Flickr staff and workings is in a word - blunder
I have been thinking of moving away from posting photos in flickr.
Asked myself time and again is it pure narcissism
Yesterdays treat for me on flickup was finding they have blacklisted a
flagcounter that was really a bomb for me,
Not because of their decision to do so, rather because they decided it
was their bloody right to remove all posts that contained the now deemed
poisonous url.
I such a url in most of my photos, count them that was just over 1000,
Along with the bath water went all my babies, the additional photos to explain
the main image... sigh.. I am so upset and yes I was so very angry....
Personal original text, poems & quotes, greetings to friends, contacts... sigh.
© M'sheArt-oOo-graphy All rights reserved.
this song popped into my head...
Round
Like a circle in a spiral
Like a wheel within a wheel
Never ending or beginning
On an ever-spinning reel
Like a snowball down a mountain
Or a carnival balloon
Like a carousel thats turning
Running rings around the moon
Like a clock whose hands are sweeping
Past the minutes of its face
And the world is like an apple
Whirling silently in space
Like the circles that you find
In the windmills of your mind
Like a tunnel that you follow
To a tunnel of its own
Down a hollow to a cavern
Where the sun has never shone
Like a door that keeps revolving
In a half-forgotten dream
Or the ripples from a pebble
Someone tosses in a stream
Like a clock whose hands are sweeping
Past the minutes of its face
And the world is like an apple
Whirling silently in space
Like the circles that you find
In the windmills of your mind
Keys that jingle in your pocket
Words that jangle in your head
Why did summer go so quickly?
Was it something that you said?
Lovers walk along a shore
And leave their footprints in the sand
Is the sound of distant drumming
Just the fingers of your hand?
Pictures hanging in a hallway
And the fragment of a song
Half-remembered names and faces
But to whom do they belong?
When you knew that it was over
You were suddenly aware
That the autumn leaves were turning
To the colour of her hair
Like a circle in a spiral
Like a wheel within a wheel
Never ending or beginning
On an ever-spinning reel
As the images unwind
Like the circles that you find
In the windmills of your mind
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