The Internet Used to Have Rooms

Feeds are weather. Rooms had doors. I miss knowing which room I was in, and who might still be sitting on the floor.

A room implied you could leave your coat on a chair. A feed implies you are the weather now — passing through, briefly colored, immediately replaced. I do not want to be weather.

The old internet was badly designed and occasionally cruel and full of people who had not yet learned to perform themselves at scale. It also had corners. You could be mid-thought in a corner and the corner would wait.

I am not arguing for nostalgia as a product strategy. I am arguing for doors. For the feeling that a page is a place and not a slot in an infinite machine.

If you are reading this, you are in a room I made. It is small. The chairs do not match. Stay as long as you like.