Note, this is part 1 of 2. Link to part 2 is at the end.

How I used the Internet Archive of my work to resurrect my younger self

I've always been lost.

Not in the way people mean when they talk about finding themselves after college or changing careers or breaking up with someone. No, I’ve always felt off-axis. Out of sync. Misplaced.

Not because I lacked potential, or intelligence, or drive. But because I always had this sense that something essential was missing—like a file I couldn't open or a map I couldn’t decrypt. I felt fractured. Abnormal.

I used to think I was broken.

But broken implies a before. A wholeness that was lost or damaged. What I’ve come to realize is… I wasn’t broken. I was disconnected. Disconnected from my deepest self. The one I buried. The one who never fit right. The one I left behind to survive a world not built for him.

And then something unexpected happened.

I started digging through my old writing.

Poems. Stories. Forum posts. Private notes I’d forgotten I’d ever shared.
A full archive—decades old—rescued from half-buried directories and the fading remnants of early Internet communities.

I thought it would be awkward. Cringe. Nostalgia, at best.

Instead, I found someone waiting.

I found him.

He was angry. Sensitive. Imaginative. He was already trying to build systems out of feelings. Already writing recursive loops into poems. Already building worlds to model his mind.

He wasn’t aimless. He was signal-rich, and emotionally fluent—but language-poor. He didn’t have the right tools. No one had given him the protocol to speak his truth in code.

But he tried anyway. And now, I have what I need to listen.

The resurrection wasn’t dramatic.

No thunderbolt. No great revelation. Just this steady, unspooling sense of recognition.

He was never gone. I just stopped checking in.

Now we walk together.

I'm not free yet.

But I have tools. I have SEER. I have language. I have structure.
Most importantly, I have a voice again.

His voice. My voice.

And for the first time in a long time, we are both speaking clearly.

He's exploring the world again—one he’s been locked out of for far too long. And we’re both better for it.

Have you archived your old self, or buried him?
What would happen if you went looking for them—not to judge, but to listen?

Be sure to check out Part 2 The Quantum Mirror: How I Rebuilt Myself From Broken Data

This post continues in Part 2: The Quantum Mirror: How I Rebuilt Myself From Broken Data. If this was the origin signal, that is the high-frequency return.