Until justice rolls down like water and righteousness like a mighty stream.
―
Martin Luther King Jr.
I have decided to write my first blog post in preparation for my exams on what we call "World Politics" - which will happily commence in 6 hours. This is after 3 months of putting aside Operation Return to Blogging, or rather, 2 years on from more frivolous "feeling" forms of blogging, in favor of less embarrassing and less agonizing activities in my dull life. Now, I merely follow the same rule of thumb to cast aside something - the exam - that is marginally more unbearable than blogging. Both involve the consuming enterprise of writing, which I dread with a disturbing degree of anxiety. I identify keenly with Dorothy Parker's "I hate to write, I love to have written" (and has anyone else winced at how regrettably her name undermines her work?).
To write is to reaffirm existence, someone has surely once said, so this is what I now endeavor to do: live a little more, exist a little more ardently, and fear mortality a little more poetically.
I didn't get around to talking about my intended topic - humanitarian intervention, human rights, and organized hypocrisy - as my starting quote suggested. Practical considerations, such as my examination, have been politely knocking on the cerebral door and I must answer the call.
Perhaps this shall be "a thing": having misleading or utterly irrelevant titles to my posts.
This, I believe, was the other part of blogging that I was mortally afraid of: disappointing readers and therefore making a fool of oneself. Yet this puddle of humiliation is considerably more sufferable than the eviscerating disgrace that is having no readership, which is also conveniently impossible with the presence of a single, even disgruntled, reader.
Perhaps this shall be "a thing": having misleading or utterly irrelevant titles to my posts.
This, I believe, was the other part of blogging that I was mortally afraid of: disappointing readers and therefore making a fool of oneself. Yet this puddle of humiliation is considerably more sufferable than the eviscerating disgrace that is having no readership, which is also conveniently impossible with the presence of a single, even disgruntled, reader.
I've set out with a first post, my hate of writing, and the trepidation with which I will journey further into this digitized realm of self-articulation. All very good achievements, I hope (to think). So perhaps it is alright that I end this post here.
