Desmond and the Rascals.

So much to say, so little motivation to; World, I am a lazy, lazy bum -- at least with respect to blogging. School has started and the readings, projects and other whatnots have been waiting in line, all ready to jump me at the blow of a whistle.

Come to think of it, the whistle has already been blown.

Needless to say (although I still will for want of something to blog), blogging has been a little more difficult to find time for. Now before you burst open the celebratory drinks and go around congratulating each other for my trivial job undone, I will have you know that writing helps me find myself.

You know how it is, the journey within; discovering your inner-child; getting in touch with the man inside. And we have to find our own methods towards discovery. Well, writing helps me realise that at the core of it all, I am really, really just a lazy bum.

A lazy, lazy bum.

(You must take all he says with a sea of salt, this Individual reckons. After all, there's no such thing as an inner-child. There is an inner-thigh, and this he has bruised quite ingloriously. This Individual feels motivated to blame his night cycling for his bruise, but he must be honest -- it was really the fault of his (should-have-been-non-existent) inner-child. Children can be such rascals.)