1. Take two minutes everyday to read your comments and return the favour.
2. Take 5 minutes every third day to write a quick entry, just a sentence describing your mood or something that sticks in your head. Maybe the lirics to a song, or a topic you have been debating in class.
3. Change your background whenever it feels like you've had the current background too long. THis can differ from a day in some cases to months in others.
4. Check out one new blog every month.
5. Go through your whole contackt list once a month.

1. Determine the problem.
2. If it's physical (i.e. computer or internet) fix it. You are bound to want to use it sometime.
3. If it's mental, see if you WANT to fix it. Take the following factors into consideration: Do I enjoy writing entries? Do people enjoy reading my entries? Do I have a fan base, people who visit every now and again or have basically commented on every entry I ave written? etc. etc. etc.
4. Can I make time, a few minutes a day, to blog as a way of relaxing? Is this relaxing to me?
5. Fix the problem.

I hope that has been helpful. If you have any queries phose: 08000 I-don't-care-you-have-to-fix-it-anyway.

Purple

Sophie sighed and shuffled down into her chair, trying to get comfortable. She sat, desperately trying to listen to her History teacher, but she just couldn’t concentrate. Opening her notebook, she tried to take notes, but as soon as she started writing, a dull pain surrounded her hand. She looked down at the blue and purple bruise that encircled wrist like some evil and demented bracelet. She stared as if seeing it for the first time, enchanted by the way the colours melted into each other, purple turning to blue turning to yellow.

“You bitch! Come here!” he had screamed, grabbing her wrist. She had twisted and turned, trying to get away from him, but his grip was made of steel. She had never seen him this angry, and she felt afraid. She knew she had to get away. Fighting him, she had screamed and hit him ineffectually on his chest. He had not seemed to notice, but only pulled her closer. She had stopped struggling abruptly as she looked up into his eyes. His eyes had been so cold and unrelenting that she felt like crying.