i have been posting to my instagram story daily since the pandemic hit in 2020. i posted 1, 807 times. i found myself intersecting with a bunch of random people who had random ideas about me because i was posting and i wasn’t posting with context, the way a diary says “mom said this” rather than “my mom who has been unable to retire due to x.” i thought maybe this was a terrible mistake. a sign of poor boundaries, an unhealthy relationship style, and whatever other modern personality problems. i decided to print out everything i posted to my instagram story in full to look for clues. initially i was planning on re-scanning each printed page and then recreating a four year long instagram story. once i had the archive printed and felt the weight in my hand, i realized this was a single unit and not thousands of individual items. i weighed the archive. the archive is four apples tall. i thought about running it over with my car, freezing it, baking it. destroying it, tho, doesn’t make any sense. i’m not mad at it. i ultimately decided to bury it. i have planted seeds over top or the archive which are still in their growth process. i will update as there are updates to share.