I’ve been doing archiving again today, downloading local copies of things that previously existed (in versions accessible to me) only on the Internet.
The thing about archiving is that it *hurts*. Not having done it–the moment when you want to remind yourself how something went and find it isn’t there to tell you, will never be there again–hurts a lot more, so I keep doing this. My past is valuable to me and I want to keep hold of it, have it available, and yet it always hurts to immerse myself in it.
(Today I’m saving works of fiction, works I think I would miss if their links rotted. (Some of them have already rotted. Most were salvageable through the Internet Archive. But only most.) I didn’t think that would hurt, but it turns out that it does, that they evoke the time periods I read them in.)
I know a lot of people hate their past selves, for their ignorance and foolishness. I think this is another version of that impulse, but I don’t hate past-me.
I don’t hate *her*. I hate the people who did this to her.
I think that’s a lot of the problem. I think maybe a lot of the pain of archiving isn’t inherent to the task in general, but because most of the stuff I’m archiving–this project and previous projects–is from around my late teens, give or take, and I was in a lot of pain then. A lot of it I hardly acknowledged at the time, or if I acknowledged it I shrugged and figured that was just how things were.
Maybe it’s good for me to immerse myself in the past, sometimes, if only to show myself how far I’ve come.
Tags:
#our roads may be golden or broken or lost #oh look an original post #amnesia cw #(the following category tag was added retroactively:) #((and can’t be added at the end because there are more than 20 tags so category tags won’t register there)) #101 Uses for Infrastructureless Computers #I’m not even sure how long it’s been since the last time I cried #months and months I think #I’m not crying now I’m just saying I cry a *lot* less than I did then #(crying frequency is often a helpful guide to my current sanity levels if I find I’m having trouble telling from the inside) #((bear in mind I don’t experience estrogen’s effects on crying)) #((it’s not cathartic it’s not helpful and if things are going at all well it’s *not* frequent)) #I should probably stop for the day #I hate to leave tasks like these half-completed #but I’ve been neglecting my other daily tasks today and they need tending to as well #(I wonder whether I still have further to go) #(if late-twenties!me will look back at some background pain I’m so accustomed to as to hardly notice) #(and flinch) #(and pity me) #(and be grateful not to suffer like that anymore) #((my bet is on something finance-related)) #((I am aware of certain echoes between this post and two posts ago)) #((I maintain that accepting my lot is better than impotent anger at it)) #((but I acknowledge that having a lot that does not tempt anyone towards impotent anger at it would be better still)) #(((though I would like to point out that a lot of past-me’s pain was caused by feeling obligated to cultivate anger)))
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