Somehow you make it better

Most of the people who write blogs do so, I gather, either because they are selfish exhibitionist ass-holes who don’t find a soul in the real world to listen to them anymore, or simply because their writing ambitions have been killed off at some point – maybe by the need to earn a “decent” piece of bread, or maybe they thought they were not good enough for the part. I find myself in none of the categories, though maybe some of you who do read me have another opinion. Two years ago, when I started blogging, I was trying to cure an advanced phase of workaholism, which I’m sure hasn’t passed for good. Even now, most of the posts I write are based in some way or the other on my work, although I try not to give out any real names or point to any *real* seeming situations. Most of the times, the posts are some kind of dumb attempts to fix broken things – be it in my life, or in other’s lives. Sometimes, they are even a good replacement for it.

There were evenings when, on returning from either work or getting drunk with friends, I thought that I should finish the blog – just tell you that the fun is over and delete all the posts – but couldn’t help myself not to. In some way, it keeps alive one of the things I’m thinking about doing sometime in future: writing. And so I move on, boat against the current, excelling and finding an own sort of happiness in words never spoken.

A silly girl with silly ways I hear this I'm pitiful
I'll be that girl can you give me the strength to be free

Lifting me I don't know how you do it but it's lifting me
Keep lifting me I don't know how you do it but it's lifting me, yeah
(The Corrs, Lifting Me)