I don’t know if anybody bothers to read this anymore, seeing how I’ve allowed it to degrade to the point of it being past shambles (if that is even possible). but I figured it would be nice for me to just start blogging again.
the idea of exposing my inner sanctum to semi-public scrutiny (it isn’t fully public if you don’t have a regular audience now, isn’t it?) doesn’t really appeal to me. I don’t know what has caused me to become the recluse that I am now, but I’m sure as hell not complaining when it comes to such a thought.
I guess ultimately, it is this narcissistic bit in me that craves for attention, like a baby craving for it’s mother’s teat. it’s an instinctive bit of human life, something that Freud coined the Id. maybe it’s just me giving in to my primal urges of wanting to be recognised. or maybe I’m just bored and decided this was a much better exercise in killing time then say, reading a book. speaking of books, I’m reading this splendid piece of literature by the same bloke who wrote The Kite Runner called A Thousand Splendid Suns. I’ve set aside some books for me to read over the holidays, just to kill time and ensure that my brain does not turn to mush on a healthy diet of idling and alcoholic indulgence.
long story short, I am back. for how long, I don’t know. but I would like to think of myself as the wandering journeyman through a said passage in time and chronicling his adventures, if he even has any to begin with.
after all, didn’t some wise guy said that this was the mispelled adventures of terryansimon?
