I am Jack's...

I am Jack's willingness to start over.

Late night studying, in and around the palace, fortunately brought some results! B+ in biochemistry! I'm gladly going to forget everything I know about pyruvate kinase or synthesis of ketone bodies now. Watch me. I'm one exam closer to summer. Let me just tell you, I'm barely coping with the heat! I dream of pools, cold water droplets on my skin & frappes. I need to hold on for some more. Cold baths will have to do for now. The saddest thing I learnt today is that my lovely Zenit has some serious problems. I'm pretty sure there is something wrong with the shutter curtain, but I will have to look into that. Apparently, lomography is not as easy as it looks like. It's sad that in the end what I get is bunch of overexposed or half exposed pictures with only a few glimpses of hope for my SLR. I promised more humans involved snaps, but they all turned to sh*t, sadly! Don't fret though, one day I will have you all on my film. No exceptions.

Alright, I surely loved Lomography's 400 ISO film. Sensitive enough to catch some amazing hues & lights! I'm moving onto Kodak Gold which is a 200 but I still have faith it will produce some great results. On the other hand, I actually thought of getting something VERY expired. So curious to know what a film valid due to 1987 could do! When I get back home I'm going to try to shoot with a ZORKI. A camera my grandparents  kept in their belongings. One that captured my mum when she was a little child. Some important legacy right there, folks! 

The pictures in this post come from inside of the Branicki palace, the reading room, the view outside on its gardens and a detail here and there. Like I told you already, I am deeply and utterly in love with this place, so be sure I'll manage to smuggle a snap of it every now and then!

"YOUR LIFE IS NOT AN EPISODE OF SKINS. THINGS WILL NEVER LOOK QUITE AS GOOD AS THEY DO IN A FADED, SUN-DRENCHED POLAROID; YOUR DAYS ARE NOT AN EDITORIAL FROM LULA. YOUR LIFE IS NOT A SOFIA COPPOLA MOVIE, OR A CHUCK PALAHNIUK NOVEL, OR A CHARLES BUKOWSKI POEM. GRACE CODDINGTON ISN’T YOUR CREATIVE DIRECTOR. BON IVER AND JOY DIVISION DON’T PLAY SOFTLY IN THE BACKGROUND AT APPROPRIATE MOMENTS. YOUR HYSTERICAL TEENAGE DIARY ISN’T A WORK OF ART. YOUR ROOM PROBABLY ISN’T SELBY MATERIAL. YOUR LIFE ISN’T A TUMBLR SCREENCAP. EVERY WORD THAT COMES OUT OF YOUR MOUTH WILL NOT BE BEAUTIFUL AND POIGNANT, INFINITELY QUOTABLE. YOUR PAIN WILL NOT BE PRETTY. CRYING TILL YOU VOMIT IS ALWAYS SHIT. YOU CANNOT ROMANTICIZE HURT. OR SADNESS. OR LONELINESS. YOU WILL HAVE HOMEWORK, AND HANGOVERS AND BAD HAIR DAYS. THE TRAIN BEING LATE WON’T LEAD TO ANY FATEFUL ENCOUNTERS, IT WILL MAKE YOU LATE. SOMETIMES YOUR WORK WILL SUCK. SOMETIMES YOU WILL SUCK. FAR TOO OFTEN, EVERYTHING WILL SUCK - AND NOT IN A WES ANDERSON KIND OF WAY. AND THERE IS NO DIVINE CONSOLATION - ONLY THE KNOWLEDGE THAT WE WILL HOPEFULLY EXPERIENCE THE FULL SPECTRUM - AND THAT SOMETIMES, JUST SOMETIMES, LIFE WILL FEEL LIKE A COPPOLA FILM."

One thought lingers on though. Once, I indeed knew you. I would lie if I said I felt indifferent about it. 

Look how perfectly out of focus I am. I'M WORKING ON IT. Although it pretty much sums up how I feel these days -- out of touch with anything that's real.

I am Jack's inflamed sense of rejection,

(And yes, I had an afternoon date with Tyler Durden.)