I've come to realise that in the past couple of years, for me, ideas worthy of blogging come far less frequently. The reason for this is likely the fact that I used to be fueled by cynicism, sarcasm, disillusionment, frustration, and a whole host of other rather unpleasant emotions.
Here's wondering if my blog posts, as they currently exist, were merely the product of teenage angst gone awry. When I browse through the archived posts, I actually battle to wrap my mind around just how I've changed, since then. If my present self met my old self, a rather thorough lecture would ensue.
Resignation: Sanity's refuge, I presume?
This is a manifestation of me, of who I am, of my thoughts, my dreams, my desires, my life, only all in text. It serves as an outlet, and most importantly, it allows me to laugh at myself.
