You probably think I inflict myself on you every now and then. And you probably read what I write hoping I have something earth-shattering to say? Only to find out I don’t.
Why then, you may ask, should someone who is obnoxiously erratic where writing is concerned pretend to be so prolific? No great mystery. My blog-mate who was scheduled to write today – didn’t.
And since I have no privileged insight into the mind or motives of the guy who was scheduled to write today’s blog, what you read hereafter perhaps will be very different from what the guy who was scheduled to write might have written. It did take a major chunk of my time, however, when I could have been sleeping.
I don’t have a bagful of things to write about. Neither do I have a genie I can take out of a bottle, command it to write something that will catch your fancy, and then return it to the bottle. That is why, sometimes, what you read is gibberish.
When the person writing is deprived of sleep because the guy who was scheduled to write - didn’t, even churning out gibberish is a feat.
I know, you may argue that some writers do churn out masterpieces time after time. Well, I guess they do have genies then. And if you’re still in the mood to argue, it's the guy who was supposed to write today that you should get hold of. He's known as Big B!
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