The Day I Sat at the Bar While Everyone Else Lived

It’s the beginning of 2025, and for the first time we’re heading to Ramayana Water Park.
I won’t go into details about the park itself today — I’m preparing a separate, big post about that incredible place.

We rode there on a motorbike, about 40 minutes from where we live. The road was warm, the air thick with that familiar Thai humidity, and somewhere along the way we passed the massive mountain with the golden Buddha carved into it. Tourists were stopping, taking photos, pointing at the shining figure in the sun. We didn’t stop. Our destination was set.

I did manage to take a few photos on the way to the park. Don’t judge the quality too harshly — at that time I had been holding a camera for only about two months. I was still learning, still experimenting, shooting almost everything that caught my eye.

Today, when going through those old shots, I selected only the ones filled with smiles — genuine laughter, splashes of water frozen mid-air, faces lit up with pure excitement. That kind of happiness you can’t fake.

And it made me think.

When was the last time I felt joy like that?
Not the “I’m satisfied” kind. Not the “everything is fine” kind.
But the simple, loud, careless happiness of a child running toward a water slide.

I remembered that day clearly.

I didn’t swim once.
I didn’t go down a single slide.
I didn’t even get wet.

I just photographed.

Between shots, I sat at the bar and had a drink. Watching. Observing. Capturing everyone else’s fun through the lens, but not participating in it.

I told myself I was fine. I was happy about the weather. Happy that my son was thrilled, laughing, running, splashing. And I truly was. But for myself? I decided it wasn’t interesting.

That thought bothered me later.

Is that what getting older looks like?
When you start choosing comfort over chaos? Observation over experience?

Photography is beautiful. It allows you to freeze moments. But sometimes you can get so focused on capturing life that you forget to actually live it.

I don’t want to become the guy who documents joy instead of feeling it.

Next time we go, I’m leaving the bar alone.
I’m climbing every slide with my son.
I’m getting soaked.
I’m laughing too loud.

No alcohol. No complaining. No “I’ll just watch.”

If there’s a fire missing — I’ll light it again.

Because happiness isn’t something you photograph.
It’s something you jump into.

I write my texts myself, correct mistakes and translate via ChatGPT (which is not a violation on Hive)!
All photos were taken by me personally - I am a beginner photographer, so I ask professionals not to judge strictly.

Thank you for sharing these moments with me! Until new stories and new holidays! ✌️.

Camera 📷: Sony Alpha 7 IV full-frame
Lens 🔭: Sony FE 70-200mm F: 2.8 GM OSS II
Lens 🔭: Sony FE 90mm F2.8 Macro G OSS
Lens 🔭: Sony FE 24–70mm f/2.8 GM II
Processed 🛠: Lightroom

photo by openai