Það hefur margt breyst síðan síðast. Kallar á ljóðahorn. Þetta hefur maður sungið ansi oft með sjálfum sér. Hír Æ gó agen on mæ ón.

I don’t know where I’m going
But, I sure know where I’ve been
Hanging on the promises
In songs of yesterday
An’ I’ve made up my mind,
I ain’t wasting no more time
But, here I go again
Here I go again

Tho’ I keep searching for an answer,
I never seem to find what I’m looking for
Oh lord, I pray
You give me strength to carry on,
’cos I know what it means
To walk along the lonely street of dreams

An’ here I go again on my own
Goin’ down the only road I’ve ever known,
Like a hobo* I was born to walk alone
An’ I’ve made up my mind
I ain’t wasting no more time

I’m just another heart in need of rescue,
Waiting on love’s sweet charity
An’ I’m gonna hold on
For the rest of my days,
’cos I know what it means
To walk along the lonely street of dreams

An’ here I go again on my own
Goin’ down the only road I’ve ever known,
Like a hobo* I was born to walk alone
An’ I’ve made up my mind
I ain’t wasting no more time

But, here I go again,
Here I go again,
Here I go again,
Here I go...

An’ I’ve made up my mind,
I ain’t wasting no more time

An’ here I go again on my own
Goin’ down the only road I’ve ever known,
Like a hobo I was born to walk alone
’cos I know what it means
To walk along the lonely street of dreams

An’ here I go again on my own
Goin’ down the only road I’ve ever known,
Like a hobo I was born to walk alone
An’ I’ve made up my mind
I ain’t wasting no more time...

But, here I go again,
Here I go again,
Here I go again,
Here I go,
Here I go again...

Fluttur í raunheima.

Netið er dautt. Lesið Fréttablaðið.

Rosalega er búið að vera gott að blogga ekki í þessa tæpu 2 mánuði. Þessi færsla er sú fyrsta frá því ég flutti yfir í raunheima og hún er eiginlega ekki til þar sem Badabing.is er horfin, ósýnileg og einhver tamplate er ónýt. Ætli þetta sé þá ekki bara fyrir mig?
Bloggið er auðvitað orðið jafn dautt og úldið og meirihluti þeirra sem enn stunda það. Fékk þennan póst frá Þráni Bertelssyni um daginn. Hann er góður og glöggur maður:

"... og meðan ég man, stórkostleg sjón mætir manni þegar maður fer á badabing.is. af hverju að skrifa út í loftið meðan enn þá er til pappír?"

Mæltu manna heilastur!