December 17, 2002


One of the most amazing things about blogging, to me, is its fluidity. What we are doing, saying, thinking are typeset blips on a virtual timeline. This is important. It's important because we as humans are fluid, or we are dead. Our insides are circulating, regenerating, morphing, or else rigor mortis begins to set in. We are dynamic or else we are static.

This is why my archives are becoming more important to me. I want my archives to take on a personality. I don't want them arranged simply by weeks or months. I want to be able to tap into where I was--my headspace, my heartspace. I don't my archives to be just chronological; I want them to represent who I was, where I was, why I was, while I was writing. To be my living brain, my living heart, tracing back into the me I was so that I can learn more about the me I'm becoming.

To think that you are the same person you were when you landed here a year, a month, a minute ago--and that you will be the same person a year from now--is shortchanging yourself. If weblogging is one thing, it is movement forward. One post at a time, one eye ahead and one back.

That's why I've never pulled a post. Not to say I never will--I may feel the urge one day. But the reason I haven't is that I WANT to be able to look back and see the way I hopped from one thought to the next, the way I vibed off of others and myself, what triggers me, what inspires me, what shuts down my voice, what makes me grow.

I want a record. I just wish it could be chronological *and* emotional, that it could track the days of the year *and* the moods of the mind, that it could link back in time *and* back into my heart.

Carry on.