Retrospective Lily

Prior to social media, we were forced by time and space to let go of people – but we can hold on to them indefinitely now. It’s a little weird and surreal.

Beforehand, experiences were more transient, unable to be captured and anchored to reality. People I met in school, or at a party once, or at a former workplace would’ve been insignificant fixtures of my past – likely forgotten in due time. Yes, people exchanged phone numbers, but it’s different now…

Now, I scroll through Instagram and come across photos of people I haven’t see in 15 years’ kids. I casually think to myself, Aww, isn’t Karla’s new baby girl precious? But it’s inexplicable why I care what Karla’s up to when I only know her as an incomplete imprint in my memory, a one-dimensional perception of who she was in a former life, And I will likely never see her again.

It’s verging on dystopian, really.

Memories are nailed to the coffin of a finite lifetime – reminding us of years come and gone, death ever impending – by photo albums on social media. Yes, print photos have existed a long time, but it was never so easy as in the digital age to be transported to different events or eras. Within a few clicks, I can reminisce on my cousin’s fairytale wedding in 2015 or the whole span of my early 20’s – look how young and hot I was!

I don’t know if it’s healthy to live in the past, to cling to things we would’ve had to let go without these platforms keeping everyone and everything artificially connected.

I suppose it’s most toxic when it keeps people from laying to rest old romantic partners, friendships or time periods.

But maybe it’s fine that I’m cheering Karla on from the sidelines, even if she is essentially an NPC in my self-revolved world. Maybe the fact we care about the Karlas of our past, at least on some shallow level, for no real, rational reason, is a testament to the compassion and empathy of humans – even if we are mostly self-deluded.