I was going through my old blog, which is shortly facing erasure, and it’s a strange experience.
I wrote there for almost seven years, which is a long span of time. I went through a couple of jobs, graduated from two schools, traveled around quite a bit. I went from wanting to be a paleontologist to committing to the idea of being a writer. I (hopefully) grew as a person and slowly turned into the person I am now.
And it’s all, more or less, captured there. All those little stages and giant leaps in me, captured in words (my words). I can see the changes in what I talk about, how I talk about it, what I’m focusing on in general. Reading it, I can’t help but think of those Dylans, the ones who wrote those entries, as different Dylans, people apart from me. “I didn’t write that. That was that OTHER Dylan.”
And it’s disturbingly personal. Seeing these changes, up for everyone to see, the things I talked about then. I’m not so sure I’d talk about half the things I used to. I think I’m more careful, less impulsive. I hope anyway. And this blog, where I’m writing now, has a stronger focus on writing and I’m planning for it to be a very public thing. The last one…more personal, more intimate, more about who I was. And, for that reason, I’ll be glad to see it go. I feel exposed with it sitting there, out in the open, available for anyone to see it. The one blessing is that it was never very popular.
But I’ll still be sad to see it go. It has affected my life in a lot of ways, some small, some big and some extremely big.
I’ll miss it, but I’m still going to burn it down this Monday.