I Have Returned.

Wonder, wander, wither away.

In a world so void of time and space,

Whither shall the rosebud ever decay?

Greetings to all elven folk and faeries! As evident from the lack of activity concurring throughout this blog, I have obviously been very lackluster toward updating my writing status. Honestly, this lag has disappointed me immensely, and I hope to compensate for any ambiguities I have set upon my readers.

This year, I have divulged a few opinions/facts about literature:

- books dating back to the 1800s can be both a pain and joy to read

- teen romance novels repulse me

- the themes of greed, conceit, and death have been prevalent throughout my readings

Writing has often been a great fear of mine, something one can both love and blatantly abhor. It is a monster that stalks the breadth of our trailing aura, the voice that cues our stopping and goings.

Of course, I am not saying writing is always such an apprehensive idea; sometimes it reveals the truth behind our potential. Contrary to popular belief, you don't have to graduate from Yale to be an excellent writer. Proceeding in said direction might render you a respectable author, but not necessarily an honorable writer.

Authors speak the voice of an ever demanding society, working around the clock to settle the relentless flow of intractable editors and untimely deadlines. Many of them are just what we conceive one professed in knowledge to be: erect, imperturbable, and bursting with wit and humor. But then, others shrivel their inner flame in all courses of events, for the stress accumulated with years of strife and grief eventually cripple what may have once been both beautiful and deadly.

Writers, on the other hand, sing from the depths of their hearts. The light behind evening star, the sigh of meandering breeze... the latter allusions are what truly construct our soul into what it was meant to be. As time continues to take its toll, many neglect such petty ordeals, seeking greater sources of power in the monopoly of life. 

My only message to you is this: don't let society blind you. It's utterly cliche, but please take a chance to find the true epitome of beauty, whether it be repulsive or alluring. As quoted by Anne Frank, "[I] keep on trying to find a way of becoming what I would so like to be, and what I could be, if...there weren't any other people living in the world."