It’s been a long time since my last posting. Generally, I write because writing allows me to be relentless. Through the process of writing, I can accurately unravel things and put them back together. That’s a hazardous exercise. Like any other creative process, writing could be fragile because you’re always at the edge – trying to constantly reassess the danger-free zone. In that context, first hand experimentation of the things we write about, could be destructive in real life – because mystery could simply become confusion.

The fact is, I started posting my writings on this blog because I wanted some people to read them. In a mischievous way, I have been hoping that some people would read my postings more than others. Because, there has always been a real story behind everything I wrote. Except, I’ve been unfailingly faithful to "the code" of not mentioning names. Because, the discussion should always be about the problem and not about the people. Last weekend, I had a come-to-Jesus moment with myself. I thought I can’t stop writing just because it takes a long time and great deal of energy to abstract problems away from people …

… every good idea starts like a boutique. You do your thing in the corner, and you get noticed after a while. And then, the attention becomes a problem either by the virtue of perception, or by the state of preference. I know my writing style could be perceived as if I critique a great deal. But read my postings as if: it is just you, me, and a beer …