London, Baraka, and The Walkers

I watched Baraka again last night, in a screening room filled with the MA Documentary students, with my red coat, black legging, and boots, of course. (I am so London-ized). My last entry was on Baraka and I am quite sure it was a made up date. It would have been impossible to watched anything that night. We had a farewell party. 

Things got surprisingly confusing, after that September night: the LPDP team guy called and told me I had my scholarship and made me chose to stay for another month for an orientation or else, I had to cancel my ticket, postponed my arrival, and wished that a two-weeks absence would be easy peasy, bid my we-were-starting-to-think-that-we-were-inseparable-and-now-we-have-to-be-without-each-other-for-two-weeks-friend farewell, and a grief from the death of an aunt. So, I got pretty nervous.

Here with all the reasons to wear coat and looking cool effortlessly, one would tend to explore without absorbing and walk with no findings. I was running errands and chasing knowledge, and often times I would forget to breath and just be all about myself. The person I'd like to be, not the person others would chose to be with. Being stupid and foolish and not care about it is the best thing for me for now. There would always be the people I haven't met, places I haven't been, or minds I haven't shared. I seriously think that sometimes wanderers are actually just walkers. Yup, like those in The Walking Dead.

I wonder if those who wander actually wish to be found. 

PS: Oh, and I'm not taking my MA in Documentary, that would be just too cool. Mine's in Creative and Cultural Entrepreneurship and let's pray that my mad idea of going here in the midst of the uber-creative city works as plan. 

Pictures taken at Greenwich. October 2013.