Pretend to be a Time Traveler Day

   Maybe I already am a time traveler. Or perhaps my "past lives" are too prominent in my current life. Why else would I be so magnetically drawn to a different time? I just don't feel like I belong here. Surely I'm not the only person out there like this. Or maybe I'm just crazy and should be committed?

   Yes, I am on the internet. The internet is like the old corner store where townsfolk hung out, got their news, and got their gossip. There was probably always someone that nobody listened to-that would be me. I am here, I shout, but nobody listens. That's okay. But I shun most other "newfangled" things of today. I do not own a smartphone. I hate pretty much all new music. I read real hold-in-your-hand books. I use real hold-in-your-hand maps. I cling to the past as if it's going somewhere, because it is. My neck snaps when I see a cemetery or old building. I cry for the old buildings that are torn down to make way for ugly boring unimaginative new ones. I feel a desperate need to photograph them before they are taken away and left only to someone's memories. And then when those people and their memories are gone, those places are truly gone.
   When you see an old abandoned home, think about it. Someone lived there. Maybe even over a hundred years, many generations of people lived there. Maybe people were born there. Maybe others died there. Their whole lives were in that house. Why did they leave it abandoned? Was it hardship? One last person who died and nobody else took possession? A better opportunity in another town? The bank takes the home and then lets it rot? So many things go through my mind every time I see a forgotten home or business. And it makes me incredibly sad. I'm typing this through tears right now.
   I can't save them all. Heck, I can't save any of them. But I can try to save their memory. That's what I do. For some odd reason I don't want them to be forgotten. And too many times I really wish I wasn't living in this time period now. Sure, everyone looks back at "the good old days" fondly. It's usually to a time they remember, except I look back to times I couldn't possibly remember because I wasn't there. A film called "Midnight in Paris" covered this subject. Owen Wilson magically goes to 1920s Paris, a time period he loves, where he hangs out with Picasso, Hemingway and other artists. But the girl he falls for there wishes she were back in the 1890s. Maybe we all just wish we were somewhere else.
   So you can pretend to be someone from the future thumbing your nose at the lack of progression in our time. Or be someone from the past who is in this current time, aghast(or amazed) at the gadgets of today. I will continue to be that person from the past who is stuck here and really wishes they were home, back in the past.