Saturday, September 02, 2006
Apologetic Soliloquy
a·pol·o·gy (?-p?l'?-j?)
1. An acknowledgment expressing regret or asking pardon for a fault or offense.
2. 1. A formal justification or defense. 2. An explanation or excuse.
3. An inferior substitute.
Dear desolate blog of mine, dear forsaken readers of this blog, have you all been wondering O'Arabian Prince, where art thou?
The truth is I'm here. I've always been here. It shouldn't be too hard to take in the rest of this entry if your listening to Cesaria Evora's Tango to evora. With the nostalgic melody filling the air this paragraph... should come to an end... right about... now.
I don't know why that just happened. It's quite the same when it comes to why I hadn't updated in so long.. in 1416 hours.. or in 59 days. That's almost two whole months. I did not intentionally abandon this place. However I also don't know why it's been so long. If by now you're starting to think that I might've undergone some serious brain surgery which has irreversible effects like amnesia and that I should be seeing a doctor (again) then I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I'm totally fine. ( Not even I would believe me if I just wrote all that crap!)
I suppose I owe an apology to all the visitors to my blog that have been continuously or constantly visiting and finding things the way they are since their last visit. I know what it feels like, but I surely hope that atleast a quarter of whatever number visitors I used to have are still hanging on to that very thin string of hope. Common courtesy suggests kindness and acceptable behaviour at times of recognising ones faults and rectifying them. Hello common courtesy, nice to meet you. That's as kind as I'll be for this post, the rest however is going to be a blunt, jagged and unpredictably random ride. Two main reasons for that: one, I've been away for so long that there's so much on my mind worth mentioning and two, blogging to me now seems like a dusty portrait of the Mona Lisa covered with a huge white cotton cloth sitting in the darkest corners of the attic.
You've got your blog-o-maniacs, your blogging enthusiasts, your average blogger, your minimum-requirements-met type of blogger and then there's me somewhere down the food chain... blog author/writer/blogger wannabe. What you should realise is it's the latter that require the most amount of effort to be put in.
The blog has reached the 80+ posts mark and completed 10+ months since it's first post, and it saddens me that not a single entry was posted from Oman. Although I've only been back once during that period, and it was only for a measly three weeks or so I reckon I should've had the time to update the blog from Oman. My previous entry was actually posted from Dubai during a week long break there. Skip a couple of days... Italy won the world cup. France played very well, they deserved to win it too. I believe Italy was lucky to have made it to the finals, let alone win the cup. Brazil didn't win, I expected them to play better, but I'll just have to wait for another four years for the sixth star. Unfortunately I haven't gone diving after acquiring my open water license. I'm really looking forward to summer (Australia's summer which is opposite of the rest of the world). I'm contemplating going to Cairns to dive at The Great Barrier Reef after my finals and before leaving back to Oman again.
Skipped the first week of uni just to spend some more time among family and friends, and despite that I still wasn't content with the length of my holiday. I was told by friends and colleagues that I needn't worry about the first week. A three week break? Is that all I get after not having gone back for a whole year? Flickr is updated after a long break too. I didn't stop visiting and reading many of the bloggers/blogs that I usually used to frequent. I must confess, I've been a pain. I pass by, read and leave. Not a single comment. If there's a comment, it's probably a short and spontaneous one. Nobody likes it. They don't know if you visit or not. They don't know if you care or if you're even bothered. Yes, I believe comments say a thing or two you know. It's 7:30am on a Saturday. What am I doing up so late? Oh yeah, I'm heading to the library. Haha, not in a million years. I woke up from one of the weirdest nightmares I've had in quite a while. Infact I don't think I remember my last nightmare. Nightmare is a funny word, it seems like only little kids should use it. It was strikingly frightening, disturbing and incoherent. A severely schizophrenic infant that I had to somehow cure, a possessed kid walking around with a knife, he was always on my case, and towards the very end, my dear grandfather. I suppose the only reason my grandfather was in there, is because I was informed about his arrival from Umra just before I went to sleep. Weird. You think?? Forget the dream. I'm not asking for any interpretation whatsoever. Only reason I'm saying that is because it's happened previously.
It's quite amazing what this guy can do with sand (youtube link). I've seen it several times before and I still don't mind seeing it again.
أستسمحك عذرا سيدتي لبنان! My heart goes out to all the Lebanese people at such times of immeasurable sorrow. Sayyed Hassan NasrAllah. Hizbollah. Names to be forever etched into history for their defying feats. The days that the Israeli nation was once concieved as a mighty force to be reckoned with sieze to exist. Atleast for Hizbollah they do. George Galloway. A name I've learnt to like.
Ever since I've been back to uni, I've been under so much pressure. So much to take in, so much to study and so much to work on in such little time. To be honest, that's another reason I was kept away from the net. I really needed to set my priorities, and that was a good start. Still need to work on my priorities list a bit. Nothing unattainable. My crap-o-meter, one of my many disfunctional cognitive stimuli, is kindly asking me to stop here.
I leave you with
1. An acknowledgment expressing regret or asking pardon for a fault or offense.
2. 1. A formal justification or defense. 2. An explanation or excuse.
3. An inferior substitute.
Dear desolate blog of mine, dear forsaken readers of this blog, have you all been wondering O'Arabian Prince, where art thou?
The truth is I'm here. I've always been here. It shouldn't be too hard to take in the rest of this entry if your listening to Cesaria Evora's Tango to evora. With the nostalgic melody filling the air this paragraph... should come to an end... right about... now.
I don't know why that just happened. It's quite the same when it comes to why I hadn't updated in so long.. in 1416 hours.. or in 59 days. That's almost two whole months. I did not intentionally abandon this place. However I also don't know why it's been so long. If by now you're starting to think that I might've undergone some serious brain surgery which has irreversible effects like amnesia and that I should be seeing a doctor (again) then I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I'm totally fine. ( Not even I would believe me if I just wrote all that crap!)
