises up in glory, her energy is magnetic and her sense of possibility is contagious." <br /> — Marianne Williamson<br /> <br /> After twenty four years, I walked back to discover the root of my heritage. It was a life-changing journey that brought tears of happiness and a strong pang of nostalgia at the same time.<br /> <br /> Let's see how the journey roll.</p> Mon, 15 Oct 2012 08:55:04 -0700 2012-10-16T00:25:30-08:00 nobody@flickr.com (sputnik sweetheart *) tag:flickr.com,2004:/photo/8090589231 Phoenix <p><br /> "When a woman rises up in glory, her energy is magnetic and her sense of possibility is contagious." <br /> — Marianne Williamson<br /> <br /> After twenty four years, I walked back to discover the root of my heritage. It was a life-changing journey that brought tears of happiness and a strong pang of nostalgia at the same time.<br /> <br /> Let's see how the journey roll.</p> sputnik sweetheart * 6x6 mediumformat cm ilfordhp5 500 hasseblad aboutagirl monochromeselfportrait The one that got away http://www.flickr.com/photos/freeallangels/7914276170/ <p><a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/freeallangels/">sputnik sweetheart *</a> posted a photo:</p> <p><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/freeallangels/7914276170/" title="The one that got away"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8174/7914276170_3bc81ff5f1_m.jpg" width="240" height="238" alt="The one that got away" /></a></p> <p>Now he knows that he's not<br /> all that she got, he guesses that he — he just thought —<br /> maybe they could find new ways to fall apart. But their friends are back, and he sees some random guy asking her about her scar — the one he gave her months ago — and he knows that he has wasted his final chance.<br /> So let’s raise a toast, ‘cause he found no one to carry him home tonight.<br /> <br /> <i>Oh well,</i> he thinks ominously, <i>what was the point of my life at all if I was spending it in bed with an unknown companion?</i></p> Sun, 02 Sep 2012 09:02:34 -0700 2011-11-25T00:46:00-08:00 nobody@flickr.com (sputnik sweetheart *) tag:flickr.com,2004:/photo/7914276170 The one that got away <p>Now he knows that he's not<br /> all that she got, he guesses that he — he just thought —<br /> maybe they could find new ways to fall apart. But their friends are back, and he sees some random guy asking her about her scar — the one he gave her months ago — and he knows that he has wasted his final chance.<br /> So let’s raise a toast, ‘cause he found no one to carry him home tonight.<br /> <br /> <i>Oh well,</i> he thinks ominously, <i>what was the point of my life at all if I was spending it in bed with an unknown companion?</i></p> sputnik sweetheart * 6x6 mediumformat ilfordhp5 filmnoir lovelost hasselblad500cm aboutagirl weareyoungfun five spots after dark http://www.flickr.com/photos/freeallangels/7913772032/ <p><a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/freeallangels/">sputnik sweetheart *</a> posted a photo:</p> <p><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/freeallangels/7913772032/" title="five spots after dark"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8320/7913772032_a0781e0154_m.jpg" width="240" height="240" alt="five spots after dark" /></a></p> <p>Love was an idea. If you lost the idea, if you somehow forgot it, the person you loved became a stranger .</p> Sun, 02 Sep 2012 07:42:04 -0700 2012-09-03T00:33:34-08:00 nobody@flickr.com (sputnik sweetheart *) tag:flickr.com,2004:/photo/7913772032 five spots after dark <p>Love was an idea. If you lost the idea, if you somehow forgot it, the person you loved became a stranger .