Friday, August 10, 2012

Thoughts Upon Being a Grown Ass Man, Part I

Oh god, I must turn away from the internet at some point.  I'm obsessed with the idea of social networking profiles staying up forever, long after the person has died.  I hate the idea of this.  Digital memorials are chilling, disturbing, weird.  I don't want my last internet-words to remain published forever.  Hanging there like a wraith of yesterday, forever exclaiming about the obnoxiousness about Dr. Phil's twang.  

I like the idea that there is some anonymity in death.  Like it or not, death makes us quite unavailable; unavailable for conversation, and generally unavailable for perusal. 

I have actually considered including in a living will document the passwords to all of my internet personae, so that a trusted person may unplug them all!  Delete, delete, delete.  I will not undulate on the internet for eternity. 

But while we are all still alive, the pages of the past continue to fascinate me.  I have spent many days idly reading back through a friend's Livejournal lately.  It is five years of a girl; it ends in brilliant, masterful, absurdist accounts of a life, and descends back through the years into the everyday rambles of a grown child.  She stopped posting in 2009 or something, although she is around somewhere.  I read this journal and I can't get over how witty, how sharp, how sad, but how continuous it all is. 

Then I look to see what I was doing on some particular day in 2004, 2006, 2008, and am reminded of why this journal may not need to stand sentinel to my former days.  


little hell flames wrote,

i've fixed the hole in the crotch of my jeans with safety pins, just for the night.

i'm terrified, but so lazy.


The reason this came up, aside from the fact that I've been devouring her journal like a weird life manual written by a contemporary Los Angelean Charlotte Bronte, is because I can't remember my old Myspace password.  I haven't logged in in years, and none of my old passwords work.  Do you know what this worst thing ever is?  Having a hilarious password.  You can't tell anyone!  So I tried my old hilarious passwords and my not so hilarious passwords, and I'm locked out.  The email I used is old and defunct, so I can't retrieve it.  And my profile is public.

So there I am forever, for the rest of Myspace, dangling in my early 20s, scowling in bars, epitomizing all that I was then. 

I suppose it'll be all right.  I'm not a revisionist anyway.

gother, Myspacer dayz


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