Well, what d'you know. It's already October. That's three months since I last blogged. Time flies when you're being a busy Dolly.

Aye, yes, this time the absence cannot be attributed to mere laziness anymore. Quite the contrary. In fact, there has been such a HUGE OPUS of stuff happening, I could write a whole 10-part series, turn into to mini tele-series and then make a movie of it. If they had 24-hour cameras on this little life I live, I promise it would make a very lucrative reality show business that would put all that crap on Channel E to shame.

So the other day I was saying to someone, "Aiyo my blog's died. I haven't written in ages."

She asked why.

So I said, "Well actually, there's LOOOOOOOOADS of really really really juicy stuff to write about but I can't post it up publically."

Why not?

Because it's confidential stuff about people lah.

Like what?

Cannot say larrrr! That's why it's confidential, yo!

So that's how it is. My soap opera shall have to remain under wraps until someone offers me a million pounds to sell the story to the Sun or something equally trashy.

Now that things are almost back on track, I was trying to think of ways to force myself to blog regularly. Kena big big lecture last night already from my father about how my creativity is now dampened because most of my writing is in Dharma and not out there in the commercial world. bleah.

If I have to spend any more of my life writing trite articles about politicians, the infinite benefits of a certain lipstick from this certain brand, the many deep, underlying social commentaries of this piece of art, I.
will.
die.

So.

The halfway house between keeping my "creativity" alive and not having to succumb to the evils of commercial writing is to blog. Even if only 11 people are reading it. So what. I'll read it to myself. Many many times. And that will count for more. So there.