There is a certain state of mind, when it comes to blogging, that needs to be tapped into first. For some it is a sense of deep calmness. Still others find it a place to unload their semi-truths and poetic musings. For others it is the lure of attention, a prospect of focus lavished unexpectedly on them which is only the surface of the waters that beg for one of human's most simple needs. But for those who are a little apathetic, those of the facebooking generation and the guiltless downloaders, of which I am a proud member, it is the overwhelmingly powerful feeling that they have absolutely nothing better to do.


So here I am again, after a more or less complete lunar cycle's absence, not that anyone noticed. */emocorner* */snaps out of it* Sometimes I feel it's better this way, having no one around. I can trick myself into believing that hardly anyone reads this boring crap, thus freeing myself from constraints of political incorrectness and the like. Meaning I can say whatever I damn well want to, since no one is listening anyway.

But that's not the way it works of course. The only reason humans have speech is to communicate, and if communication is non-existent then what's the point of talking? I wonder if that's why some people don't talk much. They have nothing to communicate with to the world. Maybe they didn't have a chance to.

And the fact remains that somewhere, perhaps in a cute little Romanian house, or a cybercafe in Milan, or a forgotten shack somewhere along the beaches of Rio, a person sits on their armchair/stool/butt in the wee hours of the morning and clicks the I'm Feeling Lucky button and stumbles on this little deposit of emotions and (I'm stating a possibility here, not that I'm sensible enough to be of consequence, let alone lucid enough to be sensible.