"Truth that's told with bad intent Beats all the Lies you can invent."
After a long hiatus, I shall try to incorporate blogging once again into my life. There are so many things to say, to write, and to gripe about but everytime I would open my blog and start typing, the words and sentences always end up in the draft mode.
Most of the time, you develop the passion for writing when inspiration hits you like a brick to the head. These are the days when you are sad, euphoric, excited, frustrated, or mad. Extremes in neurotransmitters controlling the limbic system (a.k.a. the seat of emotions) are usually the trigger points of which one takes up the pen to write the literary hemorrhage being formed in his or her mind.
However, in these past few years, I end up pouring my soul towards another medium- the journal. People with an IQ of tree-monkeys will not understand the logic and impracticability why I chose some antediluvian Moleskine-like medium over the newest technological convenience of blogging. Simple. There are just so many thoughts that cannot be posted here in my blog- my frustrations, my hopes, my dreams, my "what if"s, my anger, my sorrow, etc. It then becomes too damn depressing and embarrassing to read all the dirty linen in cyberspace. While it is true that blogging liberated me into dipping my pen into the inkwell of literary passion, it has also shackled me into the topics of which I write. Most bloggers would agree in varying degrees. Many would restrict their writings to the most inconsequential, be it in the form of book reviews, food critique or everyday mundane stuff. With a journal, no social boundary can keep you from writing what you really really feel.
I was once tempted to write about my relatives from both sides of the fence with the glaring title, "Relative Hypocrisy", but after reading my draft, I decided for fear of irreversible repercussions that the article may bring, I concluded that it was not worth the trouble and shelved it permanently. Same holds true for the rest of the human race of which I had the privilege of meeting in some way or another. In the end, even if I would feel better venting out all my angst here like a bad case of literary diarrhea, I know full well that this site has been marked for public consumption and there is a chance that some of these "characters" I write about may end up reading sordid details about them. In the end, the journal remains the best solution for such type of entry. And I completely agree.