What is the point of going on when no matter what you do, someone is bound to misinterpret your actions, others try to psychoanalyze the psychotic and rationalize the irrational. When they are farthest away from the issue at hand, observers and bystanders can be the most profligate moralizers and the most strongly opinionated, even though their opinions don’t count for jack shit.

But even enemies borne in bad blood can grow weary at having to deal with the same old crossing of the same old swords, over events that happened back in a era best acknowledged and promptly embalmed in the pages of musty history books and archived into obscurity.

The online world is a mess. In a way it has truly matured, for it now reflects all the ugliness of a society I now despise and never wish to see again. In its perfect xeroxing of all the petty, narrow-minded attitudes of so many of my fellow countrymen I see the country I left in despair, those last memories of arrogant, cold skyscrapers seen through a veil of tears. The last fragment of hope, I clutched in my hands, a visa to a new chapter of my life to another country, one that was oestensibly founded on the hopes of Enlightenment ideals.

In the New World, I found new purpose and a new education amidst a familiar setting; a second home beckoned across the seas and the Interwebs.

But hope is fickle, and recently it has flickered. Graduate school is a rollercoaster, and my train has run out of steam.

It all boils down to this: my boss just chewed me out the other day for not getting this one part of my project done, despite having assigned me the topic back in September. He wants to know why I’m taking so long to complete it, and I had no good reason to give him to cover my ass. No excuses came to mind.

In short, my graduate school career is in crisis. My research is going nowhere and I’ve been sitting on my bum wasting time online all this trying to solve the world’s problems by useless pontificating.

Desperate times call for desperate measures. It’s time to re-prioritize: I gotta cut something out. It’s time to break up and move on, alone again.

Goodbye, blog world. I’ll miss you.