As I write this, my Multiply site
, all but archived, hasn't disappeared yet.
It's supposed to be. Today's the first of December, and considering all that kerfuffle
a few months ago about the site ditching its social networking side for e-commerce, which means all of our photos and videos and blog entries disappearing, I'm a bit surprised that there's still something to see.
I finished backing my photos up a few weeks ago, and yesterday, during downtime in between dance rehearsals, I grabbed my airchecks and my audio projects. Last night, after getting home from yet another meet-up with Rainy
- well, technically, it was this morning, at midnight, to be more precise - I opened my laptop and put my five thousand or so photos (there are definitely more) into folders, like they used to ages ago, when my hard drive died. I went to sleep at half past four in the morning, anxious that my mom would see me and send me to bed anyway. Well, she couldn't, because I was in bed.
At the same time, I saw people who were, surprisingly, caught flat-footed. "Multiply
is going?" said someone, I can't remember who. I mean, I understand if you've been living under a rock, but noise filters through sometimes, and everybody with a Multiply site and their entire lives on the cloud panicked when the news first came through. How do you save all those photos? Will you ever save all those photos? Why don't you have offline copies of your photos? Well, me, again, my hard drive died. I don't know what your excuse is.
That could be the reason why some have just thrown their arms in the air, and said that they'd rather let it all go and start clean.
Well, if you put it that way, it definitely sounds a bit noble. Or maybe it's because I first read that explanation from Claud. Wait, I don't think it's Claud. She wrote something about not saving anything, but I don't think it's she who had this bit about starting clean. But anyway, I know someone said that clean slate thing. I can't remember who.
And yes, it sounds admirable. You have six years' worth of memories, some good, some bad, all markers of who you were, and they don't necessarily correspond to who you are now. Also, the idea of your past haunting you beyond the melodramatic ways - what will your bosses think? - isn't any savory, so there you go. Start clean, at least in one place.
I don't think I can do that.
I'm a sentimental sap. I'm the guy who keeps copies of old things, no matter how dirty or unsightly it already is, just for the sake of having a record. Handwritten newspapers from elementary school, a handwritten note on a scrap of paper from Karla, another handwritten note on stationery from... whoever gave me a copy of Missy Higgins
' second album. I'm the guy who's trying his best to hold on to six years' worth of photos, even if it's of people he never was friends with, of people he badly wanted to be friends with but was rebuffed, of people he was friends with but never could quite reach now. For the sake of sounding admirable, sounding noble, it's these things that make you who you are. Even if you've cut off everything, it's still there. You just can't get there, or won't go there, but there it is.
Although, really, all I want is a record of all the things I've done. Same reason why I never changed blogs, why I never ditched this one whenever something really shitty comes by (and heaven knows that has happened
). I know people don't like the way I cannot move on from things, but sometimes, there's no point doing so.