Life in cyberspace grows. Much like life in flesh and blood, it tends to leave behind a trail of dirty, sordid and depressing stains that usually goes unnoticed until someone decides to take a deep long breath and dive into the muck to uncover them lil jewels and bring em back out to the open.
Okay, seriously, it wasn't all so dirty, sordid or depressing. In fact it has probably been a pretty enjoyable trip out here so far. If it has been all so depressing, I probably would've committed cybersuicide or something.
Something struck me though when I was just rummaging through my Inbox to finally rid the crap thats jamming up space. Yep, I saw all them old emails crammed up in there; emails that I have thought at some point of time in my life that this mail was 'important!' and couldn't actually bear to send the 'cherished' bits and bytes to the cyber-shredder located in the other room marked 'Thrash Folder'.
My intrigue got the better of my common sense this night. I started clicking on those emails again, just to re-read those emotion-filled, oft-corny but mostly depressing content. I also started reading my replies to the said mails (leftovers from the very considerate folks , who had actually left my reply to their mail on their reply to my mail, just so that I could remember what the hell started the whole mailing thing in the first place!).
It reads like a diary, albeit a sporadic one at best. Sporadic, not because of time lapse or anything; it's just my own deceitful nature of deciding to keep the 'sweetest' moments in my Inbox. (I am sure you do it too!). But alas! The lil bastard finally stripped it's 'sweet' disguise and bares it's nasty teeth.
Hell, sweet deceit is just reality sharpening it's teeth. Once it bites, its freakin depressing.
It's depressing because it reminds me that the moments didn't last.
It's depressing because I am reliving the broken promises.
It's depressing because I am reminded of stupid decisions that I have made.
It's depressing because I have rereading things I shouldn't of have said.
It's depressing because I remember that I cared.
How ironic, that the sweetest moments in life could hurt so bad later eh?
Ah well. I am still diving through my muck of an Inbox. I am sure there is more than just the depressing bits in here somewhere. It is just a bit harder to find.
Somehow, hurt and pain just seem to stick out more. Like a sore thumb.
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