.nomatterwhattheysay.Wellington Rd, Clayton, May 2009
...Er, hi.
*pushes cobwebs out of the way*
I have now come to terms with the fact that my supposedly-superb writing skills are now as obsolete as Mischa Barton's nonexistent movie career. And that reviving the spirit of this neglected blog is proving to be a foolish attempt even more terminally futile than trying to pronounce yours truly's long-ass name without having an oral seizure of the spastic variety.
*shrugs*
Well.
I do know that a dismissive lift of the left eyebrow and a bashful, happy-go-lucky grin won't pass as a decent excuse to rightfully explain my extended absence. But I needed that break. I needed to get away for a while. I had to organize my thoughts, and deal with my emotions.
And so I did.
In retrospect, though, I do think that the blog deserved some down time of its own, too. A part of my self-absorbed psyche likes to believe that the world was a better place, on a micro scale, during my absence. One less irrational wave of noises to deal with. One less snobby blogger to bitch about. Definitely wasn't world-peace material, that's for damn sure. But this irrational-noise-making fuckwit was simply having too much on his plate. So I guess in the end the silence was well-earned for. Wasn't it?
So, yeah. For the sake of humility - or lack thereof, I'll just shut up and humbly take the blame, basking in the unspoken guilt that all ye faithful readers - yes, all three of you - have unconsciously put on me when I was away.
To be frank, I did receive some complaints regarding the coma-like state of this blog over the last couple of months. Fragments of comments and questions ranging from trivial one-liners in the middle of casual conversations to borderline hostile paragraphs sent through various 21st-century social platforms. And they were all valid comments, actually.
Come to think of it, it is only natural for us to complain about stuff, right?
I mean, as community beings in charge of our own sense of self, we are rightfully entitled to occasional bursts of negative social commentary.
Or are we not?
Well, I know for a fact that affluent, effortless complaining is one of my precious few - if any - discernable talents.
I complain about my too-short Jakarta getaway. Three fucking weeks!
I complain about already missing Melbourne as soon as my plane touched down.
I complain about the weather.
I complain about traffic.
I complain about the lack of proper coffee in my house. And when I say proper coffee I earnestly don't mean tangy, weak, watery coffee of the instant variety.
I complain about the local TV shows that I get exposed to whenever I turn on the telly.
I complain about bad grammar.
I complain about not being able to afford better seats for Britney Spears's Melbourne concert. *sobs*
I complain about not getting enough sleep.
I complain about having nothing to do.
I complain about not being able to be out and about simply because the sheer presence of the only form of modern transportation that I can get access to here is as scarce as the amount of hair follicles remaining on Donald Trump's head.
I complain about not being able to write large blocks of texts containing witty lines, incoherent words and jumbled-up sentences with ease anymore. And this is precisely what drove me to refrain from blogging in the first place. Right now I feel like my over-the-top literary skills now reach as far as my koi fish's ability to remember their feeding times correctly. I mean, hello-o-o, how many times do I have to remind you guys that bobbing your slimy little heads by the sides of the pond at 3pm isn't gonna do anything to get you food?
Umm. Yeah. See? Incoherent?
*clears throat*
But anyway.
I complain about the miserable state of my skin, and how my face now resembles a large, greasy, cheese-covered meat lover's pizza, for lack of a more descriptive comparison.
I complain about my weight.
I complain about only getting a big fat C for my BHS2711 essay.
I complain about not knowing what to do with my life.
I complain about not knowing what I've made out of my life so far.
And yes, I complain about being such a total jerk for complaining about everything.
Yeah. Being an acute complainer definitely has its perks.
But don't we all complain about stuff we don't like?
Notice how many times I have repeatedly used the word 'complain' during the course of this post. I've used it far too many times and now the word fails to make a point.
And why the hell did I choose to start yapping about complaining in the first place?
*shrugs*
Maybe I'm just uninspired. At least I tried.
But hey. Thanks for all your concern.
The sabbatical did me good. And now I'm fully recharged, ready to churn out more incomprehensible, witty-sounding words for you guys to get crazy about. Or not.
Now y'all can heave out a sigh and be rest assured that this man *points at self* is not dead, yet. And this blog will continue to be the bane of existence of you guys o faithful readers - oh yes, all three of you still - as long as the resident bitch, namely me, lives.
I hereby welcome you back to my realm of unintelligible social discourse.
Make yourselves at home. And have a pleasant stay. *winks*
...'Till next time.
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