the sound of silence
I have a hard time with change. With endings. With the inevitable passage of time. None of this is helped by this garbage fire year, where I've struggled with my depression and a raging storm of PTSD that's come out howling out of the darkness while we fight the destruction of our democracy.
Last year my email was hacked, in one of those "state sponsored" attacks. I suspect it has to do with this journal, with a Russian name, with the weird fuckery of what's happening with LJ's servers going Russia side, with the horrifying things that seem to underpin everything now. Some weird things have happened over the years I've mostly brushed off, but it seems sinister in retrospect. Especially given the political situation, the reports of anti-queer violence becoming worse and worse, the stories we're seeing about gay men being rounded up in Chechnya, the complicit actions of the president. Things are bad.
Permanent Account - Created on 14 December 2000 (#33314)
I remember paying the $100 in the permanent account sale, which was a lot of money for university me. I remember the strangeness of searching journals, finding strangers and their lives. I remember what it felt like to reach across the strange dial up darkness on my computer, to find you.
Seventeen years of my life happened here. There is so much I could not even begin to summarize. This place has been my daily routine for seventeen years, and it aches to think of not having it.
But I can't stay here, for a lot of reasons.
I've got a DW account under the same name. I exist on twitter and tumblr under another name. My digital ghost roams. My email still works, the yahoo and the gmail. I'm writing, and I sort of hope to actually publish something. I've backed up everything in PDFS. I'm going to save the icons I love, give it a little time, and then I'll probably delete this. Even if it hurts, looking at that five digit user number. Farewell Brad and Frank the Goat and my twenty year old self who started this journal while working nights at a shitty dot com job.
A southern drawl, a world unseen
a city wall and a trampoline
well I don't mind
if you don't mind
cause I don't shine
if you don't shine
before you jump
tell me what you find
when you read my mind
- The Killers
Last year my email was hacked, in one of those "state sponsored" attacks. I suspect it has to do with this journal, with a Russian name, with the weird fuckery of what's happening with LJ's servers going Russia side, with the horrifying things that seem to underpin everything now. Some weird things have happened over the years I've mostly brushed off, but it seems sinister in retrospect. Especially given the political situation, the reports of anti-queer violence becoming worse and worse, the stories we're seeing about gay men being rounded up in Chechnya, the complicit actions of the president. Things are bad.
Permanent Account - Created on 14 December 2000 (#33314)
I remember paying the $100 in the permanent account sale, which was a lot of money for university me. I remember the strangeness of searching journals, finding strangers and their lives. I remember what it felt like to reach across the strange dial up darkness on my computer, to find you.
Seventeen years of my life happened here. There is so much I could not even begin to summarize. This place has been my daily routine for seventeen years, and it aches to think of not having it.
But I can't stay here, for a lot of reasons.
I've got a DW account under the same name. I exist on twitter and tumblr under another name. My digital ghost roams. My email still works, the yahoo and the gmail. I'm writing, and I sort of hope to actually publish something. I've backed up everything in PDFS. I'm going to save the icons I love, give it a little time, and then I'll probably delete this. Even if it hurts, looking at that five digit user number. Farewell Brad and Frank the Goat and my twenty year old self who started this journal while working nights at a shitty dot com job.
A southern drawl, a world unseen
a city wall and a trampoline
well I don't mind
if you don't mind
cause I don't shine
if you don't shine
before you jump
tell me what you find
when you read my mind
- The Killers