My diary remains untouched on my desk.
This blog has been suffering a disease I would like to call “The Glorified Depository of Monthly Status Updates” (except mine are in pictures and are usually called ‘look backs’).
I could deliberately list down a thousand reasons as to why my writing has been waning. Blame it on the job and the excessive reading. Yeah, right.
We all know (just agree with me on this) that at the end of each day, I only have myself to blame–me and my irrevocable incapacity in ‘logging’ the simplified and happy version of my life. Through the years, I have been accumulating writings of my heart wrenching experiences. Oh, you can’t imagine the patience I have for slaving over wording heart break. It’s like a masochistic addiction of making unwanted memories more real and more ‘there’–a little more ‘at my fingertips’!
Type. Delete. Reword. Delete a few more. Reword. Stare. Type in ‘why’ questions that are sure to punch the gut. Stare. Cry some more. Post.
Nowadays, life has been quiet, simple, and happy. It’s funny how, right at this very moment, I seem to be perfectly content in living the present than writing and rewriting the past. I seem to be more ‘over here’ than ‘over there’, standing right where life happens and where happiness is really at my finger tips.
That’s a good thing, right?