I realize it has been a while, almost a year since I posted anything on my blog. It is kind of sad, sad in its own deep somber way. I love to write, matter of fact I wanted to be an author/novelist at some point of my life. Like one of those miserably powerful desires but strongly passive aspirations, it just diluted to the realms of unreality. Not that it was hard to pursue but when I conceived that idea, I wasn't ready for a change. Maybe there were too many changes spontaneously occurring and I didn't want to add to them. Changes scare me. Continuity scares me more.
I promised myself that I will write a post exactly after one year when I accidentally stumbled upon my blog and realized that the date was precisely one year old. The promise made in the lab was proven to be fragile by the end of 4 hours.
My loyalty to this hobby appears to be questionable but it is like a matured addiction which recognizes you quickly even after many years.
I came home, switched on my laptop and started surfing the net for important and unimportant things. I won't say finding a home decor item or a good deal on that just- so-perfect pair of jeans can be more important than my passion for writing. Given the fact that I am a compulsive and obsessive shopper, I like to spend "my-time" with online and offline shopping. But, I get tired. Quickly. I get frustrated. Easily. It is not love, it is infatuation. Writing is pure love. Absolute bliss.The above mentioned important and unimportant things make 5% of my daily life,may be lesser sometimes. The remaining 95% is summarized by two words - Graduate School
I don't promise my blog that I will be regular in my posts because I won't be. More importantly, I don't have to promise. It has its reassurance implanted in itself. And I have mine. We both know, I will come back. And that's all what matters.
I promised myself that I will write a post exactly after one year when I accidentally stumbled upon my blog and realized that the date was precisely one year old. The promise made in the lab was proven to be fragile by the end of 4 hours.
My loyalty to this hobby appears to be questionable but it is like a matured addiction which recognizes you quickly even after many years.
I came home, switched on my laptop and started surfing the net for important and unimportant things. I won't say finding a home decor item or a good deal on that just- so-perfect pair of jeans can be more important than my passion for writing. Given the fact that I am a compulsive and obsessive shopper, I like to spend "my-time" with online and offline shopping. But, I get tired. Quickly. I get frustrated. Easily. It is not love, it is infatuation. Writing is pure love. Absolute bliss.The above mentioned important and unimportant things make 5% of my daily life,may be lesser sometimes. The remaining 95% is summarized by two words - Graduate School
I don't promise my blog that I will be regular in my posts because I won't be. More importantly, I don't have to promise. It has its reassurance implanted in itself. And I have mine. We both know, I will come back. And that's all what matters.