Look, I own a lot of domain names. Waaaay too many. Each new project idea starts with a name, and that name is in part driven by domain availability. Don’t complain to me, I don’t make the rules.
These projects may (ok, will likely) never see the publish button. They’re intentions—good, serious intentions, mind you, but intentions nonetheless. So, at some distant point, I will likely let those domain names expire, re-opening them for someone else to rent and never quite use, too.
Except for one. That’s my permadomain. My permanent online identity. It’s a permalink that I’ll never let expire. I will own this thing for the rest of my life. It’s the domain that I’ve written into my will.
Unlike a project domain, which was also sentenced to death the very moment it was born, my permadomain does not exist to expire—at least not during my lifetime.
That’s why it’s based on something that is unlikely to change—my primary identity. It’s not a play on words that I thought sounded cool during that one phase of my life that I now ask my friends to overlook. It’s not something associated with a company, or product, or anything else I might eventually sell off to someone else. You can take nearly everything from me, but you’ll never take my permadomain. It’s my home on the web, even if it remains but an otherwise blank page with links to all the other places I’m currently at.
But it’s out there, always. It lives on—no matter what I’m working on at the moment.
You can always find me at my permadomain.
My permadomain is rscottjones.com. You should have one, too.