I admit that I not only save other people’s posts, but entire blogs.
Sometimes, there are entries I like to read over again. Other times, I just like to be reminded of how right I was. But more often than not, it’s the ephemeral nature of blogs in general, combined with the fickle nature of adolescent writers still trying to “define themselves” on a free medium, that gives me the itch to save. So many writers I used to follow have changed domain names, started protecting their entries, or deleted their blogs.
Some things are garbage and should be forgotten or thrown away — but some things deserve to be kept too. Word-for-word, exactly the way it was spoken, because that’s the way it was expressed.
Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on your point-of-view, our words do last. Just because they aren’t there anymore, doesn’t mean they were never spoken.
There are consequences to the things we write, whether we want them or not.
Sometimes, life moves too fast for words.
At least this means I’m a nice guy.
I always thought I’d meet you at a concert. One of those moody, bass-heavy shows as if Robert Smith was fronting Portishead telling us to dance, dance, dance through the fire. The music’s good but too loud, and the lights are warm orange and reds.
But you’re too Suicide and I’m too xXx.