Salvage attempt.

I haven’t been writing much,

I know.

I could throw out excuse after excuse –


“Work was finishing.”

“I had Christmas to plan.”

“Life got busy.”


Truth is, I am not one to commit to something for the long term. Very rarely can I do something for a long time. Writing, something I still enjoy with an unbridled passion, is lingering on the cusp of becoming another fallen idea of another life I could have. One reason for my silence is that I find it very difficult to open up to anyone, and once I have I feel supremely self-conscious to the point that quitting seems to be less mental hassle.


This blog was is my confessional. I write very personal things that I don’t usually tell family, friends, or strangers passing in the night. Lately I’ve been feeling overwhelmed with decisions and feelings that I took it upon myself to quit whatever process I had been using to exert my thoughts, for fear of what others would want to say to me. It’s happened once before due to a personal blog post, and I’m still not entirely sure if I’m comfortable with the resulting talk from it, but I continued to write sporadically after it, well up until my recent hiatus that is.


Now I guess these next words are my attempt to salvage whatever passions I had when I started this, and to see whether I can handle any responsive events from it. I figure what do I have to lose seeing as I’m alone in Beijing with no physical contact to worry about, and I started this blog with no intention other than putting thoughts to ink/pixels.


As a good friend of mine once said, “consequences be damned.”






I was in my early teens and roaming Garden Place, when near the square there was a large sign asking ‘Are YOU a Good Person?’ next to a smaller sign stating that if you took their test you would get a free Snickers bar at the end.


Well, who could pass that prize up?


After questions regarding my opinions about theft, murder, and marriage (they didn’t take too kindly to me saying I prefer girls, silly nuts) they asked the grand finale question ‘do you think you’re a good person?’


My answer, no.


Well that answer was certainly not what they expected, and they sent me on my merry way sans Snickers bar (lying is a sin, you false advertisers).


Truth is, I have never liked the binary suggestion of a person being either ‘good’ or ‘bad’. You cannot say with certainty you are one, and deny the existence of the other. Humanity is an infinite spectrum of grey, ranging from the most undeniable pleasures, to the most unspeakable horrors. You and I have been witness and instigators to all manners of grey. It’s whether you feel comfortable in the shade you’re wearing that shows what person you are.


Lately however I’m beginning to question if I’m colour blind. I shared information that was not born from a direct instigation of my involvement, but one that I was privy to (and in a rather bad taste round of judgment by those who committed said act). Basically, I gossiped. A trivial action, in my opinion. But to others it seems to have left a wound. I’m still comfortable with the shade of grey I’m wearing, even if it doesn’t align with the moral compass of others. And yes, I realise that if everything known about me was public knowledge then I’d have a lot of answering to do. But I understand and accept that. Just don’t ask me to bleach my grey to something so artificial it can do nothing else but stain.





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