A photographer for the National Geographic

I have reached a saturation point of not wanting to participate with the world. I open Twitter and trolls are all over – it’s not the viciousness that gets me but the sheer stupidity. I open Facebook and I see a list of people fighting over what they think is right. I open a favoured news feed and I find another series of deaths, a build up of a shameful politic, a deterioration of the wild and all I end up feeling is let down by belief.

I’m not intending this to be a rant. It isn’t. I’m just so done and writing this takes me into this cesspool that the world has become. People talk to me of hope.

And I tried that. I even tried the whole after life heaven thing. Realised too late that even metaphorical fathers are a let down. I do want to believe, you know. I do want to believe in the goodness of people. That somewhere there are people that believe animals are worth saving. Every battle has two sides. The ocean is dark and yet it can be beautiful.

I have no clue why I am writing this. Probably to fill up another space on this blog. Get a pretty picture. And yea, think that this piece will get noticed, maybe even liked. But once I put it up I will forget about it. Like I forget about the fact that people want to save the world, not for the sake of the world, but because of the children they have produced and/or hope to produce. A world in which killing becomes a part of a game, where movies that end with death become super hits, murder and violence is filmed and broadcast. A world where the Hunger games make complete sense.

Speaking of hunger, I must incorporate what happened the other day. The other day I went to the mall – and I made a mistake of choosing to go there on a Sunday. Worse, I was hungry. So I went to the food court. It’s like an oasis on the African savanna. Only difference here is that the young are in no great danger. So they burgeon and overpower sound and space.

We’ve all become so American we don’t have to go to America anymore. Which is a good thing. We have decided being a part of the third world isn’t great. I admire the move, upward or downward is all a matter of another debate. But why not? Let’s have a go at it if you want, these days it’s all about the argument. About having a voice. Let it be heard, even if it has the merit of nails on a black board. One must not discriminate or else one shall be discriminated against.

I should get back to work. Something to do to maintain the lifestyle I am used to. Switch on the air conditioner, not because I am cold, but because I am having a problem with allergies. It’s a vicious cycle. We are all caught up in it. Even if we realise this, the solution to it is a whole different ball game. It may put us into another cycle.

Yet, I just don’t want to care for the moment. And although being a photographer for the National Geographic is hard, how can you not hurt to see a fawn strangled by a lioness, or a buffalo being torn apart by wild dogs? I need to turn the mind off for a while and deaden it with the process of work.

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