mynotes

<p>...that all started with the Big Bang</p><p><a href="https://my-notes.dragas.net/2025/04/14/that-all-started-with-the-big-bang/" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="my-notes.dragas.net/2025/04/14/that-all-started-with-the-big-bang/"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">my-notes.dragas.net/2025/04/14</span><span class="invisible">/that-all-started-with-the-big-bang/</span></a></p><p>A door closed, but something stayed. Memories, echoes, and an episode still unwatched.</p><p><a href="/tags/blog/" rel="tag">#Blog</a> <a href="/tags/mynotes/" rel="tag">#MyNotes</a> <a href="/tags/memory/" rel="tag">#Memory</a> <a href="/tags/reflections/" rel="tag">#Reflections</a> <a href="/tags/home/" rel="tag">#Home</a> <a href="/tags/lifestories/" rel="tag">#LifeStories</a> <a href="/tags/slowweb/" rel="tag">#SlowWeb</a> <a href="/tags/nostalgia/" rel="tag">#Nostalgia</a></p>

<p>The Masks of Hypocrisy</p><p><a href="https://my-notes.dragas.net/2025/12/10/the-masks-of-hypocrisy/" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="my-notes.dragas.net/2025/12/10/the-masks-of-hypocrisy/"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">my-notes.dragas.net/2025/12/10</span><span class="invisible">/the-masks-of-hypocrisy/</span></a></p><p><a href="/tags/mynotes/" rel="tag">#MyNotes</a> <a href="/tags/world/" rel="tag">#World</a> <a href="/tags/people/" rel="tag">#People</a> <a href="/tags/life/" rel="tag">#Life</a> <a href="/tags/reflections/" rel="tag">#Reflections</a></p>

The Scent of a Photo<br><br>My smartphone just showed me a photo, taken exactly four years ago today. I published it on the Fediverse back then, showing nothing but enthusiasm for the great takeout food we had ordered.<br><br>The truth was different.<br><br><a href="https://my-notes.dragas.net/2026/01/28/the-scent-of-a-photo/" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="my-notes.dragas.net/2026/01/28/the-scent-of-a-photo/"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">my-notes.dragas.net/2026/01/28</span><span class="invisible">/the-scent-of-a-photo/</span></a><br><br><a href="/tags/mynotes/" rel="tag">#MyNotes</a> <a href="/tags/life/" rel="tag">#Life</a> <a href="/tags/reflections/" rel="tag">#Reflections</a> <a href="/tags/blogging/" rel="tag">#Blogging</a> <a href="/tags/memories/" rel="tag">#Memories</a><br>

The Virtue of Finished Things<br><br>An email asking if my software was abandoned made me realize how the ideal of completeness has disappeared from our lives. In an era of mandatory updates and disposable goods, I reflect on the value of boring software - the kind that is finished, reliable, and simply does its job.<br><br><a href="https://my-notes.dragas.net/2026/01/06/the-virtue-of-finished-things/" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="my-notes.dragas.net/2026/01/06/the-virtue-of-finished-things/"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">my-notes.dragas.net/2026/01/06</span><span class="invisible">/the-virtue-of-finished-things/</span></a><br><br><a href="/tags/mynotes/" rel="tag">#MyNotes</a> <a href="/tags/world/" rel="tag">#World</a> <a href="/tags/reflections/" rel="tag">#Reflections</a> <a href="/tags/it/" rel="tag">#IT</a> <a href="/tags/life/" rel="tag">#Life</a> <a href="/tags/blogging/" rel="tag">#Blogging</a><br>

The Mechanically Perfect Lie<br><br>A loud noise outside my window brings back a memory from 2002. The night I truly could have died.<br><br><a href="https://my-notes.dragas.net/2026/01/11/the-mechanically-perfect-lie/" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="my-notes.dragas.net/2026/01/11/the-mechanically-perfect-lie/"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">my-notes.dragas.net/2026/01/11</span><span class="invisible">/the-mechanically-perfect-lie/</span></a><br><br><a href="/tags/mynotes/" rel="tag">#MyNotes</a> <a href="/tags/blogging/" rel="tag">#Blogging</a> <a href="/tags/life/" rel="tag">#Life</a> <a href="/tags/reflections/" rel="tag">#Reflections</a> <a href="/tags/memories/" rel="tag">#Memories</a><br>

<p>The Mechanically Perfect Lie</p><p>A loud noise outside my window brings back a memory from 2002. The night I truly could have died.</p><p><a href="https://my-notes.dragas.net/2026/01/11/the-mechanically-perfect-lie/" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="my-notes.dragas.net/2026/01/11/the-mechanically-perfect-lie/"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">my-notes.dragas.net/2026/01/11</span><span class="invisible">/the-mechanically-perfect-lie/</span></a></p><p><a href="/tags/mynotes/" rel="tag">#MyNotes</a> <a href="/tags/blogging/" rel="tag">#Blogging</a> <a href="/tags/life/" rel="tag">#Life</a> <a href="/tags/reflections/" rel="tag">#Reflections</a> <a href="/tags/memories/" rel="tag">#Memories</a></p>

The Magpie<br><br>A bird’s noise is enough to bring back memories of months spent half-trapped because of a magpie.<br><br><a href="https://my-notes.dragas.net/2026/01/18/the-magpie/" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="my-notes.dragas.net/2026/01/18/the-magpie/"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">my-notes.dragas.net/2026/01/18</span><span class="invisible">/the-magpie/</span></a><br><br><a href="/tags/mynotes/" rel="tag">#MyNotes</a> <a href="/tags/memories/" rel="tag">#Memories</a> <a href="/tags/blogging/" rel="tag">#Blogging</a> <a href="/tags/birds/" rel="tag">#Birds</a> <a href="/tags/life/" rel="tag">#Life</a> <a href="/tags/reallife/" rel="tag">#RealLife</a><br>