The Problem

The problem with having one of these things is that it requires maintenance and thought. That, my friends, is the problem with being the owner of a blog.

It is sometimes, funny, that we undertake responsibilities such as this only to throw it away. We start a blog with dreams and aims and hopes and ideas only to fall way behind and throw it all away. I once had plans about what I want to write about. I had, in my mind, simple and easy steps to achieve what I imagined would be great and splendid.

But I fell behind. That is no excuse, but that is exactly what I did. Fall, or fell behind.

The problem with shouldering responsibilities is that failure is often irrevocably unavoidable from the very moment the job become ours. From the moment we love, we are condemned to a certain sort of ‘forever’ with our object/person of desire. From the moment we say ‘yes’, it becomes harder to say the opposite of ‘no’.

And from the moment the first post was honestly written, I have since found it hard to write untruths and lies. It was never my intention to use this as a platform to tell inventive stories. Stories are stemmed from the underlying current of my life and to spin new ones bear too much of a disrespect to my way of living.

I could cry from that thought itself.

The problem with having one of these, my friends, is that it is sometimes hard. To write. To say I have been busy is a wayward excuse. To say that I have had nothing to say is form of shying away.

The truth is that it is sometimes so god-damn hard to acknowledge your rawest moments. Those bare moments are sometimes meant to stay that way. How can I violate them by putting them into mere words. Nothing can capture their existence for they are beyond the human realm of beauty. To do so would be an insult because even if I tried my damnest, I would still be so far short. And for that I would rather say nothing, for if I did, I would suffer the pain of my words.

So instead, I’ll apologise for my absence.