It's been a while since I've had the will or the time to do this, to allow myself to space out, to enjoy time wasted.
I suppose it wouldn't be too far of an extension to blame such mentality for my absence of posting my dear readers - who I'm sure by now are few and far between. But no matter about that, for what is concordance between peers compared to the concordance of the self?
Readers, my blog and life have been been about as dull as a paper on Sociology - dull enough so that I find little satisfaction in writing about it apparently (someone correct my grammar there). Though I have no problems with this, life is like this, and it's something I'm coming to accept. Life has been worth living, don't get me wrong. But life hasn't provided me with ample opportunity to scrap book it. Is this my fault? Am I to blame for my failure to properly grasp the English language? Is it my fault that I time and time again fail to provide content worth reading? Or do I finally accept the fact that there is nothing to talk about, nothing worth having an opinion on.
Osama's dead? Great - pass the sauce thanks. Someone's died from planking? Lovely - but my hot water still needs fixing. And while a David Armstrong might suggest that my behaviour as somewhat selfish and self centered, I beg to differ - but it's something I don't particularly care for. Why have an opinion on something that doesn't concern me? Why do I ought to concern myself with society and the failings and tribulations of humanity? As a flourishing individual, what personal gain do I get from associating myself with problems of people who are just another label to me?
I suppose I'm really sophisticating the already urbane expression "who gives a shit?" But even that question is one I'd have trouble attempting to answer. For it is not up to me to decide who gives a shit, nor is it a matter of mine to discern who gives said shit, for such business is one that I don't particularly care about.
Though let's look at this further for a moment - who gives a shit? -. Why not ask "why give a shit?" That's a question worth answering. Oh, what better amelioration for the self than the perennial past time of self inspection and analysis? What better way to reconcile oneself - to fine tune the strings of our existence - than to pursue epistemological greatness in oneself?
But now let's suppose that the answer is no - I don't give a said shit. What then. Is this acceptable? Or are the underlying reasons for not giving a shit also of importance? Perhaps this is an question I'm not yet capable to answer.
Let us however, return to the original contentions.
- I have not been active in blogging.
- I blame this on my inability to find something blog worthy.
Am I going through a phase shift? I don't know, and I don't particularly care for that matter, for what is wrong in joyriding? Let's say I'm not going through a phase shift, and my contentment in silence is a characteristic that holds more water than the current state of bin Laden (zing!) - what could this mean?
Well for one thing, it may mean that every post from now one will be more enriching and beneficial to mental health - or it may mean I may be dead.
In any event, something I miss posting here is music. So here are some fine selections straight from my iTunes library - enjoy!
Zebra - Beach House
Campus - Vampire Weekend
Stand by - Captain Phoenix.
Parachute - Shugo Tokumaru
Having said that - I like my music loud, but I like my silence louder.
Take care readers!
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