posted by ironyofdparadox at 12:58 pm
Someone once described me as an “animated book”. Sucker for sychophancy, it was a compliment, well-took. Blogging’s a reluctant séance I walked into — a stab to incite my creative spurs back into a world from where they had taken voluntary retirement. A vacuous space where they indulged in nothingness — my once-zealot urges were Vladimir and Estragon, waiting for Godot. “Nothing to be done” read their logo. Drenched in the meaningless of existentialism, I ached for a catharsis. In non-absurdist lingo, I needed a space to appease my now-out-of-order ego. A Kafkaesque metamorphosis trailed this reawakening, now I verge on the obsessive compulsive… That’s right I’m a knee-jerk skeptic. Therein lies the irony of the paradox.
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