For months now, I have already thought the future of L'Heure Bleue. What point there is to blogging when I can always dilute my thoughts into 140 characters, and post it on a microblog. These days, when I can no longer afford the time for reflection and that habit of repetitive reading of a recent post to perform some thought refinement, the instant gratification offered by Twitter has become a workable replacement.
The need for aesthetics is gone, the wordsmith in me is dead.
But ten years is a long time to simply abandon this project and leave this space. I have been consistently writing - with or without an audience to read my life for ages. To break that time-honored bond, and simply walk away without breathing a word about my disappearance, is a slap to the blogger I once was. Should my absence become more evident, I can say with certainty that the future can never be written in these pages.
So even when I have to do other things, like blurb writing, laying in bed to sleep, or even simulating a life on Sims 3, I chose to reconnect with this portal and try once more to enjoy having that leisurely stroll inside my head.
For when inaction becomes my direction once more, never will I go back to blogging.
This journal keeping will end with silence as my witness.