I feel like I'm caught in a loop; my thoughts, feelings, energy, ideas, all recycled — while time slips by. It's Thursday already?
I created this several days ago, but it still seems relevant. Dealing with disability and constant pain, I find myself absently pondering the struggles of all life against inevitable death. Perhaps it's because Stephanie has been watching a lot of Ancient Aliens juxtaposed with Nanny 911. I haven't given that a lot of thought.
I've also been thinking about what I'll leave behind, insofar as humanly possible. I know that nothing we leave on Earth is truly permanent, but what will remain into the near future?
Digital things are destined to disappear first. Many people seem to think that technology is a safer means of preservation, that the old ways are obsolete, but how many hard drives have crashed, how many dead hyperlinks exist? We've discovered several thousand year-old cave paintings and monuments scattered across our planet — where will my iPad be in 1000 years. Will it sit like a da Vinci or Stradivarius in a private collection or museum? Doubtful. Most likely, it'll end up recycled and repurposed, or sitting in a despicable landfill (I intend to avoid the latter).
Is life like a firework?
Like a good story; first launched, blazing a trail through darkness to reach climax, a brilliant explosion of color and energy, followed by a slow descent, existing as fragments and remnants to be discarded? Is it sparkle and fade?
What will remain? Facebook, Gmail, and free blogs, at least for awhile. Not this Squarespace blog. Who would pay for it, maintain it, after I'm gone?
I was thinking about this because Squarespace is offering a free Squarespace 6 blog to all Squarespace 5 users. I want to create something worth preserving… how often does that happen? Will the Wayback Machine care?
In the interim, I exist. Life: a culmination of grand achievements and seemingly irrelevant small moments. I wonder which comes next.