There’s a new feature on my blog-updating site where I can set a time for a blog to expire: in effect, a self-destruct button. I was going to experiment with this and create a blog which only certain people would read before it disappeared. People who’d got there in time would hark back to it and talk in disproportionately glowing terms about how great it was, and it would become like a ‘lost work’, with those who missed out pining endlessly for the missed opportunity. I quickly realised though that in fact, it would just look like I’d failed to blog, and tens of people would be upset, and the people claiming they HAD definitely read a blog which ‘seemed to have vanished’ would look like deluded addicts who couldn’t face the truth of my failure.
So I won’t do that.
Time is a pretty fluid concept for me (and, indeed, for the universe) because I’m awaiting my flight from Sydney back to London. I’ve already made the mental adjustment back to UK time, so although it’s quite clearly afternoon outside, I’m pretending it’s 4am. When I get back home this should ensure that I’m not fazed by the different zones. Halfway home of course there’ll be Singapore to contend with and it could be any bloody time there, but I normally solve that by not even looking out of the window or acknowledging Singapore is there at all.
After enough world travel you start to get the odd sense that there is no such thing as ‘the real time’ because all the different zones mess with your brain a bit. In a sense of course this is accurate – time’s relative depending on where you are. But it does do your head in slightly. By the time I’ve come home and gone back down under again, I should more or less be completely mad. Luckily, that’s meant to be good for creativity. And the blog’s not been interrupted…