Dear diary,

Just like that, another month has passed. And I ask myself again what took me so long to type out a new entry. I love writing, and if I were to wake up one day illiterate the sudden loss of my emotional outlet would probably kill me. Yet does love equate passion? If they were indeed inseparate, why did I lose the urge to blog in favour of other activities that piqued my interest? This harmless seduction satiated a transient desire which in turn compromised my fidelity. Then again, does it really?

I see my blog as a literal representation of my thoughts, my emotions and my ideals. And sometimes my mind shuts the world out, as with everyone from time to time. Other times I resent the idea of blogging when I have nothing of value to share, being someone I coin a "charlatan writer". And well, the last one being laziness. This time however, it might have been a combination of all three.

Plainly put, I was just too lazy to blog. Lazy to dramatize my petty existence with bombastic words and ambiguous sentences designed to mislead readers. Lazy to share my antisocial lifestyle for the past month. Lazy to explain my antisocial lifestyle for the past month if I had shared it. More importantly, lazy to rationalize the sheer laziness of not even attempting the abovementioned.

On hindsight it probably showed a fallible and weak strength of character, if not more. And prudence would dictate a more guileful method of execution as opposed to what I am laying bare right now. No, this is not a call for readers to start rallying hate campaigns against me. I'm too gutless to place myself in the uncomfortable situation of public discontentment anyway. All I wanna say is: I love you people. And I'm sure all of you can understand where I'm coming from. (Remember, this is not to allay the negative vibes that I'm feeling right now, nor issit a plea for everyone's continued support for this blog.)

That being said and having cleared the air, I shall stop. For now. Before things get out of hand.