Felt like I hadn't posted anything in a long time, got that itchy feeling that you get when you want to write something but you're not sure what it is that you want to write. Some people call that a writer's block, I think.
Anyway, so I found these drafts that I never finished, some are as old as this blog itself. One of these has a half story that takes off on a depressing tangent from Bobby McGee, another has some random rant while this other draft talks about my astonishment at where one year at college went, and yet another has something whimsically ridiculous. (You know, tandoori jokes types. And if you don't know what tandoori jokes are, well, some people would say you're lucky. BUT YOU'RE NOT. Now, where was I? Oh yeah.) Hmm. It's like having an argument. You want to say a lot of things when you're pissed off, but give it 5 minutes and then you rethink, and maybe mellow down your tone or discard the idea of rebutting whatever it was that you thought needed rebuttal. (Brevity really isn't my thing, is it? Neither are analogies I guess, no?)
Thing is, I don't know if I could ever finish any of those drafts. But I won't get rid of them either, part of me still thinks I would get around and finish these pieces and maybe they'll turn out a tad more than OK. But then this is the same part of me that wanted to learn guitar, speak German and finish off the tiny bag I stitched for myself on a Sunday in second year. (No really, I did. Ask Juthika. She finished her bag, btw. Hey, mine only has a handle-strap left, okay?)
Yeah, that's about all I had to say, I suppose. (Post for post's sake, this feels like. I should stop talking in broken English.)
PS. Heh, I could be a female JD from Scrubs! (That would be great, right? Although I think there are way too many people who've said this about themselves, sounds wannabe-like than an honest observation. Right, I should sleep. Maybe a critical version of JD.)