I've noticed that the previous blog post is dated exactly one year and two days after the last post. A total one year absence. People might think I was dead.
I am however forever grateful that I am still alive and breathing. It's just that I found other people's blog posts I read have evolved into amazing pieces of writing - much too different from my own incoherent ramblings. Most have found their footing, playing to their strengths and developing skills as they blog. I for one, have not.
I know for one thing, that my writings are rubbishy. Proof was, my lecturer gave me a C for an assignment. And this is the third time I'm whining about it online.
There's a grain of dust stuck under the key 'i'. Wait a bit while I get it out ikkuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuiiijjjjjjjjjjjjjjiijjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjiiiiiukiiiiuiiiuiijiiiiiiiiiiiiijjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjuuuuuuuuuiiuuuiiiiiiiiihiiijjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhghghjhhhhhhhhhhuiiiijjjhhhhhhhhhhhhuyhhhhkiiiiiiiiiiiiiiuiiijjjjjjjjjjjkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkjjjjjjuiiiiiuuiiooiiikjui8888888yyuiokjhyuiohjkiiiiiooiiiii
Phew. In the end I didn't know what got stuck. I did fish out a lot of dead skin cells that have accumulated into dust kittens, though.
Anyway, I guess my writing was at the same 'takuk' as two, three years ago. My vocabulary hasn't improved. My ideas haven't developed much, too. As a start, I guess I should change my reading materials. Opt for something the average adult my age likes, perhaps. Get my hands on some non-fiction. Widen my interests. And move my ass and get things done.
Anyway. Last year I think I may have found new love. But nothing's for sure. See you.
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