who goes there, traveler?

I'm a little lost when it comes to my presence on the internet. I don't know what I'm curating, if I am curating. The two things that really appeal to me on the internet are 1) archiving audio/visual material, and 2) the possibility of interacting with a stranger i would never know otherwise. i don’t believe in soulmates in the traditional sense of the word, but web is proof that multiple exist. The internet exacerbates the process of people interacting with and transforming each other, for better (without the internet u would never have come across ur friend's cousin's absolutely fire photo acc on instagram with 57 followers), and for worse (dating apps)(u can speed up connection but u cant speed up love)(and pedo ring chat forums)(it rly isn't all daisies I guess). but anyway, why am I here? to continue searching for things to document? Is it the safety of interacting with people from a distance that appeals to me? Neither really sounds right. [...] I think maybe I just want to escape to a white place somewhere far away. I want to go to the void. The internet, being virtual, is the closest thing. And it appears to me that uncommon ground is just as searchworthy as common ground. Surfing the web --> washing up on far shores. [void]

let's all go down to the creek sometime

I have an instagram collection called psyclone, and I reference it more than any other of my digital archives. I have a lot of visual materials saved on other platforms, like my google drives, but this collection, my most recent, is my personal favorite right now. In the past I've used Youtube playlists to collect video but i'm realizing that instagram allows me to find more obscure short-form stuff. Short-form is so beautiful. A short-form video is like a poem, as opposed to long-form content whose parallel might be closer to an epic or prose. I love video so much. I really think videos are dreams somehow. Below is an example of something i'd save to psyclone, it's from the account @digicamvids.

this is an indefinite and very incomplete list of my muses (other than the Field): bodies of water, found video, everything Damian Ojeda has ever been a part of (Sadness, Comforting, etc.), things my friends say/make, Carson, Bolano, Labatut, manmade structures and the writing that's usually on them, the human body when it's dancing, rural places, clearings in a forest, the human body when it's fighting, devices released between 2004 and 2009 (like the Nokia Megapixel or LG's VX-8000), the spikey-haired and spunky "teenage older brother/sister" archetype of the early 2000s, whom a younger, wide-eyed sibling might alternately loathe or look up to, my monthly playlists, things that dwell in lagoons, religion as commodity, the modern lack of acts of God

Maybe I don't have muses, or even one muse, maybe my mind is all filled with images and sounds from TV and songs I've heard all jumbled together and none of it makes a cohesive picture and only serves to make me nostalgic when I encounter certain smells. No learning or happiness comes out of it