I'm secretly reading old blogs recently - mine, my friends', and even old blogs by strangers. Old, discontinued blogs. For some reason I find refuge in all those old entries. Before instagram and twitter and facebook. Back when photos dont usually cut it, when we were not limited to character counts. And back when we just shout our hearts out to the internet world regardless if anyone is listening.
About old discontinued blogs. Reading them is like looking at old photos, random photos you come across some bench or pavement or tucked in a book you bought from booksale. A portrait of a
person from another time and place.
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I'm really down right now. My father went at it again. A viral infection made its rounds among our family members and when it got to my father, what supposedly was a simple cough/cold thing became something serious. He had vomiting episodes and became severely hydrated.
In the hospital looking after him, I noticed he had almost perfect toenails. 65 years old and his toenails look way younger and healthier than mine. I. must. know. his. secret.
