This is a thought that I had in my head. I was thinking to myself, what if we all have something special?
What if when we’re staying up for hours on end, saving information about this person or that person of things that interest you?
What if all these things that we hoped that we could see in person when we die, you’ll realize that you transported yourself there, and you were witnessing it as if you were there?
What if this period that we live in right now is really just saving and downloading and somehow being in one of those timeframes? So we’re all time travelers, and we really don’t die, but we just go to a different level?
What if we could be with all of those people that you wished you had met? The ones that you never got to see in concert? The book you didn’t get to read? The author you decided to become? That author writes books for you, and if you’re not a reader, sends pictures or videos, or movies? Can you imagine that?
Can you imagine yourself as that writer and deciding what stories she’s going to write about and other stories she does not cover? How would you feel? Would it make you sad? Would you be glad to be rid of me? Or simply not give a fuck? Maybe the author only has so many fucks to give. Do you want to give the fuck she gave to you to go away?
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What if? Written 8/10/2025 1:04am by The Luna Projects
They told us life was about choices, but no one mentioned we were archivists.
Every sleepless night, every hour lost to chasing the life of a poet long dead or the voice of a singer we’d never hear in person, these weren’t just idle obsessions. We were saving coordinates. Recording time-stamps.
We thought we were scrolling.
We were traveling.
When the body stops, the archive wakes.
And you find yourself not as a ghost, but as a passenger stepping out into the places you once dreamed of:
The smoky bar where the jazz legend plays one last set.
The quiet study where the author you almost became hands you a book you never wrote.
The moonlit city you glimpsed once in a photograph but could never name.
It is then you understand
We were always time travelers.
This world was only the download.
The next one is where you press *play*.
Above comment is the poem that I wrote from the Blog piece that same day and it was very interesting to transform it.