I remember it like it was yesterday. After dinner, we used to take a chair, sit in front of the house, and talk to the neighbors. Kids ran barefoot in the street, playing hide-and-seek, tag, or making up games that didn’t need Wi-Fi. It was a time when people looked each other in the eyes, laughed together, and shared their problems in simple conversations. Today, I look around and ask myself: what happened to all that?
I lived through the beginning of the internet, and let me tell you, it was magical. ICQ, MSN, Orkut, chat rooms… we were kind of naïve, but it was real. Meeting someone online was an adventure. Joining an Orkut community like “I Love Sleeping Late” made you feel part of something bigger. A simple “Hi, wanna chat?” on MSN had more warmth than many conversations I see today on WhatsApp.
But time passed. Technology advanced. And what seemed like the solution to bring us closer ended up disconnecting us for real.
Back then, the internet was a place for discoveries. You spent hours downloading one song on eMule, but when it finally played, it was special. People were curious, authentic, even innocent. Orkut had something today’s social networks don’t: humanity. We wrote testimonials with care, left comments on photos, and really engaged.
And when we got tired of the screen? We just turned off the computer and went outside to live. The internet was just a complement, not a replacement for real life.
Today, I feel like we’re more connected than ever, but paradoxically more alone. It’s like we’re always together, but never really present. Social media, which promised to bring us closer, has become a showcase for a fake life. The feed feels like a secret competition, conversations are shallow, and algorithms decide what we see and who we connect with.
Remember when we used to sit outside and chat with the neighbors? Yeah, now no one does that anymore. People stay locked in their own digital worlds, each one in their little bubble, entertained by shiny screens that offer everything—except real human warmth.
Kids also lost something precious. When I was a kid, the street was our playground. We made up games, fought and made up again, learned to share, to live together. Today, they’re locked in their rooms with tablets and video games, living adventures in pixels and losing the joy of running free in the neighborhood.
I don’t think technology is the villain here. It brought amazing things: information at our fingertips, instant connection with people far away, and solutions we never imagined before. The problem isn’t the tool—it’s how we use it. Instead of becoming more human with all this technology, we’ve grown more distant.
Fear of going outside, busy daily routines, and even this obsession with being “always productive” made things worse. Life feels tighter now, full of obligations. The time we used to spend sitting outside was replaced with checking emails or answering work messages after hours.
I keep asking myself: is it possible to bring some of that old world back? I don’t know if we can go back in time, but maybe we can learn something from it. Maybe it’s time to disconnect a little. Put the phone away when we’re with friends, turn off the computer, and just live.
It might sound cheesy, but why not try? Grab a chair and sit outside again, invite a friend to talk without scheduling it days in advance, or turn off notifications and let life happen. Who knows? Maybe we’ll discover that behind all this technology, what really matters is still the same: true connection, between people.
Maybe I’m being too nostalgic. Maybe it’s just age catching up with me. But honestly, I miss the days when we sat outside and listened to the neighbors’ stories. Because in the end, this so-called evolution that promised us so much has forgotten the most basic thing: what truly makes life worth it are the people, not the gadgets we carry in our pockets.