My Mumbles

Blogging has lost its lustre but I will still blog on. I had half a mind to do a blogging swan song and take a bow out from the scene but I would probably miss it. If I'd actually quit blogging, I'd go cold turkey on the bloghopping too so I'd probably lose touch with many of the nice bloggers I've gotten to know. I wouldn't like that. I want friends. Not enemies.

Speaking of which, I am sure people wonder at the turn of events which involve a certain controversial blogger. A certain nemesis of the vast majority. A rumoured Cruella DeVille of the blogging world and some other parallel universe. A Miss Anna Martina. I can hear the pitchforks grinding the gravel now...............

I have forgiven this raven-haired harlot. She has actually apologized. A rare thing from this proud person.

For what it's worth, I do not keep grudges in my heart and wrongdoings in my mind. I shamlessly gossip with vigour and bitch with distaste but I hold the world harmless if you do not want to harm me. That is my stance and it extends to me and my little space here in the blogging world.

Words are nothing but vibrated air, written lines or typed sentences. To regulate the world from saying what they want is impossible. To anticipate the public's speech bubbles is moot. We, as public journal writers who write with our hearts on our sleeves, are now in a position to arm ourselves defensively against the sharpest of words from each other and be highly strung all the time, blogging for the pleasure of the public and not for ourselves. Or we can just disarm ourselves of it all and let the sharp words bounce off us like blunt, rubber arrows shot blindly as we blog happily till the cows come home. I chose the latter. Easier to live that way. I've had people say the most horrid things about me before in my life but at the end of the day, I validate myself. I do not need to answer to anyone. I do not need to defend myself for anything. So if I find a tag somewhere in this blogging wilderness that defames me (So far none! I'm quite loved!Woohoo!), I'd say farkit. And farkit good. No disclaimers on sidebars. No defensive blogposts. No change in my style of writing. Nothing. Just farkit.

So farkit. Bloody hell farkit all.

*and Raihan the Angel with the Golden Wings flies away into the night, puts Amy her Notebook of Shadows on standby and prepares herself for slumber, all in tune with the melodic sounds of harps and drrrrty porn in the background*

Fade to black.

Cut.