As part of my course, I have to write a journal of my experience here in Spain. I’ve been hacking away at the bloody thing for ages now and it seems fairly dull and meaningless. I suppose I could say the same thing about this, but it doesn’t seem the same somehow.
With this, if I’ve got nothing to say, then I say nothing – just the picture. With the journal, I have to think of something, or make something up, whatever big load of shite it ends up being – it’s not like I’ve got nothing else to do either. I shall stop moaning before people from the languages department start trying to ram some sort of meaning for it down my throat.
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