u/Dry_School_9236

ببتعاملوا ازاي مع يقين انكم هتعيشوا و تموتوا لوحدكم مدى الحياة و أن الوحدة مصيركم علي الرغم أن غيركم حظة احسن و الحياه ادتلة و خدت منكم عشان انتوا طيبين و نضاف بزيادة

In the 1990s, at the height of the boy band craze in the US and the UK, there was a group called East 17. They released a soft and melancholic song that was very different from their usual style, which often featured rap.

The song was “Stay Another Day.” When you listen to it, you might think it’s a sad love song about heartbreak or saying goodbye.

But in reality, one of the band members wrote it about his brother, who had passed away. He had a difficult life and eventually took his own life. After that, he wrote this beautiful song about him.

The song went on to become a huge hit during Christmas 1994 and was a genuine smash.

What the hell happened to the world from 2020 until now?

Sometimes it genuinely feels like we stepped into a time capsule—or crossed into another reality entirely. A world that looks familiar on the surface, but somehow feels completely different from the one we knew before.

Personally, I felt something change between December 31, 2019 and January 1, 2020. I can't explain it. Maybe it's just nostalgia talking, maybe it's the illusion of hindsight. But something felt different.

Then COVID came.

And we saw what followed.

Lockdowns. Isolation. Death. Fear. Uncertainty.

And somehow, we never really went back to normal.

Since then, life has felt strangely empty. Sad. Cold. Meaningless. As if something fundamental was taken away from the world and never returned.

Every day feels like a carbon copy of the day before it.

Wake up. Scroll. Consume. Sleep. Repeat.

The days disappear. The months disappear. The years disappear.

And they're disappearing faster than ever.

Maybe that's the one advantage of all this misery: at least time is moving quickly.

But that's also the terrifying part.

Days are passing. Our lives are passing. And years that will never come back are quietly disappearing behind us.

The generations growing up now feel different too. More disconnected. Less sentimental. Less capable of expressing what they feel.

Children are growing up surrounded by screens, algorithms, notifications, endless content and constant stimulation.

They have access to the entire world at their fingertips, yet somehow seem more disconnected from each other than ever.

And social media?

It used to be a place where people connected.

Now it feels like a machine designed to make us hate our own lives.

Everyone is comparing themselves to everyone else. Someone is richer. Someone is prettier. Someone is happier. Someone is more successful. Someone is travelling somewhere you've never been. Someone is living the life you wish you had.

And you're sitting there, watching it all through a screen, wondering why your own life doesn't look like that.

Even nostalgia has become a form of escape.

We keep looking backward because the present doesn't feel worth looking at.

We romanticize the 80s, the 90s, the 2000s, the 2010s. Old movies. Old music. Old photographs. Old television shows. Old friendships. Old versions of ourselves.

Not necessarily because those times were perfect.

But because they were ours.

There was something about the world back then that felt more alive. More human.

Maybe it was youth. Maybe it was innocence. Maybe it was simply the fact that we hadn't yet realized how quickly everything disappears.

And that's the cruelest part.

The life we're nostalgic for wasn't even special while we were living it.

We didn't know we were living through the good old days.

We thought they would last forever.

They didn't.

And now we watch the years disappear in real time.

2020 feels like yesterday.

And somehow, it's already 2026.

Six years.

Six freaking years.

Where did they go?

Sometimes I look at children today and I genuinely feel sorry for them.

Not because their lives are necessarily worse than ours.

But because they're growing up in a world that feels increasingly artificial, increasingly overstimulating, increasingly lonely, and increasingly disconnected from what it means to simply be human.

Maybe they'll adapt.

Maybe this will become normal to them.

Maybe they'll look back at 2026 someday with the same nostalgia we have for the past.

And maybe that's the saddest thought of all.

Because somewhere out there, a child is living through a completely ordinary day right now—playing a game, watching a cartoon, listening to a song, laughing with a friend.

And they have no idea that one day, years from now, they'll desperately wish they could come back to this exact moment.

Just like we do.

Maybe that's what life really is.

Watching everything disappear while we're still living it.

And perhaps the only comfort left is this:

Thank God we don't live forever.

Love this hidden gem