</p> sputnik sweetheart * 6x6 film mediumformat ilfordhp5 afterdark filmnoir lovelost hasselblad500cm aboutagirl Understanding is but the sum of our misunderstanding http://www.flickr.com/photos/freeallangels/7560947998/ <p><a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/freeallangels/">sputnik sweetheart *</a> posted a photo:</p> <p><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/freeallangels/7560947998/" title="Understanding is but the sum of our misunderstanding"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7118/7560947998_303d66f208_m.jpg" width="240" height="240" alt="Understanding is but the sum of our misunderstanding" /></a></p> <p>People are like Russia: a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma bigger than what you'd imagine. And each of them is hardwired to dip a toe into the dark side of our psyches</p> Fri, 13 Jul 2012 02:32:02 -0700 2012-04-09T00:33:16-08:00 nobody@flickr.com (sputnik sweetheart *) tag:flickr.com,2004:/photo/7560947998 Understanding is but the sum of our misunderstanding <p>People are like Russia: a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma bigger than what you'd imagine. And each of them is hardwired to dip a toe into the dark side of our psyches</p> sputnik sweetheart * 6x6 ilfordhp5 hasselblad500cm lifeinmono aboutagirl * http://www.flickr.com/photos/freeallangels/7560882108/ <p><a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/freeallangels/">sputnik sweetheart *</a> posted a photo:</p> <p><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/freeallangels/7560882108/" title="*"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7270/7560882108_995e8a2e9b_m.jpg" width="240" height="240" alt="*" /></a></p> <p>Millions of people in this world, all of them yearning, looking to others to satisfy them, yet isolating themselves. Why?</p> Fri, 13 Jul 2012 02:11:12 -0700 2012-04-14T11:01:46-08:00 nobody@flickr.com (sputnik sweetheart *) tag:flickr.com,2004:/photo/7560882108 * <p>Millions of people in this world, all of them yearning, looking to others to satisfy them, yet isolating themselves. Why?</p> sputnik sweetheart * 6x6 ilfordhp5 squareformat asa400 hasselblad500cm aquestionwithoutananswer You're original, cannot be replaced http://www.flickr.com/photos/freeallangels/7427352446/ <p><a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/freeallangels/">sputnik sweetheart *</a> posted a photo:</p> <p><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/freeallangels/7427352446/" title="You're original, cannot be replaced"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8019/7427352446_e32d27914f_m.jpg" width="240" height="240" alt="You're original, cannot be replaced" /></a></p> <p>24.06.2012<br /> <br /> I have spent one year to another feeling insecure, misfit, and scared of being rejected. I have spent years feeling not good enough. I have spent years trapped inside my insecurities, so sure that I didn't deserve the best.<br /> <br /> <b>Not anymore.</b>.<br /> <br /> You see that skin. Filled with scars and dried tears. You see how resilient I can be. You see how strong I can be. You see how I've paid my freedom by sacrificing things I thought I could never lose.<br /> <br /> Today, I am reborn. With this skin covered with scar, I rise like a phoenix rises from its ashes. Today, I am delightful because I finally realize my own worth. Today is my birthday, and I know that the time has come to move along.<br /> <br /> I am original, cannot be replaced.</p> Sat, 23 Jun 2012 12:43:48 -0700 2011-11-25T01:17:54-08:00 nobody@flickr.com (sputnik sweetheart *) tag:flickr.com,2004:/photo/7427352446 You're original, cannot be replaced <p>24.06.2012<br /> <br /> I have spent one year to another feeling insecure, misfit, and scared of being rejected. I have spent years feeling not good enough. I have spent years trapped inside my insecurities, so sure that I didn't deserve the best.<br /> <br /> <b>Not anymore.</b>.<br /> <br /> You see that skin. Filled with scars and dried tears. You see how resilient I can be. You see how strong I can be. You see how I've paid my freedom by sacrificing things I thought I could never lose.<br /> <br /> Today, I am reborn. With this skin covered with scar, I rise like a phoenix rises from its ashes. Today, I am delightful because I finally realize my own worth. Today is my birthday, and I know that the time has come to move along.<br /> <br /> I am original, cannot be replaced.</p> sputnik sweetheart * 6x6 mediumformat ilfordhp5 birthdaygirl asa400 hasselblad500cm aboutagirl She only remained in the realm of documents and memory. http://www.flickr.com/photos/freeallangels/7006393414/ <p><a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/freeallangels/">sputnik sweetheart *</a> posted a photo:</p> <p><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/freeallangels/7006393414/" title="She only remained in the realm of documents and memory."