There’s no originality in the title. I agree. As words form sentences hereafter, it becomes more hazy as why am I doing this than doing anything else. In the course I am also presenting my set of reasons to find a place in virtuality. The sense of “am I doing something great?” has always crossed my mind. Bereft of any pursuable vocations and most of the time in a crude primordial seizure of multi-tasking, (“One thing at a time” is a non-existent figment of an anonymous writer’s fable) the vocation of publishing a commentary never was a serious thought. Recording my personal memoirs or “Diary writing” was a risky proposition… I was too scared of being honest…and was extremely prone to violent shivers and trembles as I visualized my closest friends guffawing over my flights of fantasy. I could not surmount the barrier of self-publishing. My fantasy was still about giving sound bytes to earnest journalists who surround me while they jostle and heckle each other to capture ...
Year round, month round, week round, day round and the second starting now, it is crap all around. Dimensions of this element vary on how much you can see it. From attitudes to beliefs, characters to symbols, everything is being done for something else - often it is not said, and more than often, it is a subterfuge.To unravel the mysteries of this element, as I see it, is the intention of this pastime activity. For an extremely cynical ad executive, the blog world has called out. Crapediem!