This is the third time Im embarking on the journey full of pit-holes, called blogging. I hope this time it avoids the inevitable result of deletion.
You guys must be wondering why do I keep deleting posts if I want to blog in the first place. There is one simple reason for that: I cant withold privacy when I write. Writing is personal detoxification and it flows at its own pace. I cant decide, propel, accelerate or push it out in a certain, planned way. Thus, when it meanders across unwarranted eyes, it creates hooplas of burnt egos and flaggeration of authority which has resulted in much more than just blog deletions on my part.
However, the inconsistent topography of blog-related-fate has not diminshed the 'burning dia' in me of my desire to outpour, yet. Hence, I continue to indulge...
This blog is not about summers or how hot-blooded I am.....its just a random word which from now onwards would be a common adjective to be found dropping from my lips very often. After two years of English summers, Lahori spring does that to you, no doubt! More so if you have oily skin! Aaaahhh, the blissfulness of oily skin deserves a separate post but I think that'll have to wait another couple of months so that I can be extremely passionate about it when I write about it and can divulge the finer aspects of it in greater details.
Coming back from London, I tried to arm myself with every possible tool of combating oily skin. From blotting sheets to tea tree oil and setting powder and acid to soak up the sebum, I still cower with the fact that I'd have to make a trip to the b'room every 5 minutes just to make sure I dont look tempting enough for Barack's army to invade for oil reserves.