Let me begin by saying that I'm sorry that I've neglected you for so long. I just tend to forget about your function and existence. You are to me but a poor utility device that I ignore, regularly. I delete many things, mainly because I use up and mess up many things, mostly photos and graphics. You bear the brunt of my erratic industry like a neglected filing cabinet or industrial archive space. A glory hole and dump that is seldom checked or maintained. You fill up and never complain, you seem infinite yet the space you have is real and I presume limited. Big fat files, stupid little ones, you never complain.
The thing that I wonder is, once in a while when I do bother to clear you out, where does all that digitally digested poo actually end up? Where is the output and spoil, the junk and the file effluent? Sometimes I suspect it's not deleted at all, like matter that cannot be destroyed. Ghosts and shadows and undying crap I simply can't see any more. You're not a bin or a recycling machine, you're a hiding place and your main task is to hide things from me. All for the long (or short) life of this device. You are a cloak of intrigue and invisibility, hiding my past sins, bad ideas and excesses in a place where, without some expensive hack or kindly, free, open sourced bot I'll never find them.
So thanks for those fleeting and pale memories, I've forgotten most of them already.
Yours sincerely,
The fingers that typed this.
No comments:
Post a Comment