Tonight, I’ve been going through the “blogs” menu on my bookmarks list and noting that some of them have been on there for 8 or 9 years. Most are links I haven’t clicked on in 3 or 4 years, or else I bookmarked recently but never revisited despite intentions to do so. I decided to go through and delete any that were no longer relevant. Those I had allowed to drift but should resume reading, I’d put more prominently in the list. The rest would have to go.
I wrote last year about loss, “lost time”, losing touch. This isn’t the sharp pain I discussed back then, but still a poignant reminder of old memories, people I used to write to, would read regularly.
Some blogs have disappeared entirely: the addresses up for sale, or just “not found”. Others simply don’t post any more: one, the last post was over seven years ago. Others post, but only very rarely, or the subject matter has changed, or my interest in it has changed. Usually all three.
Some are reminders of a world, though so recent, that seems unfamiliar. A world pre-50SoG. A world pre-ConDem coalition. A world before I became serious about my writing, about my appearance.
Some are familiar, “Oh, yeah, I used to enjoy their posts”. Others are more poignant: people who for one reason or another (for instance, a real-life connection, or some shared conversation online that delved into what felt like deep parts of the soul) meant something more than just witty or wise words on a screen. But there are many sources of such thoughts in my life, and most of the time it turns out that I feel safer, or cannot see how a continued friendship would have sustained itself, once whatever circumstances threw us together had passed. I feel the same is likely to be true in the digital world and, in letting go now, I make it easier to hold onto the newer connections.