Within 34 years of life on this Earth, I am reaching a transitional time not only within myself but at a time point in human existence where recognition of time’s value is apparent. A slow progression over the year (or two) of my time being sucked into the abyss of the internet, the degradation of my attention to the world, and a loss of wonder to the infinitely accessible knowledge we possess at our fingertips.
While turning my attention to observation, I frequently loop the constant internal debate of my existence, and how do we know we exist? What are we besides a sentient body moving through a world we might have thought into existence in the first place? Well, my simple answer to my own ponderings is that I have become a collection of memories and experiences that have shaped what I am and how I operate in life.
Reflecting upon the question “how are we aware of our existence?” created a desire to peek back at my 11 years of journaling to feel again what it means to be human, to experience growth in myself that is validated by these symbols I marked on pages (possibly the only proof that I have shifted through time).
So here is to the start of inexistence, a fortnightly reflection of my life so far – a drop of human in the merging natural and electronic world.
A step back to times when a pen and paper could mark a point of time, a point of existing in the world, brought to the electrons of this media.
inexistence 