Three rolls of film, each of differing ages

Three pairs. Some mates.

I found some time, recently, so I decided to process these rolls of film I had lying around.

Right, yes, I scanned them myself, and they're dirty as fuck, and the colour is off, but I don't give a shit, alright? If a gallery asks me for some good prints, I'll work on them. But I don't care enough, for an image 500 by 333 pixels in size, to be viewed on a crappy screen, to spend more than two minutes adjusting it in Photoshop.

[I lie. I really do care about this pedantic shit. It's just that it's too dirty that it would take so much effort to get it to the level I would like it to be at, so if I pretend and say I'm fine with it at a level that's barely acceptable then I'm sure nobody will notice...]

I was thinking, around this time last year [I was bored, on a tour bus going through Taiwan, thinking about what I'd do with my life when I got back to Sydney], that I'd go ahead and make a book of my photos. I mean, I've got boxes full of shitty six by fours, negatives that have never been blown up, scanned, or even seen properly. I'd manually make these books of my photos, scan them good, make them pretty and print them on nice paper, bind them good and have a real book you can handle, with my own photos. My sister shot down that idea when I told her, saying, when are you going to find the time?

I've actually got more important things to do. I have to save the world.

This is a blog

Hi.

I found a few moments, here. I was sick of watching those MOR fuckers, sitting back, waiting on the world to change for them. I'm gonna do something.

Right.

I'm going to bed. Maybe I'll do something tomorrow.

Night.