I Am My Tabs

Today I finally caved. My computer was being retarded and hanging up on me. I figured this meant I needed to give it a little kick in the behind and restart it. I’d been putting it on sleep mode far too much cuz I didn’t wanna lose my browser tabs. Lame, I know. I could have just bookmarked them / downloaded some plugin that will reopen saved tabs / whatever genius techy solution. But no, instead I just left them there hanging, with me making snow angels in the comforting fact that they were there. Not that I was actively reading any of those pages, it was just nice having them there.

But today, it was clear I needed to do something about it. So I decided to spring clean my tabs. You know, actually click on them, look through what I still needed or didn’t need, save some links and chuck the rest. That’s when I realised how intimate and personal one’s browser tabs are, they practically tell a story about you and the secret going-ons in your brain, well, at least for that period of few weeks or months you had been hoarding those tabs.

I decided to consciously analyse (well, more like look until my eyes glaze over and just ponder/stone while kinda looking thoughtfully in the distance) mine to discover myself in a way I never had before. I don’t suppose one should take these things too seriously though. It’s practically what you click on on a whim. Yes, that was a disclaimer to put on record just in case any of what comes up seems to make me look stupid. I was information drunk, yo.

So. There were a couple of articles on writing tips, links to short stories (which I have yet to read), information about a local writing competition – calling for submissions for a cat-themed anthology no less. Some local skit probably parodying our national state of complaints, but it was $30 and I’m a bit hesitant to spend that kind of money nowadays. A dailymail article with stunning photographs of dancers striking acrobatic poses in city streets, inspiration for a shoot I’d like to do one day (as in being in front of the lens, though being behind the lens might be fun too). Two gmail accounts open, one for my professional life, and the other for its sleazy, grimy underbelly, otherwise known as my personal life. A couple of craigslist listings of pre-loved macbooks, dryers and toilet cleaning services. Too many thought catalog articles telling me the pros and cons of being single, that I am important, and numerous numbered lists of all the things I should have done before I was 25 (too late for that), or that I should stop after the age of 25 (not too late for this I guess). That real Singapore post about fellow Singaporeans exposing their disgusting opinions about molest. An AWARE page open to information about rape.  A couple of design taxi pages on fantastic typographic design, some pages on tips for creativity. A few purpose fairy articles on making the best of this life I’ve got. One page on the orgasm as art. Hmmm. An article on getting offline and actually living a life (how morosely ironic, really). A whole bunch of YouTube videos – The XX playlist, The Script playlist, “Chances Are” featuring RDJ & Vonda from those Ally McBeal days, the Glee mashup of “Crazy/You Drive Me Crazy”, Sarah Blasko’s cover of Outkast’s Hey Ya (ohemgee good), a half-watched episode of MasterChef US S3, and the choreography to G.NA’s 2HOT.

So what does this all mean? It means there are a lot of things I want to accomplish which I have not. It means I am struggling to fit all my dreams into the 24 hours a day that I currently have. It means what I thought about myself before is more or less accurate though. And that’s a good thing. I know who I am, and I know what I want. I’m glad I’m clear on that. I don’t think many people are. Now, just to make all the things I want to a reality.

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