A friend [hi Lauren, nice seeing you here, hope all is well, we don\’t get so many visitors here] posted videos on her private Instagram story of her family videos, the kind taped on a camcorder where you can hear the autofocus better than the dialogue. It got me feeling nostalgic, and I remembered that I have a hard drive that my father sent me a few years ago. I figured it was time to really sort through it. 

There were so many memories and pictures on that HDD that I had totally forgotten about. The funny thing about really forgetting is that you don\’t know how much you have forgotten unless you come back to it. —That\’s where I am right now.

The pictures are a mess, many unlabeled, with many duplicates, but mostly organized by date. 

Organizing these pictures that my father has given me is a metaphor for how I feel about him: thanks, it\’s meaningful, but it\’s a mess; it\’s a pain in the ass, but I\’m sure I can make something of this if I put effort into it.

It\’s Imbolc, or it was until the sun set. I\’m not sure what that means other than the fact that it\’s a synchronicity. 

There is so, so much to unpack. I\’ll leave pictures and sort through the ideas later.

This… this isn\’t how I was remembering the past. I have a lot of anger and resentment towards my past, much more than I deserve, especially my teenage years.

A ghost speaks, now you understand what Socrates meant that the Daimon is the guardian—the guardian shadow, preventing you from speaking or acting when you would rather have done so. 

Yes, he can be quite the tricky fellow.