stars
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its been a while since i last used my brain in a blogpost. which leads me to wonder. just what did i have in mind when i first visited wordpress.com and clicked sign up. was i looking for a way to tell the world about my wonderfully mundane life? or was i merely looking for a place where i could pen my thoughts down. one might say that the place for such things is a private journal or diary, not a blog on a public domain, where anyone and everyone can read your words and use them against you. where it seems like youre screaming to be noticed, vying for the world’s attention. or in the words of a cynical review i once read on blogging, telling the world “hey look at me, this is my life, i’m important”.
but no. i made this blog for a very simple purpose. memories. those elusive, unimaginable bits of the past that used to stay safely stored in our brains, but have now moved onto computer servers and hard disks as we begin to outsource our memories. but is it not inevitable? with every new technological advancement we hear shouts of joy, yet we become increasingly reliant on external aid. we have machines that walk for us, softwares that talk for us, whats to say we wont ever make something that thinks for us. are we to rely on our wonderful inventions to do everything for us then.
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why do we take photos. to remember places we’ve been, people we’ve met. photographs are memory aids, things that jolt our brains into recalling places people and emotions that we assign to each picture. it scares me sometimes though, that i am becoming increasingly trigger-happy. ask me what i remember about our helicopter ride in new zealand, and the only thing i clearly remember is holding a video camera and looking down at the wonderful view. but no, i cant remember what was so amazing about the view, other than things you can easily find on the internet. and so i wonder. whats the point of helping yourself to remember, if you dont even have anything to recall.
the tragedy of our impersonal world. is there no other way? even when i think back about my childhood, i remember not my actions, but photographs of them. a trip to disneyland? i can clearly see a picture of me, 13 years ago, standing with a man dressed in a costume of donald duck. but no, i remember nothing about what i did there. even when its not a photograph, i see my memories in 3rd person. is there nothing but the present then? everything in the past is gone forever, the flickering flame kept alive only by our meagre efforts to remember. even then, it takes faith to believe that what you remember is the truth, since everyone knows how easily convinced our minds are. and here an image of a computer commencing bruteforce hacking attempts on a system comes to mind. everything in this world breaks under pressure. yes, that include me and you.
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but maybe, just maybe, the world isnt nearly as horrible as we make it out to be
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and i need You