Old hard drives
In looking for a picture from college (of me drawing a map of Manhattan by hand), I had to spray dust an old PC and load up a forgotten hard drive, but in the process I got distracted for an hour by everything on there. It was like looking through the files of a dead person. Obviously it was me. Maybe a better metaphor: it felt like reintegration in Severance. Supposedly, I made all these files, but I only remember 10% of them. I’m reading old “logs” of mine from 2011 and it’s unrecognizable. It’s like the old self was a shreddable passthrough entity that somehow got me to here. And now I wonder if I’ll look back at my logs in 2039, and have some weird moment of embarrassment/appreciation for documentation.