The first step, all over again.
Every now and then, I feel the need to blog. Almost always, it means that I would be starting over. Every single fucking time, I fail at keeping up with it, leave and lie low until another desperate calling forces me to build towards another failure. This time, however, I am hopeful that my attempt would last longer and sound more intelligent than the otherwise masturbatingly personal bullshit I might have churned out before. Mainly, because I think that now I really have something to write about. I am going out more, this year has been remarkable, met so many new people, made so many new friends, got out of college, got a job, had a terribly enthralling shift in my world view, had friggin' 57 nervous breakdowns and lived to smile feverishly, afterwards; Not to mention coming strikingly close to a career change and tottering over the hem presently. It hasn't exactly been a rollercoaster ride (had it been, you would have been invited to my cremation by now) but one of those crazy Disney rides where you get splashed by a whole lot of water in the end and you feel so high that you fail to differentiate the puke on your shirt from the water. It has been an unkind, marvellous year and I want to write about it!
Write about the freethinkers I have befriended, write about the sprawling brilliant evening sky in Islamabad, the commmute to work and back, the people in the wagon, who stink and are hardworking and have stories so miserably enchanting that even Scheherezade would be jealous. About the girl who walks the floor dragging her feet as if the screeching of her shoes is music for tiny ears on feeble hearts. About the cataclysmic rebellion that is building so steadily inside and the absolute mad-house farce that is surrounding us at present! It feels good to be doing this again and although I know I would end up throwing the same puberty shit at the web, I know it that I do not care. As Bart would say, "Eat my shorts"!
