Feeling things about names and history. I just read a post about how some names have been used for centuries and how the earth has heard thousands of years of mothers calling out the name Alexander and friends shrieking for their Mary. And I’m just like. These are the names people remember. I keep reading things about beautiful memories; a child making a mad dash in a recently poured concrete slab for a basement, an Oma sharing stories about trading her finest with a Native American woman. I keep seeing people write things about how future archeologists will cry when they find our remains like how we cry seeing kitten paws in ink on the back of manuscripts and penises doodled in Da Vinci’s sketchbook.
Were there ancient archeologists? People in places we know the name of but not the location digging up memories that ended up forgotten again? Did people ever think that preserving their receipts and hate mail would get the global recognition over two thousand years later?
I’m feeling things about names being used for thousands of different people who claim it as their own and in that space in that time it does only belong to them. And I’m feeling things about the names that were used for hundreds of years and probably won’t be used for a long time coming.
Feeling things about names I will never know
Alexa send post.
