What non-euclidean map includes the places we are gone from?
—Alan Moore, "The Map Drawn in Vapour"
Prompted by a thread in the forums I took a look at my old dA account, painkiller
. I was at first embarrassed. I used this account when I was younger and had less sense. I was an absolute drama queen and I had this thing for quoting songs ALL THE TIME. Was it as a bad as the time I used to go on goth dating websites? Probably. Aw, shit, why did I have to remember that too
But soon the embarrassment gave way to something different. A killing sadness of sorts. If I may copypaste something I wrote in the thread that prompted this:
The feels come from looking at the comments on my page and seeing all those people I used to know, those kind folk and amazing artists, some of whom even considered me a friend. Many accounts deactivated, others left adrift. I haven't spoken to these people in almost a decade . . . what the hell happened? How does people that close end up drifting apart like that?
Some people followed me into this account, some I followed back. Some I still have contact with, however infrequently. But the bulk of those account, all those people who at point seemed important (no, they were
important), I haven't kept in touch since then. What I mean is, sometimes you meet people and you imagine they'll play a big part in your life. Next thing you know they're gone. And sometimes you meet people very briefly, but their impression lingers.
Curiously enough I was talking about this with a friend not long ago. I expressed my concern that maybe it's not a good idea to try and rekindle all those old friendships. Paraphrasing Justin Isis, an author I admire: the people we knew are long dead, buried by the people now with their name. So this whole experiment turned rather bittersweet results.
Incidentally, I'll try to use dA more often. At the moment that means more comments, but I'll see about trying to produce new art. Can't promise anything on that regard, though.