Killing My Darlings

Made a decision to delete as much of my past work from the internet as possible. This wasn’t a hundred percent successful. Search engines still manage to unearth a few pieces on lingering defunct online publications that I have no access too, or, who ignored me when I asked if they would delete my stuff. But, for the most part, the vast majority of my online writing is kaput.

The stuff that appeared in print. Well, one can peruse the periodical archives at the library. Same goes for the internet archive. Enter my name, do a little click-digging, et voila. But that requires effort where my intent is to avoid accidentally bumping into my old work. Sort of like asking a party host if your ex is invited before committing to attend their soirée.

As to the why behind this, I can only say I’m trying to close a chapter. It was a good chapter, brilliant in a lot of ways, but it’s done now.

As humans, I’m not sure we were meant to have our previous lives so accessible as they are online. It’s one thing to pour a whiskey and pull out a photo album to traipse down amnesia lane. It’s quite another to constantly bump into your history while living in the present which is a journey to your future which is purposely different from your past. While it’s true our previous experiences make us who we are, it’s also true that a huge part of that process relies on the perception of our memories which is affected by our previous experiences.