(This post is re-printed from another blog i used to have. The old blog was on an adult site that i don't go to anymore. Over the next little while i'll be re-posting my favourite posts from my old blog to this new blog site).
i've invented a time travel machine and i can travel either 100 years back in time or 100 years forward in time. i'm allowed to take one other person with me.i'm trying to decide which way to go. The only problem is that it will be a one way trip with no return to the present day.If you want to travel with me then let me know if you want to go back to the year 1908, to visit your great great grandparents or forward to the year 2108 to visit your great great grandchildren.Make a careful decision because once we go we cannot return.....post your comment as soon as possible.....
love from,
tara
Monday, December 8, 2008
Please remember me when i die....
(This post is re-printed from another blog i used to have. The old blog was on an adult site that i don't go to anymore. Over the next little while i'll be re-posting my favourite posts from my old blog to this new blog site).
My family can trace back our ancestors to my parents great grandparents. Most of my friends can't even go back that far. i keep wondering about all of the lost generations of my ancestors who walked on this planet many years ago. They are lost in the dustbin of history......Absolutely no memories are left of them.....It makes me feel sad...With the invention of photography in the 1800's it became easier to preserve the memories of people....Video tape, film and digital images also will aid in recording a families' memories...But who is going to care one hundred years from now? i can look at old photos of my great grandparents but i have no real memories of them.Our ancestors probably had the same type of worries that we have.....about love; money; and health....i wish that there had been a central registry kept throughout history to record each family's ancestors.....their names; dates of birth; occupations; etc. Next time you visit an antique store you probably will see a box of old photographs showing interesting looking people wearing old fashioned clothes....All of them are long gone and no one even wants their pictures now....They have disapperead from everyone's memories...Its as though they never existed at all. Yet each one was once a special individual....now nothing but dust....When i was little i left my hand print in some wet cement on the sidewalk in front of my parents' house. Yesterday, i noticed that my hand print has almost completely disappeared after all these years...its as though i am already fading from view....after i die, i will be like my hand print...just a fading lost memory.....Will any of you remember me years from now? i'm scared of being forgotten.....
love, tara
My family can trace back our ancestors to my parents great grandparents. Most of my friends can't even go back that far. i keep wondering about all of the lost generations of my ancestors who walked on this planet many years ago. They are lost in the dustbin of history......Absolutely no memories are left of them.....It makes me feel sad...With the invention of photography in the 1800's it became easier to preserve the memories of people....Video tape, film and digital images also will aid in recording a families' memories...But who is going to care one hundred years from now? i can look at old photos of my great grandparents but i have no real memories of them.Our ancestors probably had the same type of worries that we have.....about love; money; and health....i wish that there had been a central registry kept throughout history to record each family's ancestors.....their names; dates of birth; occupations; etc. Next time you visit an antique store you probably will see a box of old photographs showing interesting looking people wearing old fashioned clothes....All of them are long gone and no one even wants their pictures now....They have disapperead from everyone's memories...Its as though they never existed at all. Yet each one was once a special individual....now nothing but dust....When i was little i left my hand print in some wet cement on the sidewalk in front of my parents' house. Yesterday, i noticed that my hand print has almost completely disappeared after all these years...its as though i am already fading from view....after i die, i will be like my hand print...just a fading lost memory.....Will any of you remember me years from now? i'm scared of being forgotten.....
love, tara
Thursday, October 30, 2008
dust bin of history
When i shop at stores that sell antiques i sometimes come across old diaries and piles of old letters...its so sad to read these old items from the 1800's...the people write about their thoughts and feelings...their worries...their hopes...their fears...and their loves. To me it's like they're my friends and i get a strange empty scary feeling when i realize that all of them are long dead...only bones and dust. Sometimes there are even old photographs of the authors...and i look into their eyes...and wonder what might have been...
What might have been had i been born decades ago?...if i had known these long forgotten people...if i had held them close to me...
My name would be set out in their letters...maybe my photograph would be pasted in their diaries...faded...brittle...cracked. And it would be you...you reading about me...you looking at my picture...and you wondering what might have been...
Travel through time to me...come to me...kiss me and hold me tight before i spiral away into the dust bin of history.
love from,
tara
What might have been had i been born decades ago?...if i had known these long forgotten people...if i had held them close to me...
My name would be set out in their letters...maybe my photograph would be pasted in their diaries...faded...brittle...cracked. And it would be you...you reading about me...you looking at my picture...and you wondering what might have been...
Travel through time to me...come to me...kiss me and hold me tight before i spiral away into the dust bin of history.
love from,
tara
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