Those Written After

We knew that as early as 2015, the age of Blogging is coming to an end. Twitter, a microblogging platform where we used to post our random stuff was gaining more appeal. The dearth of readers surrendering their love for long-form reading to instantly gratifying social media browsing hastened the migration of the community to places where they can still connect with their clique, leaving Blogspot like a ghost town, a shadow of its former self.

I have thought long and hard about abandoning this blog. After all, I could still weave words on Instagram which I could then crosspost on Facebook. Twitter, where I am firmly rooted remains my favorite haunt. And life itself needs no journal keeping. The present pass by without much fanfare and my everyday existence is affirmed by the Weatherman.

"So why are you suddenly manifesting during the Blue Hour again, Mugen?"

The answers, escape me, to be honest. Maybe the Blogger app afforded me to think about things and write them with ease? (In fact, I am writing this journal entry while lying on my bed - instead of working) The random checking of my old blogpost, and the need to somehow write a postscript prod me to keep the lights open. Or maybe, I am just a writer through and through, and like the gardening hobby that I kept from elementary, the urge to perform journal keeping resurface from time to time.

I do not know when the next hibernation will take place. But as long as the urge to write remains, stories I left hanging many years ago will be revisited in hopes that they too will be concluded, now that I tend to see the past through rose-tinted glasses.