10 jun 99, cubicle #320799, netscape communications, mtn view ca. a mystery email appears in my mailbox: From: "t224825" <t224825@ctimail.com> To: <vson@unforgettable.com> Date: Thu, 10 Jun 1999 00:28:57 +0800 i do not recognize the email address as anyone i know.   no big deal, i get emails from new people all the time. but this has no subject line, and no message ... they've chosen not to identify themselves or write me any sort of greeting ... This message contains raw digital data, which can either be viewed as text or written to a file. What do you want to do with the raw data? 1 -- See it as text 2 -- Write it to a file Please enter the name of a file to which the data should be written (Default: vince.doc) > instead, just an MS Word attachment, entitled "vince.doc". very creepy. someone out there, who chooses not to say hello or even identify themselves, sends me a Word attachment with my name on it, presumably so i know it's meant for me personally, and not 1) random spam, or 2) an email sent to me by mistake. i feel like i've received a letter bomb -- like i could open up the Word document and have a virus come to life. or perhaps the file itself is harmless, but the content of the document will be something vulgar, or threatening -- my first online stalker(tm). paranoia consumes my thought processes. i sit blankly at the screen, a rare instance of total indecision. who the hell is this that sent this to me? i have to do something -- i can't sit here in front of the screen with a blank look on my face, wasting time, when i have a hundred other emails piled up behind it. i extract the attachment and place it in my "incoming" directory on my hard drive. the sheer unadulterated unknownness of what's inside the Word doc is unsettling. and it will continue to be there, waiting with endless calculated patience, until i either destroy it with a drag-and-drop to the trashcan, or bring it up in MS Word. why am i so unsettled at the thought of bringing this document up on my screen? because you are terrified of something adverse happening with no warning. you want some hint, you want to see it coming. you don't have the strength to be blindsided right now. i decide i'll run a virus scan on it first -- it would be the height of stupidity to ponder whether or not it has a virus, then just open it with no protection. or maybe i'll open it on a different machine -- spare my main PC from the possibility of infection. but if i offer up my work machine as a guinea pig, i should back up all my files and projects first. the absurdity of it all becomes frustrating -- going to so much effort, expending so much brain power on a tiny little attachment in a seemingly random email. it stares me in the face. From: "t224825" <t224825@ctimail.com> To: <vson@unforgettable.com> (Default: vince.doc) > if it didn't have "vince.doc" on the filename, i would've deleted it and moved on long ago. the fact that there's an imprint on there of something personal, something intimate, something intended for me, holds me back. can't i simply just abandon the past and move on? this innocuous, miniscule email attachment becomes a huge, monstrous metaphor. and i'm frightened on another level, as i type this journal entry. because my solution at this moment is to just leave it in limbo, unaddressed, no decision made to take a course of action. while it sits there, its answer hidden inside an unopened file, methodical, sinister in its all-knowingness, while me on the other side sits completely in the dark. ultimately, i do want an answer -- i want to know what i have made in my mind to be so goddamn important, when it could turn out to always have been completely, utterly, meaningless. maybe that's my fear ... that what i think had substance will actually be meaninglessness. even though the fact that someone put my name on it, involved me personally, by definition gives it meaning. and until i take that step, the silence will pound at my eardrums. leaving me wondering what is behind the silence: meaninglessness? or an awful secret, pregnant with blistering intensity. i can't believe i am finding metaphor here for the dark demon that consumes my insides -- for the storm clouds that rack my mind and emotions with lightning and cold, sheeting, shivering rain. i will save the journal entry, log out, turn off the pc. and at least act like i am forgetting about it. and perhaps if i act out that forgetting enough, the forgetting will someday become real. you know that's not true. you know that's not the solution. i think i am finally going insane.

Time goes from present to past.   - Dogen Zenji 1998: toward the light > 05 jan 99. they unavoidably change. 10 jan 99. we hide behind our screens. 17 jan 99. which path? 10 feb 99. extremely vivid dream. 20 feb 99. misc thoughts. 21 feb 99. surfer in the water. 23 feb 99. brainstorm 1: love output equation. 06 mar 99. sleeping under the 580. 14 mar 99. mingling. 23 mar 99. antidote for selfishness. 04 apr 99. little heartbreaks. 06 may 99. unexplained early rise. 15 may 99. brainstorm 2: human-web evolution. 15 may 99. storm on the horizon. 20 may 99. first drive. 28 may 99. 2nd flashback. 31 may 99. selective reality. 10 jun 99. the tell-tale email. 11 jun 99. exposure & tears. 13 jun 99. 5 seconds. 27 jun 99. visual effects artist. 03 jul 99. i close my eyes. 06 jul 99. healing touch. 09 jul 99. episode 11. 10 jul 99. dj rap in berkeley. 14 jul 99. 4 days after bt. 26 jul 99. struggling with Real. 30 jul 99. net trippin. 15 aug 99. san diego sparkles. 29 aug 99. skyy vodka ad fails. 09 sep 99. when the thoughts stop. 15 sep 99. foreboding. 20 sep 99. bubble states. 25 sep 99. waking. 06 oct 99. episode 16. 04 nov 99. brainstorm 3. feb 11. final entry. Linda.