Dead Links, Good Hearts.

I sorted my favourites folder today.
I know… I should have been working, but it's a task that has been burning a hole in me for years.

It told a tale of time passing.

Not particularly of my personal tastes becoming redundant, because they are a remarkably constant thing (and I will tell you why I know this tomorrow).
I like to think of myself as a grower but I know I'm really a broken record.
At least, I am able to console myself with the idea that that record is the theme tune to Dempsey and Makepeace.
And I'm willing to bet there isn't a human alive, with that information to hand, that would then doubt my grit.

But many of the links that I have saved.....of websites I wanted to revisit, ideas that took my fancy, businesses I thought were potentially wonderful. Many of those links of technologies that I thought would enhance my life, or enhance me, many of those links were well ...dead.

I wondered why.

I initially thought they represented a huge waste of human potential, a mistimed idea, the right dream – the wrong place – the wrong time, a bubble of hope. Burst.
And then I thought, maybe they were hugely successful and they were taken over by big multinationals and they're all living in the Bahamas.
And after that I thought, 'Don't be ridiculous, you were right the first time'.

All those energies, and emotions, and relationships, and beliefs, all of those ideas, now extinguished.
Dormant.
Dead.

Do you want me to tell you that life is about dead links?
Well I'd love to. (It would make it a lot easier to wrap this up).
But I'm afraid I can't. You've got the wrong guy.

I never look at photographs.
But I live in the texture of what they represent.
I live in the album of how I got here.
I think I do that because it feels current.
Real.
Honest.

I can't think of a dead link in my life that I don't see as a continuum.
Don't get me wrong. I do try to draw lines under things, but I still know that they are things that I have drawn lines under.
I am aware of the process, of my conscious imprint on events that I may have had a tenuous grip on.

So my brain is not full of dead ends. There are a lot of unexplored highways, and but only one or two loose ends awaiting fastening.

You can do a three-point turn even in a cul-de-sac.
But a road that leads to a precipice is just a bridge you haven't yet built.