from the pen of icarus blake

Bloganuary writing prompt

In what ways do you communicate online?

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   |∵∴∵∴∵∴∴|　　 ∩＿＿＿∩
　　　|∵∴∵∴∵∴∴|　　 | ノ   ヽ /⌒ )
　　　|∵∴∵∴∵∴∴|　 /⌒) ●　  ● | .|
　　　|∵∴∵∴∵∴∴|　/　/　 ( ● )ミ  / 　
　　　|∵∴∵∴∵∴∴|.（　ヽ　 |∪|  ／
　　　|∵∴∵∴∵∴∴|　＼　  ヽノ　/
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　　　|∵∴∵∴∵∴∴∵∴∴ 　 　   /
　　　|∵∴∵∴∵∴∴∵∴∴　　 ／
　　　|∵∴∵∴∵∴∴ ∵∴∴  ／
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I’ve been on the internet for a long time, a member of that weird in-between generation that grew up just as the old internet started to die, when forums and niche internet communities were replaced by the inexorable creeping illness of Facebook and Twitter.  Between the faint memories of Warrior Cats RP forums and hours on Quizilla, something strange happened to the internet without me even realizing.

Vocabulary, for one.  I’m still fluent in old Deviantart X3 you-eated-my-cookie original-character-DO-NOT-STEAL speak.  I cringe when I think of how I wrote, how I mimicked those strange twists and turns of language so easily.  My language still bears the marks of a childhood online.  I’m guilty of a :3 from time to time, and I’m an avid appreciator of ACII art.  

Emojis changed the landscape of communication.  As did apps like Discord — no longer did you have a searchable archive (don’t give me that “Discord has a search function!” bullshit, you know as well as I do that it does not work properly).  You get a stream of posts, restricted in character and scope, on a shiny background user interface that takes no time to learn the ins and outs of.  I miss the days of learning curves in website design, in finding new things about sites you’ve been haunting for years.  It made them into living things — they had more to show you, if only you had the patience to investigate them properly.

It lacked outrage, lacked the fatigue, lacked the constant stream of global issues you must care about.  You could spend your time on a forum, and that day the biggest problem in your world are the medical bills of a forum moderator for their appendectomy.  I never had any money, so I could only send well-wishes, but the small community made you feel like those words mattered in the grand scheme of things.  The small neighborhood of your internet meant that you could do something about the things you care about, that you were talking to another person somewhere in the world who would also care about your problems as if they were their own.

It felt small.  I miss that.