I have no title for this post

I'm thinking of a good metaphor to equate this feeling to but none presently comes to mind. Phoenix rising from the ashes comes close but doesn't quite nail it on the head.
I am a negligent blogger a repetitive confession I must add. Last blog I posted was a little under 2 months ago; but in my defense, I haven't had a platform to write and post on.
I 'borrowed' mummy's modem (and had her believing that her workmates are little theifing ferrets) which I guess a neighbour of mine later stole as well. Karma. Such a lady. My little old phone was stolen from me in the most stupid of ways -a story that would make for good humour this, but I still feel stupid about it. So for the last 2 months I have had my thoughts bundled up in my tiny little head with no escape. Though I think they deserve credit for this goatee it has grown out really fast. But females dig men with goatees right?! *strokes goatee
I have been going over some other blogs though. I doubt you understand how an internet connection makes for good entertainment on what would otherwise have been a boring day in the office. That, solitare, spider solitare, sudoku and the daily crossword. Yes. I am resourceful.
My twitter timeline has lately been awash with countless links of shared blogs from all over. Whereas there are some really bad blogs out there yes even worse than this one. With people who say 'pals' *shivers There are some good ones. REALLY GOOD. One particular blog by Biko Zulu comes to mind. I have a little confession. The first time I read one of his posts, I had a dictionary at hand. Not that I don't know my grammar or vocabulary, but just to confirm if his words were correctly used and in context. Spot on everytime. You'd actually replace the word with its defination from the dictionary and it would make perfect sense. Easily my most favourite blog... ever. He's the baba yao of bloggers in my book. His posts tell a story even when they don't. And there is no denying that he takes his work VERY seriously. Writer by profession. He writes for the love of writing and you can see it in how he lets us in to his life and most private and emotional moments of his life like here. I find myself pointing up to that pseudonym and whispering... I want to be like that guy. I am in love with that blog. He calls it high school. I want high school's number.
Based on this... I've thought of a rebirth of sorts. I had a classmate back in high school. Heathen. Dines with Lucifer himself and lays in his chambers with his wife. Okay. Maybe not so bad but he wasn't so good either. I can't remember why I held such resentment towards the little fellow -this old age- but the point of the story is that every Sunday when there was an alter call he'd be first in line to get saved, then Monday he would be back to his evil ways. Sometimes it would take 2 weeks for recidivism to kick in but it always did. So we wondered... how many times really could one get born-again again? Similar script different setting; I've come back to this blog oh so many times in answer to my own alter call. Fresh and bursting with energy hoping to write some kick ass posts but hardly do I ever deliver (I feel like a politician!). But hey. I'm here now. And I shall make the best of it. Don't compare my work to Biko's though. It would be unfair. I'm always rusty after a little time off. Plus he's older.

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