At roughly 6:20pm on Friday (16th September) my bag was taken at Murdoch Station. It was a floral canvas bag and in this bag was my Macbook Pro, my Nikon D90 SLR camera, my red Polaroid camera, various items clothing and my medication. They were taken by 3 teenaged boys who then boarded the 517.

My Macbook had my entire life on it, including my entire photography portfolio, university work, personal writings, 6000+ songs and other things that mean a lot to me that I’ll never get back. The cameras were the result of a lot of love and hard work — it’s heartbreaking  to have something that was the very epitome of my passion taken away from you. All in all there was possibly up to $3000 worth of things that were taken from me that night. As you can imagine, I’m pretty fucking heartbroken and have never been this sad in my entire life. 

If you live in Perth or WA, I’m begging you to please, please, please spread the word however you can and keep your eye out for anyone who has recently attained any one of these items or is trying to sell them. Anyone who has recently attained any of these items may be the perpetrators or may have bought these items without knowing they were stolen from me.

I was eight and in year four and it wasn’t a very sunny day at all. My mother told me how she and my dad saw the second tower get hit and collapse live the night before. She said she was terrified, but I didn’t even remember what the twin towers looked like — the only twin towers I knew were my own. I went to school and discussed childish conspiracy theories with my friends and forgot about it for the rest of the day.

Somebody’s tragedy was only a month of newspaper headlines to me. It’s such a silly, scary thought, but it was and is and always will be such a landmark of an event. It brought along with it a lot of hope and also a lot of hate. I like to contemplate how much less negativity and fear there would be about certain things in our society if 9/11 never happened, but it’s exhausting and tiresome and I have no time left to be sad anymore.

Ten years on, though, and I still cry like a baby.

(Source: gypsyspeak)

emerald-enigmas:

What do we want
Laughter!
What do we want
Love!
What do we want
Dreams!

 - Nine