Sometimes it seems like certain things can’t help but disappear.

You can do what I do, always backing things up on your computer for a false sense of technological security. Having two, even three copies of the things I’d lost before on disks and key drives and emailed to every account I’ve ever had.

You can be like I am, and just become so afraid that everything you have, (my whole life’s thoughts and ideas, all written and saved into thousands of Word files), will just disappear into thin air...as though if the words weren’t right there on the screen looking back at you to prove it, then the feelings themselves didn’t exist at all.

But now I’m tired and thinking of giving up on backing things up altogether. Because I don’t see the point in making sure you always have so much security when you’ll eventually one day just have no warning when the blue screen of death decides to strike anyway - with is cryptic language and menacing neon glare, and suddenly, all of a sudden, everything is lost before you even had a chance to try to save it.

It’s like a last look in an airport or on a street corner or when a subway pulls away from the station and you know it’s a passing moment you just can’t save no matter how much you want to. It is destined to forever be lost, and no amount of saving (or saving as) can change that —(ruined hard drive, email obliterating virus and corrupted mainframe...poof! ). So then what’s the point in the end in going back and going back to all of the lost last looks of a life gone by, when in the end you are powerless to their eventual disappearances, as they sneak out the backdoor, seducing the hangman on the way out.