Friday, September 28, 2007
Of cheap roti jala and scrumptious murtabak
It’s rather a cliché to start off a long-unupdated blog with a deep long sigh of frustration for leaving the keyboard untouched and thoughts uncrossed. It would then be followed by long lengthy list of what-have-been-dones and what-to-be-dones ; all of which gradually built-up into reasons why we couldn’t blog for some time. As the time of my life as a person who write and talk nineteen to the dozen in the straightforward form of invoking ideas goes, I slowly realized that blogging doesn’t really require perseverance to get it updated on-time (if there are such thing as deadline in blog-writing), unless you are writing about breakdown of 90-minutes action of a football match, where you have to update your blog live every 1 minute, commentating every 60 seconds of play in plain words for 90 minutes – like what those people in’s doing to make fans thousands miles away to feel closer to home of The Kop. It is the matter of whether you have something to say or not if you own a anything-under-the-sun blog which in time could evolve and revolve from sports, political, life, religious discourse and anything within the band of mind provoking subjects like I do. I’m pretty sure that I have written something on writer’s block, a syndrome that allowed bloggers and writers to have some good time resting their pens and keyboards safe and sound, if not resting their ass watching Liverpool thrashed Reading in the 4th Round of Carling Cup, with Fernando Torres proved his long-awaited antics, rounding up the keeper thrice – while getting live-updates; Man Utd got kicked out of the turmoil, and Arsenal emerged as serious title contender, in the wake of their rising hunger-for-success young-guns. Writer’s block? Perhaps, considering I’ve been doing lots of Maths exercises these days, which could put scare to some part of my brain to produce something un-mathematical. Perhaps.

Regrets for being unable to get the blog updated may be a few, but I suppose that I have my reasons if ever I left this blog unupdated. Most probably it would either I don’t have anything to say, or I am mounting up guts to publish my.txt format writings which may cause emotional and intellectual harm to certain people and parties. Or, I am constantly looking for new terms of vulgar and words of profanity to get the ideas crossed more vivid. Intimidating as it may sounds; it may the thing any bloggers would do before publishing their jotters, I am no exception in that sense.

And leaving your blog rusty and dusty is not good if you have serious and loyal readers. You will find your inbox full of why and when you are going to sweep the dust aside and paint the rust over with new post. We owe it to the readers to soldier on and to make their reading a pleasure. I realized that as the person entrusted with the responsibility to look after the readers’ interests in reading this blog, I am touched with the huge build up of this blog’s acceptance by the visitors – given that how serious and stern they sound when I didn’t post new threads. I feel like I have known them for a very long time, even though they only knew me from two or three random inconsequential ramblings. Thanks for your time; for I am sure you would spend even more useful lot of your time flipping through KBSM Sejarah Tingkatan 5 textbook for researched, filtered facts about our country, rather than clicking through buttons of this blog for un-researched, vulgar, unfiltered facts of matters this blog serves. Anyway, thanks again.

There won’t be any juggling if there is no ball to juggle with. It has ambiguous meaning. Go figure.

P.S. Working on my new baby, UCAS.

posted by Izham Ismail at 12:48 pm | Permalink | 2 comments
Monday, September 24, 2007
What started as slight little of hope gradually built up into full scale of ear shattering wailing. So much to do, so much to learn, so much to share at this point of being - the point when people’s immense hope in me shattered to pieces. It is the very point of existence where for the first time I enjoy throwing myself into dreary seclusion and for the first time I purposely chose not to be playing the beautiful game – for I can’t feel the thrill of picking up, kicking, passing and dribbling the ball – and being with company, anymore. A step taken led to disappointments – and a step not taken led to greater disenchantments.

The point where I know I have lots of things to say, the point where I realized there are so much to blog about, but so little of my guts asked me to do so.

May the long-lost bravado find his way back.
posted by Izham Ismail at 3:28 pm | Permalink | 1 comments