Whenever I start working on my blog I end up wasting a good couple of hours on something which I am not even sure someone will ever bother reading. Plus its not that fussing over what I write adds to the quality of the output. At the most, a few more grammatical mistakes would be sorted out and thats about it. The flow of the words is spontaneous and either its there or it is not. So this just turns out to be an attempt to turn out a post within a half-hour.
I cannot really determine for sure why do I continue contributing to a rarely visited nook on the vastness that is the Internet . Is it to stifle a sense of guilt for what I really want to do versus what I am actually doing for a living? Or is it that like thousands of other 'secret' authors I am really giving vent to my literary skills knowing fully well that I don't actually want to subject it to public scrutiny. A journal of sorts which gives me the freedom to write what I want to, be it original or cliched without feeling the pain of having it told to my face that its good, but not really special. Hardly confidence boosting, this post is turning out to be. But at least, by winding this up right now, I am assuring myself that I can indeed cook up a quick-fix entry for my blog without losing too much hair over its obvious lack of content!
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