Cobwebs and dust settle in my loft

Oh yes! *slaps forehead* I am the rabid fan of Xena's! heh heh.

*drool* .. *salivates* .. *wheeze wheeze*

:P

*****
It's a long story. Xena's was the second blog I read. One fine day, dear little Hammie told me to get myself a blog. I didn't even know there were such things as blogs, that there was a world out there. I used to have a nice little webpage, now defunct, of course, and it was quite fun doing it. So I was introduced to blogging, but it didn't really catch when I first started.

And it was mainly because it seemed so boring, and useless to have a blog.

Till I read Xena's ... and was inspired. And the third blog I read was Re-mi's. :P

And I've always felt that I am more of a reader, than a writer. And these two writers are really good at what they write. And it was kinda inspiring, and motivating. To read ... and perhaps to write.

And so I shall be the rabid fan. :P

*****
None of my friends do blog. I mentioned to them about blogging, but none was interested in taking it up. I guess it can be kinda dull if you are the only one blogging and no one else you know does it. Perhaps that's where one makes new friends, but it's still kind of intimidating to be blogging alone. Sometimes I wish some of my friends would blog, and it would be interesting to exchange reads and such, but I guess that is not in their interest. It's kind of like ... sad, I guess. Perhaps I might have given up on blogging if I had not read those two really good ones. Who knows ya?

Only Min from amongst my friends read my blog. But she doesn't comment, not does she really get involved. Except when sometimes when we meet she'll drop some stuffs about what I wrote about, and it always surprises me, because it is so damn strange, to hold a conversation about what one writes about in one's blog.

Hell, I don't even remember everything I write! heh.

And there was once, an old friend dropped a comment on my blog, and that was a really big surprise/shock. I don't think he reads my blog anymore. Thank goodness. Perhaps one day I shall write a little nasty things about him. I felt like doing that once but held back. :P heh heh heh.

Sometimes I wish I could revamp my whole blog to look like my little webpage. That brings back nice memories. I tried to re-do the template, but got stuck. Never did graduate from java and all that, only basic html. And basically I can't quite be bothered, I guess ... because blogs here don't go very far either, and I guess perhaps because those friends I have don't do blogs either.

For me, it's all about inspiration. It's all about trying to keep in touch with some friends I once had, who had slowly moved out of my social circle. Sometimes I do miss them a little, and wonder what they are doing. But nowadays I am so busy myself, that I can't quite be bothered to try to get in touch with them anymore.

Because they don't care ... and you stopped caring too.

*****
Once upon a time, a friend told me he was very grateful that we always made an effort to call him whenever he came back, and if not for us, he would have lost this tenacious friendship we had. I guess it's more Min and YS than me, for I might or might not have bothered. Now, I don't bother to keep abreast of this friendship anymore for it's not something really worth keeping.

Whenever Xel came back, I always made an effort to call her or she would to me. Now that she's working, when was the last time we spoke?

And to be very honest, I am tired of always being the one making the first move. My number has not changed. Call me if you want. I guess I have changed.

Perhaps when I have my house-warming, I shall make the effort to contact all those friends I had, and would like to see. Sometimes I missed the younger days, when we would play role-playing fantasy games together, have our chess/mahjong gatherings and food sessions. I do miss those days sometimes, but everyone moves apart sooner or later.

A little sigh doth escape into the air, but it's too soft to echo. Just a little sadness at the loss of good company and friends, but not sad enough for it wasn't too important. Memories that linger at the edge of the periphery, not too distinct to be able to catch and reel them in. Things of the past, shrouded in cobwebs, hidden behind the thick whiteness; vague, misty and slowly forgotten.

To write for a memory, to type for remembrance.