><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7278/7006393414_2a879a96e1_m.jpg" width="235" height="240" alt="She only remained in the realm of documents and memory." /></a></p> <p><i>and he needed that much time to understand how lonely his life was without her presence. Sometimes,in the moments right before sleep came, he wondered if he was destined to be alone forever ...</i></p> Mon, 07 May 2012 07:05:36 -0700 2012-05-08T00:01:07-08:00 nobody@flickr.com (sputnik sweetheart *) tag:flickr.com,2004:/photo/7006393414 She only remained in the realm of documents and memory. <p><i>and he needed that much time to understand how lonely his life was without her presence. Sometimes,in the moments right before sleep came, he wondered if he was destined to be alone forever ...</i></p> sputnik sweetheart * Silently screaming http://www.flickr.com/photos/freeallangels/7102820833/ <p><a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/freeallangels/">sputnik sweetheart *</a> posted a photo:</p> <p><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/freeallangels/7102820833/" title="Silently screaming"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7194/7102820833_360e616695_m.jpg" width="236" height="240" alt="Silently screaming" /></a></p> <p>She was the cosmos, she was a cosmos and she had no boundaries<br /> The stars she held within had no bones no structure no name<br /> Dusty echoes would sometimes meet her ears but she would not bother<br /> Swimming here and there, surrounded by insensitivity and mystery<br /> Why should she care when it was her own lie that always had the brightest aura, the loudest scream ?<br /> She did not betrayed sound, she did not demand a rapture of the meteors that had found home in her chest<br /> Her delicate figure, her petite frame keeping them safe<br /> From light, from time, from herself<br /> Because I know, she knows –<br /> You can’t reach that deep<br /> <br /> She listened to the sound of hatred and wept<br /> She listened to the sound of ignorance and screamed<br /> She listened to the sound of apathy<br /> And reached for the earplugs<br /> Like everyone else<br /> Waiting<br /> For the sound<br /> Of death<br /> <br /> <i>Driving and piercing, it was inescapable, it flowed over her body like water, the joy it brought her was immense, like a love you believe you will never lose</i> <b>.</b></p> Sun, 22 Apr 2012 10:21:45 -0700 2012-04-14T03:34:14-08:00 nobody@flickr.com (sputnik sweetheart *) tag:flickr.com,2004:/photo/7102820833 Silently screaming <p>She was the cosmos, she was a cosmos and she had no boundaries<br /> The stars she held within had no bones no structure no name<br /> Dusty echoes would sometimes meet her ears but she would not bother<br /> Swimming here and there, surrounded by insensitivity and mystery<br /> Why should she care when it was her own lie that always had the brightest aura, the loudest scream ?<br /> She did not betrayed sound, she did not demand a rapture of the meteors that had found home in her chest<br /> Her delicate figure, her petite frame keeping them safe<br /> From light, from time, from herself<br /> Because I know, she knows –<br /> You can’t reach that deep<br /> <br /> She listened to the sound of hatred and wept<br /> She listened to the sound of ignorance and screamed<br /> She listened to the sound of apathy<br /> And reached for the earplugs<br /> Like everyone else<br /> Waiting<br /> For the sound<br /> Of death<br /> <br /> <i>Driving and piercing, it was inescapable, it flowed over her body like water, the joy it brought her was immense, like a love you believe you will never lose</i> <b>.</b></p> sputnik sweetheart * 6x6 mediumformat moods asa400 hasselblad500cm fujichromevelvia aboutagirl foundinonewordcom Like mirrors and cameras, she absorbs images and reflects them faithfully http://www.flickr.com/photos/freeallangels/6956687336/ <p><a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/freeallangels/">sputnik sweetheart *</a> posted a photo:</p> <p><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/freeallangels/6956687336/" title="Like mirrors and cameras, she absorbs images and reflects them faithfully"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7267/6956687336_0d1467cc9e_m.jpg" width="240" height="240" alt="Like mirrors and cameras, she absorbs images and reflects them faithfully" /></a></p> <p>This memory defines who she is, shapes her life, and is trying to send her to a place that has been decided for her.