the old becomes dust

Did you know MySpace officially launched in August of 2003?  I can't even believe it myself that it was 10 years ago this month; I was about to enter my Senior year of high school and thus... I had no idea what it was.  I didn't even know what it was by the time I graduated because back in those days I was still rocking a Nokia 3585i.

The fact that the screen was in color was enough to get me thrilled.  No photo capabilities, no texting, just a cell phone.

I think maybe by the next fall I started hearing more about MySpace because of college (it's weird to write I was in college... hmph) and this new term of "social networking" that had sprouted up from nowhere.  In early spring of 2005 I decided to create an account though I do recall there was very little to do.  I didn't have many friends on the site yet and it was hard to work visiting it into a routine at that point.

the very first profile picture ever (yes, eeevvveeerrr)

The most I did online back in those days was check my daily movie websites for news and then my e-mail (on AOL of course (and not AOL.com, it was the bonafide America Online that was it's own special program on the computer.))  That summer MySpace was purchased by News Corporation and then it really became a "thing" and I ended up turning into a rabid fan.  People could write on my wall!  They could see how I ranked my top friends!  I could fill out nifty little questionnaires and post the answers FOR EVERYONE TO SEE!

There was one other thing, too... something called a blog.

I'd heard the term of a blog before and probably thought it was a fancy acronym for something, kinda like "lol."  At that time I had never (faithfully) kept a journal, I just had my books I'd written.  I finished writing the first draft of my second novel during that summer and when it was done I thought I'd take a stab at one of these "blogs."

I was hooked right away.  I don't know if it was the fact I could write about whatever I wanted and do the provocative thing in letting the world read it, or the fact that people were ACTUALLY reading it.  You could track pageviews even then and I generally only would get a dozen or so per blog, but it was exciting.  Now I get excited for every hundred I cross but... with age comes beauty I suppose.  That doesn't make sense but I wrote it anyway.

I would write blogs randomly but at times it would be once a week for several weeks in a row.  Maybe a couple in a week.  There would be some that were just surveys I was answering ("What's Your Dream Guy?" "Everything About You in 200 Questions!") or some when I was venting about my parents or certain friends (who weren't tech savvy to MySpace yet (and never were.))  I would write about the funny things that happened during the day or an update on my life at work.  There were stories about my first love, Joe, and the adventures I took with random people I could no longer name if I even tried.  Bad dates, great trips, and even once or twice my broken heart.

The point was that I was writing outside of my books and enjoying it.

Some of the best things I ever wrote were on MySpace... experiences immortalized in my words and locked away for safe keeping.  Looking back on it I was freer to say whatever was on my mind because there were no consequences for it.  I could bitch and whine about anyone and everyone due to the chances of them stumbling upon it were always slim to none.  And I bitched a lot.  I bitched about anything and everything because that was the thing to do.  The naive nature of social media at that point wasn't "once it's out there, it's out there for good," it was "do what ya want!  Go NUTS! No one will see this anyway!  Waddya mean it's saved forever!?"

Eventually I did stop writing blogs, capping them off somewhere north of the 100 mark back in 2009, right when I moved out of my parent's house.  That was when I stopped using MySpace as well because by that point I'd gotten more involved with the entity we call Facebook and everything it entails.

Namely being relevant.

A couple years passed and I don't think for a hot second I missed writing blogs.  I had things to do in my life, eventually a cheater to keep an eye on, and thus no time for whining about how hard or how good things were.  I always intended to (and told people I would) go back to MySpace and print off all of my blogs.  Three-hole-punch them and stick 'em in a binder for the days I needed a good laugh!  Last year I logged in to skim through some of them and revel in the past, just because I could.  MySpace had updated itself with a new look, one that incidentally didn't catch on, but I figured I could take my time still.  It'd be easy to copy and paste each blog into a Word document and save it to a folder but I was probably in a hurry or feeling too busy to be bothered.

Flashing forward to today, I was thinking while I was at work about how little drama I have in my life.  Nothing really bad has happened lately (knock on wood,) I haven't had any huge fights or breakups or anything of the sort.  It got me to thinking about the old blogs and how dramatic I USED to be (capitalized for dramatic effect) and that maybe I should go home and finally save them.  After all, they had meant so much to me at one point, much like these blogs do now, and it was important I document them.

MySpace, however, went through another redesign.  And incidentally all 100+ blogs I (and anyone else) ever wrote are gone.  There was no warning they were getting rid of them, no announcement of "hey, your words/ideas/laughs/tears/whatever are getting the boot."  It's just gone.  A quick google search indicates they are not completely deleted and some day MAY return, but that some day isn't now.  It might not, and probably won't, be ever.

And it makes me so sad.

I know the past is in the past and looking back on it means you're trying to hold onto something already gone, but I don't think it's ever bad to remind yourself.  Remind yourself of where you've been, where you're still going, and maybe how much it took for you to get there/here.  Having the option taken away is something else entirely and it makes me feel that ugly feeling I rarely indulge in.  Regret.

I know they haven't been read in years, even if you count my perusal.  I know they were just sitting idly in the corner of the internet, hidden by shadow and waiting to be discovered once more.  But now they aren't words, and worse they aren't even old words.  They're just dust.  There are a million shoulda-woulda-couldas that come to mind with these ordeals but in the end I have to sigh and try to let go.  "It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live," as Albus Dumbledore so eloquently said.  Things are what they are.

Besides, still no one likes MySpace even AFTER a third "rebirth" so they can just sit and spin for all I care.  Fuckers.