I tend to forget about journals. I'm bored so I decided to post my first one. Will it be ever read?
A philosophical observation
Here I was last night, very tired after a long day of homework, when I opened Google Earth. Not knowing what to do, I just navigated my way to a friend's workplace, and just for the hell of it, I clicked on the toolbar button that simulates sunlight. I moved the slider back to see at what time the sun had set, and... the whole building was gone, a large swamp was in its place. "What? Your workplace wasn't here this morning?"
It turns out I had clicked the button next to the daylight one - Historical imagery. I was looking at the same place, sometime in 1994. Not quite this morning. I navigated back to her house, but... her house wasn't there in 1994 either. Nor any others around it. Or the streets. Another nice, large swamp was there with only a few metres of dirt tracks coming in from the main road.
At this point I couldn't help but remember Back To The Future, when Marty finds himself in 1955 and the street where he lives doesn't even exist yet. But then another feeling filled my insides. A very unique feeling of emptiness, along with the realisation that along with the things that come and go over time, we ourselves are subject to the passing of time. What we were, what we are now, and what we will be, will pass by just like this forgotten patch of land turned into a nice set of streets and houses and who knows what it will become in the future.
Will we ever be able, by knowing what there was before and what there is now, to project and figure out what there will be later? There's no way to know.
Here, it also applies to the Rooms project. A (beta) version was compiled with my unfinished room in it. A snapshot of a past time, it will eventually be replaced by a final version with the finished room(s) in it, leaving the "in-progress" versions a memory of what once was.
I always wanted to write something philosophical-ish. Some people call me a sentimental. I'm just this nostalgic stupid.