I thought I was creating something "eternal". Today, it dawned on me that this blog will actually die with me.
I don't really know what to think of this revelation yet, I hope I will by the time I'm done writing this.

This website is going to die with me since the domain service I use won't receive monthly payments anymore. What a sad reflection of today's world, a greedy world.
Why can't this company let me use the domain after my death? How can they erase my website? Not only will it become inaccessible, but Google and other search engines will gradually remove it from their index, erasing all traces of its existence. How can they allow this to happen?

I should mention: I'm hosting this on Netlify, which means there's already a free domain associated to the website, earendelmir.netlify.app, that will definitely outlast the main one I pay for. Not even that will last forever, I know, but it might extend the site's lifespan by a few more years. However, I doubt anyone would easily find it at its "new" location, once the main domain goes down.

I don't know why I'm worrying about this, I'm still in my twenties, and I hopefully have many more twenties to live fully. Technology might evolve, society might improve, and perhaps domains used for personal websites might be granted eternal life! That's the hope, at least — a fool's hope.
What those greedy companies fail to realize (or choose to ignore) is that personal websites are "small" pieces of art and a testament to our time on this planet. They are our tiny footprints, each belonging to a unique human soul, a chest hoarding thoughts, and opinions, fears, dreams, and memories. Some people pour their entire selves on their site, making it an horcrux — better yet! A Ring of Power. If those at the top could see this, perhaps they would change things and allow for our sites to be kept alive "forever". Instead, all of this will soon be lost. For shame...
I said footprints. Footprints in the sand.
And I know what I'm asking for is unfeasible, but I'm fond of what I've created, and I guess that, deep down, every man has in his heart a desire to leave his mark in this world.

i'm picturing the colosseum while writing. does that mean i'm subconsciously comparing a directory of files to an ancient architectural wonder?

I realized, by writing this, how little we are in control of the technology we use. I own the computer, and the keyboard, but the OS is not mine, nor it is the editor I'm writing on. I don't own the server hosting my site — I don't even know what or where it is —, and (I've already established) I don't own the domain.
I'm just borrowing.

Many of the things we think we own, in fact are just borrowed. Even Life itself, called a gift by some, is borrowed. If a gift, then one with a strict return policy: mandatory, and with no refunds.

I own nothing, but I appreciate what I have more and more each day.
Today, I felt grateful for the warm sun, blessing my face in the cold morning; for the friends and colleagues I met and spent the day with; for the other friends of mine, with which I'm planning multiple trips; for my family; and for my website.
I'm grateful for this space, and I'm glad I started working on it that one winter day of last year. In a greedy world, I'm just happy I get to sit at my desk in the evening, reflecting on the day and pouring out my thoughts.

My ego would love for this blog to exist in perpetuity, allowing others to discover its contents even after I'm gone, but I accept that it won't. It has no reason to exist without me; its main purpose is to present me a reflection — no, multiple reflections — of my mind, over time. When I'm gone, what does it matter if others get to see this? No one will ever truly grasp my meaning as well as I can.

I realize now I'm simply coming to terms with a basic stoic principle: with my death comes the end of the world.
I'm sure in the eternal void I won't suffer any anxiety of the type "wait, I forgot to pay my monthly fee!", so why do it now? In the eternal void I won't be able to enjoy the warm sun on my face, nor the roaring laughter of my friends, so let's do it now!
Fuck you, greedy companies! I'm going to enjoy my time and be at peace.