So much writing all in one day. I probably should have just written in my actual diary. But hey, that's for personal and emotional development. Blogging publicly is for sanity.
So I was just thinking about Facebook and my oh-so-many photos on there. It's an interesting chronicle of my life really, since Facebook has more about my last seven years than I care to remember.
And then I think of "all the lives I've lived..."
Maybe this doesn't happen to everyone. Maybe some people are the same as they've always been and nothing ever changes, but I am not one of those people. Through my travels especially, I have continuously morphed into my surroundings. Sometimes reluctantly, sometimes daringly. Nonetheless, I always have the memories of what's preceded me, and where I've come from--the journey. I think recently I became engulfed in my current life and forgot this.
My Facebook observation is this: those 700+ pictures, those countless "friends," those marked memories splashed across the internet are archives of what has really happened. They are evidence of my journey. And every place I move to or work at is somehow involved in what becomes "me," both in real life and in my digital life. So I guess I'm starting to recognize Facebook as something of a yearbook or autobiography even. But maybe that's giving it too much credit...
If Facebook chooses to show me memories that I have forgotten either by choice or circumstance, then what can it mean for people who are aging or becoming ill or living alone? Surely there must be some good in this machine that is not for sale or badge honor. If I can walk through the ups and downs of my life on Facebook and feel compelled to write about the journey, then surely there is a powerful force of good that I previously did not see.
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