As it strokes well past half three in the morning, I find myself thinking about the last time I would have been running out of the house to seven eleven in the middle of the night to pick up cigarettes. I'm pretty sure this was a fairly regular occurrence when I was about sixteen and my crew of four would hang out at J's place listening to Sonic Youth, smoking cigarettes and talking about alternative music and the importance of love. Those were some days. Before grass. Before sex. Before we realised that we weren't actually in love at all. Some might say those days were innocent but they seemed gritty and life or death at the time.
I've taken some time away from blogging and as I browse a range of blogs I forgot just how indulgent the medium can truly be. I can't promise anything different here, in fact if anything, I can promise a healthy dose of indulgence. Singapore provides a range of bloggers, many of which have gained some semblance of prominence within the local popular culture. A far cry from Australia where I fail to name a single 'famous' blogger. The closest would be Garth Franklin who created a film site from nothing to become, at least in my very humble opinion, the most go-to film site on the Web.
So here I am, rambling and thankful for having Mondays off. As I embark upon a new relationship it occurs to me that the older I've gotten the less able I am to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth. Which is not to say I'm telling porky pies, more that when I was a younger man I would spill every ounce of myself to someone the minute I let them into my life. Yet here I am, knowing that there are things I'm not saying until 'I'm sure'. It's funny because I've not been in that position previously. Have I become so bitter and protective?
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