created, $=dv.current().file.ctime & modified, =this.modified tags:comments related: Comments

I saw this comment under a youtube video for a song. You’ll see this type often there, someone musing about what a song means to them. I’ll collect them here.

What was interesting about this one was the progression. When I arrived at the scene the story was done. The love was had and lost, and had again.

Now we see comments on youtube that seem ancient, like 15+ years. You imagine that years on now, arriving at a song a various point in your life. Some songs I’ll visit hundreds of times, probably even thousands. People will find posts from years ago that they posted that they don’t even recall, either buried or now elevated in status.

Fear of old content

There’s such a fear with engaging with older posts on someone’s social media profile. Basically after a week, any type of engagement with it, unless already close - appears suspect and snooping. Yet they leave it up, and why? Presumably to show it.

There’s an immense tension to scrolling deep on a profile with some people that isn’t really experienced elsewhere on social media.

This is such a shame societally. We should fully engage with what someone presents. You friend someone for the first time, and want to get to know them so you go down their profile and find a beautiful picture they took and tell them you like it, like you like them.

Then you hear of these absolute horror stories that result from this social conditioning, where when snooping on a crush you accidentally like their mother’s innocuous comment from 2019 or something. But re-frame this love. If you were a brave soul this should be the very first thing done on a profile of a crush, seek out all familial posts and give those a proud “like”.

Encountering your past self

Speaking of strata, you’ll often find fragments of your past self online that surprise you. You’ll watch a video, enjoy it and suddenly realize that it was already liked by you, maybe a year or two ago. Ten, soon to be twenty years on you might be so changed. It might as well be new.