The past few days I’ve been disinclined towards blogging. I’ve met such wonderful people through blogging but now that blogging is not my only link to the great minds of the blogging world, I’m somewhat adverse to blogging. In his childhood memoirs, Words, Sartre remarks that each time he writes a book, he feels it’s better than the last then he gets ready to disown it. He claims it to be a familiar experience for all writers. I’m not a writer, too much expectation attached to that one, I prefer language practitioner simply for its bafflement inducing potential. I haven’t thought about my blog as better than anything else I’ve done, I haven’t done enough to make such a comparison, but I am wishing this blog away. I’m writing this in an effort to understand why.
I don’t like using my blog as an angstologist, if I did, I’d be at about two hundred posts already. There, I’m starting to feel better about blogging already.
Don’t flatter yourself that friendship authorizes you to say disagreeable things to your intimates. The nearer you come into relation with a person, the more necessary do tact and courtesy become. Oliver Wendell Holmes