The gaps between my blog entries are getting wider again. And to think I should, in theory, be able to blog more, now that I have a laptop. It's a temporary reprieve, sure, because in three weeks' time I'll be plunging back into the world of steady employment. But I should, in theory, be able to blog more, now that I have a laptop.

Now, if only I had something to write about. Ironically, I'll only get ideas if I'm out and about more. Not exactly a good idea considering the circumstances.

To be fair, I do have a few things to write about, but lately I've been feeling lazy. A couple of ideas playing in my head, all fully-formed, and yet I'm not jotting them down, or technically tapping them down. I don't know. I'm lazy.

And now I'm forcing myself, more or less, to write something, because the gaps are getting wider. Not three days. A week, a week and a half, and maybe if I give more effort to it, two.

So what exactly do I write about?

I could start writing those long-pending blog entries now. But, again, I'm lazy. I don't feel particularly inspired. I have the idea but I don't have the spark. I don't feel compelled to write about it.

Yesterday I was at the barber shop and I was reading some magazine. FHM, I think. There was an oddly useful, if not fluffy, article on reading a girl's face. Big eyes means she's outgoing, small eyes means she's shy.

So I started thinking about the girls I've had a crush on. Hmm. The small eyes thing is easily debunked. That girl was out and about. We talked about things I never thought we'd even talk about. So no, scratch that bit, magazine writer, it's not entirely correct. But the big eyes thing, definitely correct.

And then I think of a particular someone, and start wondering if her eyes fall under "big" or "small". I couldn't tell, and I wouldn't dare pursuing the thought, because, you know, rabbit holes.

So I think of girls I didn't have a crush on. Hello, Loui. Happy birthday. You have small eyes, and yes, you are fairly shy.

I remember that today marks four years since my voice was heard on the radio, and not because I called, but because I was on the studio. I don't remember much about that day anymore. But I definitely remember not telling anyone about it. I think my official reason had something to do with Loui's birthday. Silly decision, stupid, insensitive decision. I shouldn't be writing about it, but I am, and because I'm oddly compelled to.

So what happened? I don't know either. Things, of course, went haywire, but as I told Mika a few weeks back, it's more complicated than that, my abhorring. Is abhorration a word? I'm not sure. Ahh, the word is "abhor". The keyword is "abhor".

I don't get why people enjoy it. I must be growing old.

I definitely am getting out of touch with the things I used to enjoy. Last week I was trying to write something. A short blog entry on the other blog, about the usual stuff: friends drifting away, me reminiscing about it, me getting the perfunctory "what's up?" and then getting no follow-up. Only I can't post the blog entry for some reason. I guess the world has had enough of me complaining about hipsters when I try so hard to be one, or something like that. I say I'm not. But whatever. You probably think that by writing a blog entry as avant-garde as this - it's going nowhere, after all...