Diary Without Pages

Trivia I find Ignored


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‘Yellow

I’m here, I’m not here. What is this farce I’ve cooked up I wonder. Nothing out of the ordinary for me, though, I can’t remember the last time I finished something. I mean actually finished something.

Damn…

Either way, I’m back, for the umpteenth time, I might add. Hate to sound like a broken record but has to be said.

Sigh…

So, what’s new, what’s happening here on wordpress. I see the design has changed somewhat, The annoying “Go Premium” is still there on the top, mocking me. I will never ‘go premium’ so to speak, The blue mark on the sleek black design humbles me. The new post tab still has that yummy chocolaty feel to it that I love. Just ready to be sunk into.

I’ve missed this, this tap and click of the keyboard. Nothing beats the satisfaction of a good solid post.

What’s new with me? you ask, why thank you for caring. I’ve been busy, Graduated college, a month ago. Attending a university now, learning arabic, so that’s nice.

Its raining outside, Not one of those measly barely registered ones, the two year olds running around shitless kind of rain. The kind they make special effects out of. I love rain though. Nothing deep or anything just that If you live in the kind of heat I live, you learn to love it.

Oh! and you’ll be seeing some poems I’ve been writing (hopefully). I’m a sucker for rhymes so none of those non rhythmic stuff.

I’m beat.


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It’s a Maybe

So maybe I haven’t been the most devoted writer in the world. Maybe I haven’t been the one good thing to ever happen to the world of blogging. And maybe I haven’t been here since – well – forever. And maybe – just maybe – that’s true. But that doesn’t mean its the end of the world, plenty of people are like that, plenty aren’t. Who’s to say who’s better. Maybe they have a life. Maybe they have better things to do than moon over a keyboard all day and night.

Maybe you’ll object to that, claiming that it doesn’t take much to maintain a blog. Maybe I’ll listen, or maybe I’ll wave away your objections, simply because I can. Maybe I’ll say you don’t know me, you don’t what I’ve been through, you don’t know anything about me! Maybe I’ll throw a tantrum to prove my point, maybe I’ll put a foot through the T.V., bang my head against the wall – and jump off the roof while I’m at it. Or maybe I won’t act like a little bitch. Maybe I’ll listen to what you have to say and think on it. Maybe I’ll turn my life around and become a better man, a better son, a better brother, a better father to the son I may or may not have. And maybe I’ll stop beating the wife I haven’t married. Maybe I’ll listen. Maybe I’ll start a charity for gorillas with one leg, gain worldwide recognition and become the hero I was always meant to be. Who’s is to say, maybe you’re right …

But then again, maybe I just don’t give a shit.

I do. I do.

Give a shit that is. Don’t believe me? I’ll have to set up a cam – or a recording? Your choice …

All else aside, it has been a while, though that’s putting it mildly …

Half an year.

I’ll take a moment to think on that … maybe …

Or an hour.

Or a week.

Or another half an year.

Either way, its a maybe …


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Homecoming

He lowered himself gently. The deep throne welcomed him. He allowed himself a sigh of satisfaction- something he had missed. His body shivered ever so slightly at the cold touch. A profound sense of regret engulfed him. Resonating. A clenching pang of pain in his chest – almost physical. For it had indeed been a long time- yes a long time indeed, since he had been here, among these people.

Ah, the people, his gaze swept over them. The effect: overwhelming. Such colorful people. Such colorful lives. He had missed these people. For they were dear, loved even. Like another family. He had always thought of himself as a pessimist. But the thoughts swirling around in his head were anything but.

He cleared his throat, wondering where to begin. It was the wondering that took the longest, as he was warned it would. Again, he cleared his throat, “-Uhm -uhm” in hopes that this will light a spark. The attentiveness this generated was even more unsettling. He fidgeted a bit before finally parting his lips,

“I would like to say that I’m back, for what it’s worth. I’ve missed this. More than I imagined possible. But I’m back. Though you may not consider me bound, I do. Consequently, the guilt I feel is profound, genuine even. I cannot put it into words, though I must try. This may sound childish, but it is true. I’m sorry.”

His words were heartfelt. A rare thing- that. It was what most appealed to them- the people. They accepted it. Quietly, gently, without a word.

And he was thankful for it.