This is the only addiction difficult as a habit. My craving for musing is fast declining into the maze of my daily activities, the event of the new year, homesickness and my financial well-being into tight spot. My elixir of consciousness has not brewed yet such that my appetite for sleep is once again spoiled by few deep thoughts.
I seized my self into believing that this blog will get me to few Dollar or Dirhams well off. I will have to quit this day job if I'm ever going to be soaked into the blogging business. The habit offers a vial of bliss such that, the obsession of having it monetized spoils it like a boring office work you hoped you're working with the envied Google Company.
Blogging. This has somehow, become a habit difficult to break even if time is - tight. I find comfort in it and is now, an addict to impersonal communication like making love to your spouse a thousand miles away over the cable lines except that you need not to dress off. Imagine the convenience it offers; the vanity press of the poor. A cheap and yet complex place of liberal compositions where technical writing is often ousted. You can be flowery and often careless with bare words so long as you like it. Or, you can be concealing so long as you're cautious. We fear our dignity broken like a glass goblet in the hands of a careless child. A careless revelation.
I'll never be able to publish a book. I prefer short lived lines - musings of some sort. I am an undisciplined writer. A rebel. An anti-novel. I'll slam my head into sleep if I read long lines. Perhaps this has something to do with my daily chores at the office. I hated long and un-indented lines of programming codes such that I'll throw away the job to the ones who started it. To have it commented and readable like a short story. Truly essays can not marry technical writings. This blog is a dump-site for my emotional setbacks. It is never a work.
And like a marriage you're having fights too often, I struggle over the construct of my sentences. The panic over the right use of words caused me seconds of pauses. Such that this bulky thesaurus is an Alamo of literary relief. Like a father guiding his child on its first few steps towards a vast walks in life. Little by little, learning drops like tiny molehills of waters that breaks loose - shaping a land.
Oftentimes, I shielded my efforts with the bullies of pictures but aware that it cheapens my message. With an image, a story can become an encyclopedic composition or more like an adult magazine. Our eyes prefer that which is bare and suggestive but our mind is sometimes corrupt and unrestrained. Sins are committed due to unrestrained judgments. Underestimating the power of the words, we forgot that everything was created with the words of the Creator never with a picture. "... and He sees that it was good", the picture came out later.
