No Thanks Cloud, I’ll Keep My Data Grounded

Once upon a time, “saving” meant I could keep my files with me, on my device, in my home, away from everyone else. My file was mine—stored safely on my computer, sitting right there next to Solitaire and the My Pictures folder.

But now? Saving isn’t saving. It’s “syncing.” Which sounds efficient—until you realise your precious holiday snaps are flying through invisible air to a “secure” server somewhere in a country you can’t pronounce, managed by a tech giant who once thought naming things after fruit was clever.

The modern device assumes I want everything stored “in the cloud.” I don’t. I don’t trust a floating metaphor with my life’s work. Why would I? Clouds are vapour. They disappear.

I miss the comforting whir of a hard drive, the satisfaction of dragging a file into a folder called “Definitely Backed Up This Time.” Now, every photo I take and every document I write is apparently beamed into digital heaven before I’ve even named it properly. My computer politely informs me that my file exists “somewhere,” though not necessarily here.

No cloud. I’ll fight you. I don’t want my things “somewhere.” I want them here. In my house. On my desk. Preferably backed up twice—one on my computer, one on a dusty external drive that sounds like a jet engine when it spins up.

Because when the Wi-Fi drops, I don’t want to pray to the cloud gods. I want to double-click my file, right where I left it. Safe. Local. Tangible. And offline—exactly how I like my peace of mind.

–Michael (Dark Fiction. Author of SEETHINGS (the first book), free for a limited time)