I once fancied myself a bit of a writer. I've been assured by numerous sources that this is a rite of passage for every English-speaking Indian.
In any case, I indulged my delusions by writing assiduously into a blog on blogspot. I knew that I had about fifty misguided souls pop by my blog every day. I chose to ignore the fact that a large proportion of them ended up on my blog after searching for "hot horny mallu aunties" on Google and left sorely disappointed.
I drew inspiration for most of my posts from my numerous failed attempts to establish relations with members of the opposite sex. It appeared to work very well for a while, as scarcely a week went by without some girl or the other blowing me the proverbial raspberry.
And then one day, I ended up meeting a girl who wasn't prudent enough to run a country mile in tight shoes when faced with my ardour. Suddenly finding myself in a loving relationship (that has since evolved into marriage and fatherhood), I no longer had any disasters to write about. The blog withered...
I tried a few times to get myself going again. But I found that being satisfied with my love life had an enervating effect on my creativity.
So why now, you ask (assuming you've read this far, that is)? Why inflict my beastly written word on an unsuspecting populace after all of these years of peace and quiet? Well, it's because, in the best traditions of bad workmen everywhre, I believe that an alternative explanation to my not writing any more is that Blogspot and Wordpress are just terrible (or overly complex) blogging tools. The Ghost project seemed terribly appealing, and I desperately wanted to have a go at running it on Heroku against their express instructions*.
Is that a terrible reason? It probably is, but it's nearly two in the morning, I'm a geek, and I never said I spun a good yarn.
*Also, I love markdown.