I just can't take it anymore. I should have moved on long back but lingered in the hopes of a miracle. It was not to be and I've finally given up hope. The writing was always on the wall but I pretended not to read. Reality cannot be overlooked anymore.
It's painful but it must be done. The neglect is too much.
Google seems to have completely forgotten that it owns Blogger. Google bought the pioneer in the field of blogging and allowed it to languish while WordPress happened out of nowhere and thrived under the sun. While wordPress does come with a few caveats of its own, they diminish in comparison to Google's step-motherly treatment of Blogger.
Leaving behind a blogging platform is like junking your most trafficked mail id - you just can't get away from it completely. So while Blogger will always remain the mother ship, WordPress is where I may do at least some of my next few posts. In the long run, all posts will be come to Blogger, but not before WordPress has …
I finally have a usable phone! This one is called Doogee X9 Pro. After getting increasingly frustrated with the low end configurations of Moto phones being shipped to UK, I finally have up and settled for a cheap Chinese phone. I'm not exactly thrilled with the handset but I'll make do with it. Best of all, it's a dual-SIM model and I'll finally able to use FreedomPop for free internet access.
I'm wearing a rather remarkable shirt, one that makes me feel like a clown fooling around in a graveyard. Roving eyes latch on to me and make me too conscious of myself. Checkered in red, grey, black and maroon, I've excused myself into donning it and looking silly for two reasons. It's Friday and…more importantly, the last working day of the year. Tailored half-a-year back, I never had the courage to wear it, not until today.
It's that time of the year when it's time to reflect on the events that transpired. Last year ended on the worst possible note. Dad had expired and I was numb with shock. The repercussions rippled halfway thought this year. Things were so abysmal initially that I had lost the will to live. Acrid in everything I did, I was immensely angered by time phlegmatically flowing through its cadence. It was as if Dad meant nothing to anybody. What right did people have to live the way they always had when Dad was no more? Why was much of the world still…