I wrote this with the help of AI due to lack of time when busy backing up files, but thought to share it here.
"Picture this: a successful website you have contributed to for more than a decade decides to shut its doors. How would you feel?
To me it feels like mourning a bygone era. It's like a punch to the stomach. Here's the thing: it's not just a platform that is closing down, but a digital world where my words, stories, pictures and videos of me and my dogs have lived for years.
The whole process feels almost like visiting an old attic full of cobwebs where you end up gathering old, dusty memories that offer a snapshot of the past.
Comments as Time Capsules
As I back up my articles, I stumble upon hundreds of comments from readers and authors and can't help but notice how the comments section wasn't just a casual afterthought.
Back then, the comments section was a vibrant hub of genuine exchange, a space where readers and writers came together to share their knowledge and personal experiences.
Back in those days, (I am talking about decades ago) the web wasn't as sophisticated and crowded as it is now, so the articles provided goldmines of information.
Readers often expressed heartfelt gratitude, their words brimming with appreciation for content that offered them practical help.
Writers, too, joined in the conversation, offering thoughtful feedback, encouragement, or sharing their past experiences and some additional nuggets of wisdom.
This was a time when online interactions were pure, less saturated with noise, and deeply meaningful. Such a far cry from cold platforms and the onset of AI!
The Words of Those Long Gone
As I began the process of backing up articles, what really brought a deep sense of nostalgia was reading through the comments from writers who were no longer around.
Reading their words felt like listening to faint echoes of the past. Although gone, their thoughts would now live on in my backups, frozen in time even as the site fades away.
Their words, encouraging, critiquing, or simply adding to the conversation will keep living on despite the hands that once typed them have long fallen permanently silent.
I have to admit that there something eerily comforting about this. Even though these contributors are deprived from their earthbound shells, it's as if they are still here.
Maybe they are scribbling away in some otherworldly writer's retreat? Perhaps there is a place where there are no deadlines and the supply of donuts and coffee never run out.
Scent and Words Sharing the Same Lasting Power
Perhaps it's ultimately true: writers never fully die. Their spirits live on, still fluttering around the pages, in the spaces between the lines or within the paragraphs.
These resurrected words from a bygone era remind me of how a dog's scent signature remains in place long after they've left - an invisible chemical trail still influencing those who pass through, only that the time lapse is longer in this case.
These beloved writers I have exchanged thoughts with many times, may be now gone, but surely, their influence persists to present time.
Presence is more than being a tangible feature of in this physical world; it's more about the impact you leave behind, whether this happens through words or the invisible traces of a loyal companion.
What endures is not the body, but the quiet continuity of influence, carried forward each time their words are remembered and returned to.
We are ultimately all here to leave our mark in some way or another!
Best wishes to all authors, and may you be blessed with a bright future full of inspiration!