<br /> <br /> The world, after all, seems to have a better sense of how she wants things not to go.<br /> <br /> But you should know that you can never underestimate the power of a girl who knows what she wants.<br /> <br /> "Welcome to resistance," she says with her smoky, mischievous voice. "The tension is here. Between who you are and who you could be. Between how it is and how it should be. But I dare you to move. I dare you to lift yourself off the floor, like today never happened before."</p> Sun, 22 Apr 2012 10:04:03 -0700 2012-02-16T20:34:01-08:00 nobody@flickr.com (sputnik sweetheart *) tag:flickr.com,2004:/photo/6956687336 Like mirrors and cameras, she absorbs images and reflects them faithfully <p>This memory defines who she is, shapes her life, and is trying to send her to a place that has been decided for her.<br /> <br /> The world, after all, seems to have a better sense of how she wants things not to go.<br /> <br /> But you should know that you can never underestimate the power of a girl who knows what she wants.<br /> <br /> "Welcome to resistance," she says with her smoky, mischievous voice. "The tension is here. Between who you are and who you could be. Between how it is and how it should be. But I dare you to move. I dare you to lift yourself off the floor, like today never happened before."</p> sputnik sweetheart * 6x6 mediumformat ilfordhp5 hasselblad500cm aboutagirl Irene Song - Malbec http://www.flickr.com/photos/freeallangels/6947637352/ <p><a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/freeallangels/">sputnik sweetheart *</a> posted a photo:</p> <p><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/freeallangels/6947637352/" title="Irene Song - Malbec "><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7059/6947637352_4f46ddd230_m.jpg" width="240" height="240" alt="Irene Song - Malbec " /></a></p> <p>There's nothing to see except grey smoke stilted against a rotting horizon. I was too busy talking on the phone to care. Or maybe it was so that I wouldn't catch you hung up on somebody that you used to know.</p> Thu, 19 Apr 2012 09:05:12 -0700 2012-04-09T00:33:42-08:00 nobody@flickr.com (sputnik sweetheart *) tag:flickr.com,2004:/photo/6947637352 Irene Song - Malbec <p>There's nothing to see except grey smoke stilted against a rotting horizon. I was too busy talking on the phone to care. Or maybe it was so that I wouldn't catch you hung up on somebody that you used to know.</p> sputnik sweetheart * 6x6 mediumformat ilfordhp5 hasselblad500cm aboutagirl gotyefeatkimbrasomebodythatiusedtoknow irenesongmalbec What emotion would rule her heart? http://www.flickr.com/photos/freeallangels/6930761118/ <p><a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/freeallangels/">sputnik sweetheart *</a> posted a photo:</p> <p><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/freeallangels/6930761118/" title="What emotion would rule her heart?"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7235/6930761118_eddbcdb87b_m.jpg" width="240" height="240" alt="What emotion would rule her heart?" /></a></p> <p>A sense of having lost touch with reality? Or an indistinguishable blend of several emotions?<br /> <br /> As she sips her chai tea, her eyes travel to a non-existent object at the back of a long lost dream and I'm almost sure that she — this time — is irretrievably lost for good.<br /> <br /> "Some Cancerians fear emotional intensity in a potential mate because they feel so emotional intense themselves," she says, out of the blue. Her eyes are still fixed on that non-existent object that only she can see. <br /> <br /> I find myself wondering what's so fascinating about ghosts.<br /> <br /> "Does this mean that my life has been nothing but a process through which I am giving concrete form to the dormant image inside me?" she wonders as the spring wind blows her silk hair, making it dances wildly around her enigmatic face.