...perhaps it’s looking through rose-tinted glasses, perhaps not…

…there’s a thread of expectation and a little time on my hands and so I indulge in blogging, something I thought I’d do more regularly to hone the way I write than to express my thoughts. As a matter of fact, I’m not a public person. But it’s turned out to be just quite the opposite, and so I think, what’s wrong in being personal anyway?

What is it that makes you say sorry? What’s wrong in saying you’re sorry anyway? Is there ever a right time, or maybe wrong? Is it ego or “self respect” that would stop you?

What’s wrong with appreciating people for what they are, rather than for what they’re not?

Would you punish someone because they cared too much, and you couldn’t care a two pence? or because they couldn't care like you do? And who are you to punish anyway? Or deign to forgive?

Or give someone a second chance? Isn't that what friends are for anyway...? Letting go and moving on? Or does that butcher your 'self respect'?

Or being honest and upfront? Isn't that the very foundation of any relationship any which way?

What's with refraining from recognising your 'friends' in public, but not batting an eyelid before 'using' them as a source of cheap thrills?

Is it wrong to stretch out your hand for those who wouldn’t care, those who make it look as though you never ever mattered even though that's not true?

Or give up hope in the hope of finding it again? Or never give it up in the first place?

Or allowing anyone to break you because you let them matter so much?

Or being brave enough to show you care, or is that stooopid? And does bravery lie in walking out on someone, slamming the door, laughing condescendingly because things have started looking up for you?

Or saying yes, or no?

Or being just as enthusiastic about things you were 15 years ago?

So when then is the right time to laugh off stuff...? Dude, where's your sense of humour? Or taking things just too seriously that it'll change things forever?

When do you decide whose shoes you'll walk in before making judgement about them? Or if you've walked long enough? As a matter of fact, who are you to judge, does anyone live by your leave?

…and a million such thoughts come into my head as I shoot them into the void.

Perhaps, I think as I always do, of Paul and Art as they hum into my head “all I suggest is a man hears what he wants to hear and disregards the rest…”