I went out a couple of weeks ago and I found myself watching this young woman taking pictures of herself. Out in the open as your everyday hope to be influencer would do.
I started asking myself why do people feel compelled to keep memories? I keep memories too. I can’t say I’m different to the rest of the world who does this but lately, I would say In the last three years, I’ve been so focused on work that I haven’t really taken a moment to just…keep a record of me.
It’s borderline alarming when I listen to my thought process working it’s way through why I don’t do this but as nihilistic as this sounds, where I’ll end up eventually I see no point in keeping my memories. As a matter of fact, I feel like my memories weigh me down from the ultimate truth as opposed to giving me any sense of clairvoyance.
Who knows maybe I’m conflicted; because I actually keep an abundance of records only difference is I do it for different reasons, but I have to admit that when I look back at these records I do look back at them fondly.
However, I recognise that this effort to somewhat hold on to the values and meanings that were somewhat created through civilisations' collective existence is quite frankly exhausting: trying to stay alive and memorable for as long as possible.
I guess I said this because I’m not really me. Am I? I’m nobody. I was born a nobody and long enough after my death, I will die a nobody. Yes, there are a series of ideas, thoughts and compilations that have created this sense of who I am, and who I’m supposed to be, but when I retire I want to let go of all the things that made me rely on the idea that I was anything other, than just alive.
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