The Author



Dei Gratia (by the grace of God)




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Epilogue


My Personal DNA Report

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Acknowledgements

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Do You Still Come Here?
Monday, April 07, 2008

Just in case you weren't aware, I'm so sorry to inform you that this blog is dead.

The author, however, is not, so you may contact her if you like (assuming you have the means to do that).

*      *      *

It is always sad to have things come to an end. I don't think anyone ever starts off thinking that they'll reach the reluctant end of something. But I suppose it can't be helped. Life ebbs and flows at its own will, and sometimes you just need to let go and realise that you've passed a point of no return. That try as you might, you cannot go backwards, neither can you move forward without knowing that you have to leave some things behind.

I must admit to you that in many ways I am scared, and also clueless about what my future holds. I spent the last year or so just getting used to the idea that I can no longer predict with much certainty what's coming and that I have to learn to be content in this state. I cope with it much better now. In this way, I take everything that comes as a surprise... you just wait to see what unfolds, and then adjust accordingly to brace yourself for it.

I must say, in retrospect, that I believe I am not the same person I used to be, so in some ways, having means to distinguish who I was then to who I am now helps me feel better about myself and more well defined. So in some perhaps seemingly "violent" ways, I have changed and readjusted some of the things in my life. My online presence being one.

If you do care to look, you will still find me. It's not like I disposed completely of the idea of blogging. I did try blogging at a number of other spots. But by the time you read this, I've probably given it up altogether, after failing to come up with any significantly satisfying posts for so long.

While I'm at being honest, I must admit I miss a lot of things. As much as part of my desires for my working life did come true, there are so many other things that I value much more that I wish would sort themselves out. But even if I were to wish myself back into the past seasons of my life - particularly my student days - I know that it would not be all that glamourous to re-live those times as I'd like to think.

So many seasons were fraught with difficulties, and disappointments, and pain. I know to some of you I sound like I keep harping on certain issues, certain experiences, but some things really were tough to live through. I only wish I could say with greater confidence that there will be a happy ending to it all. But the truth is, I don't really know.

I've come to this point in life where I find I've witnessed a lot of hopes and dreams just fizzle out and die. It's not to say I don't have good stuf going on right now, but it's just that many times I just stop and think and realise how never in my wildest dreams had I imagined things would turn out the way they have. I view this in both a good and also a bad sense. Good in a sense that some things I don't deserve came my way. Bad in a sense that some things I wished for slipped out of my hands.

I know I'm rambling a lot here, but it's probably because this is more like the kind of ending I wanted to give my blog. Right now, writing here again for this one last time feels like visiting the final resting place of an old, good friend. The friend who gave me a voice and company in the late night hours when there was no one to talk to, the friend who gave me identity and made others perhaps respect me a little more (for the thoughts and messages I had to convey), the friend who made me look good, the friend who gave me that little optimistic edge to pull me through so many dark moments in my life.

Writing gives the same comfort as eating your favourite food, or nestling yourself at your most treasured hideaway spot. It gives you a place to belong. It helps you find who you are. And it provides you an avenue to speak out what's in your heart to whoever's listening. I believe every writer leaves traces of themselves all over their writing, like fingerprints of sorts. Marks of who they are, what they wish they could be. They paint a world as how they see it through their eyes, and hope that someone else will join them in admiring the scenery.

I had always wished I could earn a living as a writer. I used to dream about writing scripts for movies or TV shows or stageplays. Publishing a novel. Writing reqular columns in magazines or newspapers. Having a website that people visited often, and that had many comments and won the interest of many readers. I'm not sure if that'll ever happen. But I was glad for awhile that I could share some things with you guys and gals who used to come accompany me here in this blog.

I have to go now. I won't be back, at least not here. Don't miss me. Just find ways to be with me. I would certainly do my part of the deal. And now as I end let me say this: Luv y'all. Really really really.

Ciaos.




virtuousGal sang the blues at 05:33 am




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