# Timelessness. By [devonhdolan](https://paragraph.com/@devonhdolan-2) · 2022-12-13 --- Hello! Well, this is it. The final issue. I just want to say thank you. This has been a wild five-year run. You’ve played witness to some of the most pivotal moments of my life – from getting married, to quitting my dream job, starting my own company, moving countries, preparing to have a kid, living through a pandemic, going broke, turning it around, travelling the world… A series of high-low… like my taste. Inputs. All these personal events shape who I am, and inform the way I view our world, its people and their art. Of time and place; both local and global. A committed memory, not forgot. Our history, is always to be relived. It rhymes cyclical. We are all but a reflection of our environment. We are its living relics. Sensory civilization. Culmination, a chronology. My memory is overwritten, but these words might last. They are captured physically and digitally. A restoration of my values and style. Sans story. To back-scroll is to find a ledger; of information, of experience. A sign, of the times, its scrawled context, my own. No algorithmic, artificial malintent. My timeline of 250 open artifacts. Imagination. We imprint ourselves on our world, envision ourselves in its characters. We compare and contrast. We succumb to its branching narratives; its alternate histories and potential futures. Choices. The leaves, but traces of story. We adore, explore, these narratives – and perceive their boundless opportunity. Modal-medium. Deconstruction. A story’s primitives are a tapestry woven together. An operatic symphony. The settings, places to inhabit. The characters, identities to wear. The items, assets to wield. All are designed to be remixed and remade… bend genre and culture, in more media-forms. A new wave, a sum of its parts. A film is the ultimate creative composition, our shared collaboration. Aestheticism obsession… eroticism. Recreation. The human effort is the creative process; a joy, a strain. Our personal inference, not by computer interference. Our notes turn chords, form words to songs. La vie est musique. Inspiration. The motivation, a cathartic chase; emotional therapy, closure, desire. An investigation into our psyche and philosophy. The nature of our relations, of our mind, of society. It all matters, we care. Your worldview has meaning. Morale. Zero metaphors, lateral thoughts, pattern abstractions. It was a daydream. Consumption. The fractal impact on the lone individual. The singular audience, an artist. Of your own making. The creator, is you, thinks of you. Voyeurism. In the subway. In the theater. In the living room. Everywhere, nowhere. Now, here. Together. Intimacy. Stories allow everyone to be creative, to have soul. They welcome a peek into the others’ lives, a glance behind the curtain. We are all editors, curators, stitching together the fabric of our own experience. The profound and the personal. Spirits lost. Outputs. We are our world’s products, walking conversations, of the time. It accelerates. Generational demure. In sporadic moment. My diary aflame. The inner monologue must draw to a close, to be born again. The children of tomorrow allow us to see the world, its history and its stories, through fresh eyes. I can’t wait to be a dad. To enjoy our memories. Here today, gone tomorrow. Nothing lasts forever. ![](https://storage.googleapis.com/papyrus_images/1e8f7e0f13d35b99c7fedff9250eed8e0480ecb89c2f744ae5f67be9a618c4f1.jpg) That’s all for now. Thanks for reading. Replay the hits. See ya next time. --- *Originally published on [devonhdolan](https://paragraph.com/@devonhdolan-2/timelessness)*