I suppose I owe an apology to all the visitors to my blog that have been continuously or constantly visiting and finding things the way they are since their last visit. I know what it feels like, but I surely hope that atleast a quarter of whatever number visitors I used to have are still hanging on to that very thin string of hope. Common courtesy suggests kindness and acceptable behaviour at times of recognising ones faults and rectifying them. Hello common courtesy, nice to meet you. That's as kind as I'll be for this post, the rest however is going to be a blunt, jagged and unpredictably random ride. Two main reasons for that: one, I've been away for so long that there's so much on my mind worth mentioning and two, blogging to me now seems like a dusty portrait of the Mona Lisa covered with a huge white cotton cloth sitting in the darkest corners of the attic.
You've got your blog-o-maniacs, your blogging enthusiasts, your average blogger, your minimum-requirements-met type of blogger and then there's me somewhere down the food chain... blog author/writer/blogger wannabe. What you should realise is it's the latter that require the most amount of effort to be put in.
The blog has reached the 80+ posts mark and completed 10+ months since it's first post, and it saddens me that not a single entry was posted from Oman. Although I've only been back once during that period, and it was only for a measly three weeks or so I reckon I should've had the time to update the blog from Oman. My previous entry was actually posted from Dubai during a week long break there. Skip a couple of days... Italy won the world cup. France played very well, they deserved to win it too. I believe Italy was lucky to have made it to the finals, let alone win the cup. Brazil didn't win, I expected them to play better, but I'll just have to wait for another four years for the sixth star. Unfortunately I haven't gone diving after acquiring my open water license. I'm really looking forward to summer (Australia's summer which is opposite of the rest of the world). I'm contemplating going to Cairns to dive at The Great Barrier Reef after my finals and before leaving back to Oman again.
Skipped the first week of uni just to spend some more time among family and friends, and despite that I still wasn't content with the length of my holiday. I was told by friends and colleagues that I needn't worry about the first week. A three week break? Is that all I get after not having gone back for a whole year? Flickr is updated after a long break too. I didn't stop visiting and reading many of the bloggers/blogs that I usually used to frequent. I must confess, I've been a pain. I pass by, read and leave. Not a single comment. If there's a comment, it's probably a short and spontaneous one. Nobody likes it. They don't know if you visit or not. They don't know if you care or if you're even bothered. Yes, I believe comments say a thing or two you know. It's 7:30am on a Saturday. What am I doing up so late? Oh yeah, I'm heading to the library. Haha, not in a million years. I woke up from one of the weirdest nightmares I've had in quite a while. Infact I don't think I remember my last nightmare. Nightmare is a funny word, it seems like only little kids should use it. It was strikingly frightening, disturbing and incoherent. A severely schizophrenic infant that I had to somehow cure, a possessed kid walking around with a knife, he was always on my case, and towards the very end, my dear grandfather. I suppose the only reason my grandfather was in there, is because I was informed about his arrival from Umra just before I went to sleep. Weird. You think?? Forget the dream. I'm not asking for any interpretation whatsoever. Only reason I'm saying that is because it's happened previously.
It's quite amazing what this guy can do with sand (youtube link). I've seen it several times before and I still don't mind seeing it again.
أستسمحك عذرا سيدتي لبنان! My heart goes out to all the Lebanese people at such times of immeasurable sorrow. Sayyed Hassan NasrAllah. Hizbollah. Names to be forever etched into history for their defying feats. The days that the Israeli nation was once concieved as a mighty force to be reckoned with sieze to exist. Atleast for Hizbollah they do. George Galloway. A name I've learnt to like.
Ever since I've been back to uni, I've been under so much pressure. So much to take in, so much to study and so much to work on in such little time. To be honest, that's another reason I was kept away from the net. I really needed to set my priorities, and that was a good start. Still need to work on my priorities list a bit. Nothing unattainable. My crap-o-meter, one of my many disfunctional cognitive stimuli, is kindly asking me to stop here.
I leave you with
All around me are familiar faces
Worn out places
Worn out faces
Bright and early for the daily races
Going no where
Going no where
Their tears are filling up their glasses
No expression
No expression
Hide my head I wanna drown my sorrow
No tomorrow
No tomorrow
And I find it kind of funny
I find it kind of sad
The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had
I find it hard to tell you
I find it hard to take
When people run in circles it's a very very
Mad world
Mad world
Children waiting for the day they feel good
Happy birthday
Happy birthday
Made to feel the way that every child should
Sit and listen
Sit and listen
Went to school and I was very nervous
No one knew me
No one knew me
Hello teacher tell me what's my lesson
Look right through me
Look right through me
And I find it kind of funny
I find it kind of sad
The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had
I find it hard to tell you
I find it hard to take
When people run in circles it's a very very
Mad world
Mad world
Enlarging your world
Mad world
Worn out places
Worn out faces
Bright and early for the daily races
Going no where
Going no where
Their tears are filling up their glasses
No expression
No expression
Hide my head I wanna drown my sorrow
No tomorrow
No tomorrow
And I find it kind of funny
I find it kind of sad
The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had
I find it hard to tell you
I find it hard to take
When people run in circles it's a very very
Mad world
Mad world
Children waiting for the day they feel good
Happy birthday
Happy birthday
Made to feel the way that every child should
Sit and listen
Sit and listen
Went to school and I was very nervous
No one knew me
No one knew me
Hello teacher tell me what's my lesson
Look right through me
Look right through me
And I find it kind of funny
I find it kind of sad
The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had
I find it hard to tell you
I find it hard to take
When people run in circles it's a very very
Mad world
Mad world
Enlarging your world
Mad world