Reading Backwards

(An amiable hobby. You should try it someday, and see if it nauseates).

Had my first ever company meeting today, in which I sat through saying little and, when prompted, gave the most pointless suggestions. Mostly I took down notes, and tried not be imagine that every eye cast in my direction is wondering why I was even hired.

The magazine industry, it turns out, is quite like putting on The Greatest Show on Earth. You set up the throw lights and let the fireworks fly, and make sure the actors acted and the singers sang. You enchant the audience, wrap them in so much spectacle that all they could see was the stage, and light, and magic; and questioned little else. What happened backstage, they’d never know.

There’ll be those pesky individuals who purposefully wander in, trying to take a peak. That’s where the bouncers work.

And no matter how bad things go, the Show Must Go On. As ringleaders and clowns, the horn must be honked, and the trapeze must swing. Only when the last audience leave do the tents close.

Admittedly, I’m trying very hard to make sure I keep hitting the apple on top of Ms Assistant’s head with the knife. Eventually, either I’ll miss or the audience will get bored.

Maybe I’ll move to the elephants.

*****

I let the fingers do the roving today, and it found itself clicking the archives of the blog all the way back to 2006.

That was when the previous blog got unwittingly deleted, and this one started itself. It had a different name then, and I think I changed it another time. Now it’s a name of a notebook that I had written on, and ultimately lost.

(I fear that the name of the notebook is actually The Paradiso Notebook; Paradiso meaning Paradise, or that place where Dante ascended into enlightenment and immortality. Pragadissio, I’m sure, meant Crabs.)

In 2006 I wrote a lot about days that were eventful in its small ways, and I also wrote about nonsensical things, sometimes about Love, and sometimes those really fun to write but rather cringe-worthy rants.

These days I don’t write about the days. I still write nonsensical things. I might’ve written about Love but the subject seemed so distant right now it’s a voice locked within cubes locked within boxes. I don’t think I’ve written a rant in a very, very long time (or maybe I did, but the fun of ranting seemed to have died a gutter-death when I realised I was annoying myself).

I think, when I started this, it was a journal. Now it was something I made excuses of not updating frequently, and sometimes a place I refuse to write in because I’m afraid what I can write might not be written piece I’d like.

I think I forgot it’s a journal. Back then I used to tell myself I don’t care if anyone read something; I’d just write in it. Now that practically no-one does (you mean you are? What the.), I barely wrote anything.

First resolution of the year:_________________________

(I’ll fill it out eventually.)