#oneaday Day 559: You Can’t Go Back

What’s done is done. However much you might want to turn back time and do things again, the oft-requested Quicksave feature for Life has never made an appearance in several million years of patches, so I’m pretty much sure that we’re stuck with our broken save system with permadeath.

In seriousness, though, a bit of nostalgia-tripping through some old podcasts that some friends and I used to make (long before the Squadron of Shame got all podcasty) reminds me that time has indeed passed — and quite a bit of it. Certain people are no longer in my life. Certain people have shifted to the peripheries of my life. Many of the things I used to do are distant memories. And, of course, I’m no longer 26 years old, as my girlfriend Andie is so keen to point out. (She’s going to be on the receiving end of plenty of revenge when she turns 30. Oh yes indeed.)

This sense of change is made all the more prominent in the digital age, given that it’s entirely possible to leave a trail of digital detritus across the entire Internet. Some of it gets lost, but some of it remains here and there as evidence of things that are constant and things that aren’t.

The aforementioned Gaming with Pedwood podcast MySpace page, for example, is still there, as is, for that matter, my page. (Buggered if I can remember the login details for either of them, though.)

A short-lived attempt at blogging the life of a teacher is also still present and correct, a follow-up to a series of emails I sent during my PGCE. I thought I wrote more than that, but as you can see, it tails off pretty quickly as I discovered that the life of a teacher, particularly in a dodgy chav-infested rathole that was £500k in the red was, in fact, rather stressful, and I thought it would be perhaps unwise to chronicle all that in a totally honest manner at the time.

And my 1up.com page is still up and running, featuring possibly some of my earliest attempts at games-related blogging.

Sadly, a couple of sites are nowhere to be seen. You can get at the Angry Jedi site as far back as 2003 via the Wayback Machine but sadly some of the links and pictures are broken, meaning that some of the MP3 files we created are gone forever. The site I put together for the University of Southampton Theatre Group can also be found via the Wayback Machine — including the very early example of blogging that I did using a Palm Tungsten, a 32MB SD card, a card reader and an Internet café. High tech!

The site that I’m pretty sure I had at petedavison.com — my first experience with WordPress, no less — is nowhere to be seen, unfortunately. And the site I constructed at university, known as Studio A33 (after my first year flat) which distributed the various dodgy Klik and Play games my friends and I created, is also conspicuously absent. This is a great shame, as I had a tremendous urge to play Hobbit Blasters recently. I’m sure it’s lurking on a CD somewhere in the garage.

Life moves on at a rate far too rapid for our liking sometimes. It’s pleasing to come across such fragments of our digital lives from time to time, as it reminds us of where we’ve come from, both good and bad places. But we can’t go back — however hard you might want to try and recapture the feelings you describe in these digital fragments, you need to accept that it ain’t ever going to happen.