Stirring the Tempest in a Teacup

There is a season for everything.
I have never been actively involved in the local weblog scene or its politics. Except in jest, I don't often quote chunks of other Singaporean blogs or jump into the fray when things get heated up. Sure, I've had my Xiaxuesque aspirations but no one would pay to see my boobies. I consider myself a pretty quiet voice in a very noisy world currently filled with links of big-shot people moving to WordPress, or how great WordPress is.
Before I totally and utterly digress, I want to say to DW that I will not, as he says, "live and let live". I'm getting my pristine hands dirty.
When DW contemplated ending his blog of three years, Re-minisce, in a flurry of honesty, told DW that his writing wasn't "beautiful".
In a flurry of angsty depression, DW slammed the door of his blog shut. I was pretty sure he felt all the resolve boil up within him to stop blogging forever. And he would blog in detail about it. Because DW is, well, DW.
What you forgot, DW, was the main point to Re-minisce's flurried comment. We don't read your blog because it's Shakespeare or Dante. We read it because it is Anne Frank: a diary of honest strugglings and glimmers of hope.
Sure, the glimmers of hope often come from your many commenters using our local SMS-ized Singlish. Sincere or not, they all hope, as do all of us who do not comment but pray, that you will find your feet under you. Because if you do not, then our own insecure selves hidden in the deepest parts of our psyche do not stand a chance either.
It's about honesty, and about you. And then us.
I'm not linking to either your permalinks nor re-minisce's, because all the hurt should be gone by the time both of you read this.
Gone. In a flurry.

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