<br /> <br /> "I don't know the answer to that, honestly," I reply, carefully turn my head up to the ceiling of my bedroom. We are both quiet for a while, then I turn my attention back at her, looking longingly at how my shirt looks ten times better when she wears it on her body.<br /> <br /> "What do you think?" she asks, buttoning the top button and fixes her dreamy eyes at me.<br /> <br /> "For me, I am doing things that are true to me. The only thing I have a problem with is being labeled," I say.<br /> <br /> She seems to think about my words thoroughly for a full five minutes before her lips turn into a barely-there-smile. <br /> <br /> "My doctor said that I just took it to the limit," she tells me as she wraps her delicate frame with her arms. "And here I am now, with this inflicted wound tattooed to my body until all my skin is gone. But it's okay. I'll live."<br /> <br /> "You'll live," I copy her words, and she nods before finally retrieving herself to that forgotten dream of the world.<br /> <br /> Who's the ghost now?</p> Sat, 14 Apr 2012 08:54:13 -0700 2012-04-15T03:07:54-08:00 nobody@flickr.com (sputnik sweetheart *) tag:flickr.com,2004:/photo/6930761118 What emotion would rule her heart? <p>A sense of having lost touch with reality? Or an indistinguishable blend of several emotions?<br /> <br /> As she sips her chai tea, her eyes travel to a non-existent object at the back of a long lost dream and I'm almost sure that she — this time — is irretrievably lost for good.<br /> <br /> "Some Cancerians fear emotional intensity in a potential mate because they feel so emotional intense themselves," she says, out of the blue. Her eyes are still fixed on that non-existent object that only she can see. <br /> <br /> I find myself wondering what's so fascinating about ghosts.<br /> <br /> "Does this mean that my life has been nothing but a process through which I am giving concrete form to the dormant image inside me?" she wonders as the spring wind blows her silk hair, making it dances wildly around her enigmatic face.<br /> <br /> "I don't know the answer to that, honestly," I reply, carefully turn my head up to the ceiling of my bedroom. We are both quiet for a while, then I turn my attention back at her, looking longingly at how my shirt looks ten times better when she wears it on her body.<br /> <br /> "What do you think?" she asks, buttoning the top button and fixes her dreamy eyes at me.<br /> <br /> "For me, I am doing things that are true to me. The only thing I have a problem with is being labeled," I say.<br /> <br /> She seems to think about my words thoroughly for a full five minutes before her lips turn into a barely-there-smile. <br /> <br /> "My doctor said that I just took it to the limit," she tells me as she wraps her delicate frame with her arms. "And here I am now, with this inflicted wound tattooed to my body until all my skin is gone. But it's okay. I'll live."<br /> <br /> "You'll live," I copy her words, and she nods before finally retrieving herself to that forgotten dream of the world.<br /> <br /> Who's the ghost now?</p> sputnik sweetheart * 6x6 mediumformat hasselblad500cm sleepingwithghost aboutagirl looselybasedon1q84 the boy who can't be moved http://www.flickr.com/photos/freeallangels/6928936604/ <p><a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/freeallangels/">sputnik sweetheart *</a> posted a photo:</p> <p><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/freeallangels/6928936604/" title="the boy who can't be moved"><img src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5347/6928936604_6072134921_m.jpg" width="240" height="240" alt="the boy who can't be moved" /></a></p> <p>"Like the sound of the rain heard long ago, his awkwardness struck a chord with me." <br /> — Blind Willow, Sleeping Woman</p> Fri, 13 Apr 2012 16:16:43 -0700 2012-04-09T00:34:11-08:00 nobody@flickr.com (sputnik sweetheart *) tag:flickr.com,2004:/photo/6928936604 the boy who can't be moved <p>"Like the sound of the rain heard long ago, his awkwardness struck a chord with me." <br /> — Blind Willow, Sleeping Woman</p> sputnik sweetheart * 6x6 mediumformat streetphotography ilfordhp5 asa400 hasselblad500cm aboutaboy