I used to run this a website called There Have Been Bad Moments.
Well -- actually I still run it, it's just that I haven't updated or added anything to it for almost two years now. I suppose one of these days I should just delete it or something. Archive the files, clear the webspace and use it for something else. But I leave it there - a reminder of myself.
There's still a lot of good writing there, things I'm proud of.. but looking back at it today it seems like a million years ago. Like it was something from a different age, like it was written by a different me.
a smarter me
or perhaps
a me less stupid
Maybe it's just everything that's going on. Maybe it's the way I managed to crash my day into a parking lot with just a handful of words this morming... But whatever the case, there was this strange feeling that kinda swept over me while I was browsing through my own past. This sensation I couldn't shake while I was reading the words that told everyone what we used to be...
THBBM started out as an online diary, when the definition of such a thing was a lot more like what it sounds like. It started out as retelling of my day, a computerized version of the tattered spiral notebooks that I used to keep. But after a while, it turned into something else.
...A lot of things changed over those years
All things grow up, I suppose. I like the way that site evolved. Even in the end, when the convenience and accessibility of blogging made journalling seem so archaic and slow -- it still provided me a place to cultivate my writing, test out ideas, and ramble on for days about whatever struck my fancy at the time.
I haven't updated that site in almost two years.
But when I read it, I know exactly what was happening in my world at the time. Every face, every reference, and every metaphor. They all come rushing back to me, like stepping into a photograph or waking up into a recurring dream.
Iron Man live again...
Sometimes I want to go back. Most times I know that I can't. Perhaps that's why I keep it around, with it's clunky interfaces and mile-long writings. This horse-drawn carriage in a world of jetpacks and transporters -- driving down the information superhighway with an orange safety triangle on the back, reminding me of what can be produced when you're willing to put in the time.
It's like a meal you only eat once a year.
The dinner that takes a full day to cook.
The one that everyone looks forward to,
the one everyone misses when it's gone.
Well -- actually I still run it, it's just that I haven't updated or added anything to it for almost two years now. I suppose one of these days I should just delete it or something. Archive the files, clear the webspace and use it for something else. But I leave it there - a reminder of myself.
There's still a lot of good writing there, things I'm proud of.. but looking back at it today it seems like a million years ago. Like it was something from a different age, like it was written by a different me.
a smarter me
or perhaps
a me less stupid
Maybe it's just everything that's going on. Maybe it's the way I managed to crash my day into a parking lot with just a handful of words this morming... But whatever the case, there was this strange feeling that kinda swept over me while I was browsing through my own past. This sensation I couldn't shake while I was reading the words that told everyone what we used to be...
essential amino acids help the body produce niacin
THBBM started out as an online diary, when the definition of such a thing was a lot more like what it sounds like. It started out as retelling of my day, a computerized version of the tattered spiral notebooks that I used to keep. But after a while, it turned into something else.
...A lot of things changed over those years
All things grow up, I suppose. I like the way that site evolved. Even in the end, when the convenience and accessibility of blogging made journalling seem so archaic and slow -- it still provided me a place to cultivate my writing, test out ideas, and ramble on for days about whatever struck my fancy at the time.
niacin helps the body produce serotonin
I haven't updated that site in almost two years.
But when I read it, I know exactly what was happening in my world at the time. Every face, every reference, and every metaphor. They all come rushing back to me, like stepping into a photograph or waking up into a recurring dream.
Iron Man live again...
Sometimes I want to go back. Most times I know that I can't. Perhaps that's why I keep it around, with it's clunky interfaces and mile-long writings. This horse-drawn carriage in a world of jetpacks and transporters -- driving down the information superhighway with an orange safety triangle on the back, reminding me of what can be produced when you're willing to put in the time.
serotonin plays an important role in sleep
It's like a meal you only eat once a year.
The dinner that takes a full day to cook.
The one that everyone looks forward to,
the one everyone misses when it's gone.
[Listening to: Paul Kelly and the Messengers, "Dumb Things"]
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