This blog had been left untouched for a very long time. Not because I did not have the time for it, but because I was too preoccupied with other less important things.
Much similarities to certain aspects of my life right now. People say that there is no cure for stupidity, I would say, give them time, for they know not what they have done. That's pretty much the gist of it; sometimes though, you knew, yet you still did.
I wish I had maintained it consistently, much like this blog. However unvisited, or unpopular, much like the rubbles at the corner of a desolated street, there will be the occasional traveler daring enough (or silly or bored) to find his way there. It is the anticipation of that moment that may well justify and warrant the work put into maintaining something.
Sometimes you find yourself digging the same hole again and again, and keep falling in it. No matter how many times you picked yourself up in the past, you feel a need to keep doing it. I know there is no excuse to the action, but wouldn't the heart at least feign interest? "He know not what he had done", after all. If you would care enough for the consequence, you would not have done it.
Perhaps I took things for granted, there never is a real need to maintain, and when there is, it is often too late to do anything. Thus begs the question, how much difference would it make if and when the true realisation dawns on the man, he repents, and he heartily believes another chance would let him amend the wrongful ways, and he did?
There's a possibility nothing would change;- he might dig and fall into the same hole again, but there's no telling what could have been if there isn't even a chance afforded in the first place.
How ironic that the resurrection of one thing meant the demise of another. Perhaps the world revolves around irony. Perhaps when you run out of ideas, you fall back to ideas you thought were not. How silly these thoughts seem now.
Much similarities to certain aspects of my life right now. People say that there is no cure for stupidity, I would say, give them time, for they know not what they have done. That's pretty much the gist of it; sometimes though, you knew, yet you still did.
I wish I had maintained it consistently, much like this blog. However unvisited, or unpopular, much like the rubbles at the corner of a desolated street, there will be the occasional traveler daring enough (or silly or bored) to find his way there. It is the anticipation of that moment that may well justify and warrant the work put into maintaining something.
Sometimes you find yourself digging the same hole again and again, and keep falling in it. No matter how many times you picked yourself up in the past, you feel a need to keep doing it. I know there is no excuse to the action, but wouldn't the heart at least feign interest? "He know not what he had done", after all. If you would care enough for the consequence, you would not have done it.
Perhaps I took things for granted, there never is a real need to maintain, and when there is, it is often too late to do anything. Thus begs the question, how much difference would it make if and when the true realisation dawns on the man, he repents, and he heartily believes another chance would let him amend the wrongful ways, and he did?
There's a possibility nothing would change;- he might dig and fall into the same hole again, but there's no telling what could have been if there isn't even a chance afforded in the first place.
How ironic that the resurrection of one thing meant the demise of another. Perhaps the world revolves around irony. Perhaps when you run out of ideas, you fall back to ideas you thought were not. How silly these thoughts seem now.
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