There was a time when the internet felt alive.
Not perfect. Not polished. Just alive. 
I still remember those days — Geocities, Angelfire, and all those strange, beautiful websites people made for themselves.
Bright colors, moving gifs 
, music that started the second you opened the page.
It was messy, personal, full of feeling.
People didn’t make websites to impress anyone. 
They made them because they were excited — to share their thoughts, their favorite songs, their weird hobbies.
You could feel that excitement, even through a 480p screen.
It wasn’t about “design” or “readability” or “SEO.”
It was about you.
About making something that felt like home.
Now, when I browse the internet, it all looks the same.
Every site is clean, simple, and serious.
Beautiful, yes — but quiet in the wrong way.
It feels like walking through a city where every building looks identical.
That’s why I sometimes scroll through Neocities.
It reminds me of what we’ve lost —
and what’s somehow still surviving.
People there are still creating for the fun of it.
No brands. No strategies. Just… people.
Building, sharing, experimenting.
It feels comforting.
Like finding a small garden hidden in the middle of a concrete city.
I think I miss that — the joy of building something even if no one was watching.
The freedom to make a website that looked exactly how you felt that day.
Bright, broken, personal.
We made the internet too neat, too correct.
But maybe it was never supposed to be perfect.
Maybe it was supposed to be human.
And maybe that’s the biggest irony of all. I miss the slow, messy beauty of the old internet — the hand-coded pages, the clashing colors, the personal chaos. Yet here I am, building this on a clean, modern design template. Craving the past while still choosing the polish of now. Maybe that’s just who we’ve become — nostalgic for the noise of imperfection, but still reaching for what feels efficient.
