Starting Again

It’s amazing to think back and know that I started to write my page, a journal, sometimes in 1987. Other people, writers, born then have grown up and are now published authors. I believe, in my case the story of the hare and the tortoise is gonna fructify. And I know I’m no hare. (It’s always good to strike a winning note)

Anyway, I must say what prompted me to scribble (sic) again. I chanced upon a blog online and for two days I’m hooked. I won’t reveal the source for I have some pretty good reasons and plagiarism is not one of them. Yes, I was saying, I am hooked. I read the writers since she (ok, this much I can reveal) started blogging in 2005. Although she wrote off and on, she had some great insights on thoughts and characters- some which surprised me – the fact that she was just 19 then.

What I learn from her is detachment in the process of living, observing, writing. She enjoys yet she keeps a distance. She stores the moments with emotions, thoughts and context and then compares when those context change. This is something which I have not been able to successfully distinguish even though I can appreciate it in her. You can see I’m struggling to get my words correctly.

This detachment, distinctions, this handling of things modularly is a stuff to go after. I’m more sold to the methodology of thought than the thought itself. But differentiation is not my strong point.
As for me, I go absolutely into the moment then come out scathed. The worse part is I find myself empty handed. Then, as if I am sitting in the bar, I call – repeat!

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