It's not just me.
More than half the blogs on my blogroll are in some kind of somnambulist trance.
Tweety and Dhyani, both good friends, haven't stirred in a long while. You worry too much about the quality of your output guys, if you ask me.
B.C., ever the revivalist, keeps deleting and rewriting his blog. But well, at least he's been breathing lately.
Boomsa and Ostrich, both poetesses and songstresses, both among my first loves in the blogsphere, have been hibernating.
Sweet li'l Miss prodigal, the Elf, is caught up with the pursuit of a journalistic degree.
His fabulousness Jay has quit us altogether.
The duck doesn't quack much lately.
Scarecrow visits her blog rather infrequently, like some old dusty house she's inherited.
Box, Madhavan, Priyanka Joseph, Quincy, Madhur, Gamemaster, all quiet. Too quiet.
So there it is. Loud and clear. A whole generation of blogs going through some kind of midlife crisis. Or hibernation. Or something.
Told ya, it's not just me.