My sister and I just got off a buggie ride in Sentosa Singapore and proceeded to line up for the ski lift to take us back up to the top.
While on the line my sister nudged me on the shoulder and did that ‘subtle’ lip-pout-pointing-thing towards this girl with blonde beach waves and freckles all over her body.
The first thing my sister and I noticed were her eyes, they were gorgeous, a sort of saturated ash-blue, I tried taking stalker photos of her but my inner ‘common-decency’ overcame my guts. I have no problem with people-watching but doing it in a line that’s moving at a painfully glacial pace, with the ‘stalkee’ being mere feet away from us—just no.

I wasn’t quite sure what it was about her that got me so captivated at first. Now I do. She embodied everything I wanted this summer, she embodied everything that I wanted in life. Well, her appearance did anyway.
That ‘roadtrip-to-the-beach’ look, from the disheveled hair, to the clothes (or lack of)—she was walking barefoot on the hot asphalt, beaded bracelets on her wrists, her hair blowing all over her face.
Does it seem selfish of me to want this? I yearn for this so much yet the thought of ‘freedom’ gives me guilt. What exactly does that mean for me?
I don’t know. I don’t know how I’ll be able to do ‘freedom’, I don’t know when. All I know for now is that I will.

(Source: ang-paraluman)

Here are my tourist photos of tourists taking photos. DId you get that?

I just found these two so cute, they did a lot of takes courtesy of their parents but this was the pose I liked the most. Creepy/adorable twins.

Singapore is really a fascinating country, it’s comfortable I’ll tell you that—I find that it lacks a certain kind of intimacy that other countries have, it lacks identity.
They are talented with balloons though. 

(Source: ang-paraluman)

I’m still not over it, not just yet.

all photos from ocean escape.

(Source: ang-paraluman)

(Source: ang-paraluman)

I fail to comprehend why people often burden themselves with the ‘need’ to capture the moment instead of living it. This is the conundrum I face with taking photos, yes I love taking photos so why do I see it as a burden?
In example, you’re in a concert, you see these people lugging around their cameras or phones or whatnot trying to capture videos and snapshots of the performance, in their desire to do so (for whatever reason they may have) they fail to do what they came there to do in the first place—enjoy the concert.

What does this have to do with the tigers? And why do I have this incessant habit of making a point where it is not really needed? For one, it’s because in the safari/tour thing we took part of (where I took the photos of the tigers) I observed how people would rather focus on taking tourist-y photos of themselves posing near this-or-that than actually listening to our (pretty) tour guide and taking in the sites, the sound, the experience. And second, for reasons.

Photography, for a number of people is a venue for expression, to let people see what is often missed—and yes, for memories. I suppose what I struggle with the most is, the contrived feeling most of these ‘souvenir’ photos I see.
To each their own I suppose. 

(Source: ang-paraluman)