My abstract explanations

Half past midnight and I am searching for words. Bear with my nervousness for I feel like a novice writer subjected to my readers' critique. Here I go.

I made my latest commitment of regulating tasks that would basically keep me steadfast in my continuance. Simply put, I am going to do more than watch the Food Network: I will again share my thoughts with articulation.

I've asked myself many times over the many months that I've been stagnant the one question: Do I still know how to write? I was almost sure the ink that fueled the once poignant vein that ran through my acumen had dried up. And even as my mind wandered and pondered about all the available imagery that would simply entice and inspire me to be expressive enough to write, I had loafed and frittered away. Caring people who have kept track of my transcript and attestation through my blogs inquired and encouraged. I've replied with authentic reasons, all circumstantial to the eventful decision, thus relocation, therefore a transition. Resulting, my interest in arts and letters were tucked in the folds and layers of my overwhelming predicament and acumen. Casually, I preoccupied myself with excuses. I was plainly floating in obliviousness.

Somehow even-tempered and stable in my bearings now, I still feel the occasional shake and thunder of uncertainty. I am still nervous and anxious of days to come, yet unwavering in my dream of a solid, synonymous pursuit of living. There will continue the assorted comings and goings, traffic and bugging people, the subscription to cable network television, and my daily excuses. But I will also be determined. Hell has no fury for a writer scatterbrained.

All circumstances leading, for as long as my wits are able, and with enough battery power to sustain my laptop, I will write.

It is now half past 2 in the morning.

Don't stop thinking about tomorrow,
Don't stop, it'll soon be here,
It'll be, better than before,
Yesterday's gone, yesterday's gone.
... don't you look back, don't you look back.
- Fleetwood Mac

Gone no more

I need to get back!

I've missed myself penning down all the many encounters with strangers, those bewildering and original events only I have mindfully immersed my thoughts in. This short and unabashed manuscription will have to be the signifying "shove" of pen into paper, fingers on keyboard, blog on blogsite.

My gratitude goes to Victoria for even her seemingly amiss phone calls, the Reflections site - not to mention the intriguing photos with THE "Italian" - conjured me to do what I've loved (and lazied into) doing.

My blogs will be back. Borrowed quotes will re-emerge. Watch me tackle life once again.

Old soldiers never die; they just fade away.

I shall return.

- Gen. Douglas MacArthur