Crystals

Why is it infinitely easier to write pointless fillers than anything serious? Okay, not that I am going to analyze the socio-economic problems posed by the relaxation of immigration policy or the correlation of MTV and consumerism in the late 20th century youth. Neither do I have the readership of Mr Brown or xiaxue despite my best efforts to promote readership of my blog by constantly bugging my friends and listing my url on my friendster (not that my 20 friends there would ever result in any form of avalanche in my hits) hence I don't have fans to please or anything like that. Not that the anticipated readers of this blog would need much bibilography with my thinly veiled references to events in my life anyway considering the whine-fest I had subjected my friends to lately.

See what I mean? Without being conscious of it I have written one line of my intended post and tons of fillers. Anyway, back to the point before I go on another irrelevant tangent, its more natural for me to spout rubbish than any semblance of sense. Take for example this time Ling called me and asked an innocent question "what are you doing?" Even though I was in the office pretending to work, somehow I stumbled and stuttered through my answer as though I was called upon to justify some million dollar mistake I made. Then she just went "Huh? What's wrong with you" and like snapping out of a trance I promptly replied "Nothing much, I am now thinking of you and how much I long to see your sweet face and listen to the gentle sound of your voice". Just like that, nonsense just comes to me naturally where a simple answer would have sufficed.

When it comes to the crunch, the buzzer beater when push comes to shove, I freeze. FREEZE. Imagine a band playing and when it's time for the guitar solo, instead of launching away, the lead guitarist proceeds to tune his guitar and all you hear is "da, da, da, da, da" and starts to do some scales to warm up and then tune some more. That kind of thing. This is what comes to mind when I think of my futile attempts at conveying certain thoughts.

Like now, I had intended to talk about something else, I have been dancing around the theme the way a boxer circles his opponent. For me, I have only been feinting and nary a jab has been thrown let alone any uppercuts or swings. Oh well, since this is the case, let it be. Ciao.