Quote : art with Heart
fadedrider17 said:I’ve been chewing on how to even kick this thread off—it’s been sitting in the back of my mind for days now—and I finally landed on the word "acclimatize." It makes me sound like some sort of houseplant, I suppose, but if I stick with it, I can actually articulate the specific frustration eating at me.
I am certainly not the first person, nor will I be the last, to walk around with this nagging sensation that I was born in all the wrong decades. It’s become a bit of a cliché, really—you hear it constantly: "Man, I should have lived in the '80s," or some other variation of that sentiment.
My mind keeps drifting back to these snapshots from my childhood—watching neighbors who were much older than me, probably in their 20s or 30s, just hanging out casually in front of someone's house. Men and women, just talking about absolutely everything without a care in the world, spending time outdoors completely untouched by the intrusion of technology. I’m likely romanticizing it—after all, those people probably hadn't yet hit the heavy responsibilities of parenthood or high-stakes careers—but still, why is it impossible to socialize like that anymore? Is "being too busy" actually a valid excuse?
It feels like everyone is perpetually suspicious of one another lately; there's this sense that nobody truly needs anyone else anymore. This alienation has become so pervasive you could practically cut it with a knife. In the midst of all this, I find myself—living out in a rural area where my interests are diametrically opposed to the local youth—just lying there in front of the TV, blasting '80s hits or watching old movies, thinking, "What the hell am I even doing here?" Everything felt healthier then—human connections seemed more relaxed, more organic. I'm not saying every era was perfect—wars and chaos happen regardless—but I'm talking about the fabric of our social lives, the way we interact with those closest to us.
Look, I get it—every era has its own set of problems—but I want to know if anyone has an answer to this: how do we combat this modern plague of isolation? Is the solution to move to some Western country where the disconnection is even deeper? Is running away even a viable option?
Then there’s the secondary issue: going out and actually meeting people. Where are you supposed to meet someone meaningful in your 30s? Everywhere I go, it's just kids in bars or clubs—the exact same type of person I used to be.
Regarding this whole mess, I recently spoke with an adventurer who has traveled extensively, and when I asked for his advice, he gave me a rather blunt, interesting response: "Listen, people are people everywhere." Though, he did single out Georgia as a place where he experienced the most genuine warmth from strangers, even in some remote little village.
Anyway, I’ve rambled quite a bit, and I’m still not entirely sure if I’ve captured everything I intended to say. What’s your take? How do we maintain a healthy balance between being content in our own company and actually coexisting with the rest of society?
You eventually get used to it. Looking back, the life I have now in my mid-20s would have been totally unimaginable to me when I was just a kid in high school. Back then, I was incredibly social—always had a million different things going on and a group of friends ready for every single activity.
Back in my school days, I used to hang out with a few kids from other grades during recess, or sometimes a small group of us from different classes would all gather together.
I used to take dance classes, which was a great way to stay active and build a solid circle of friends to hang out and work out with.
I used to play video games all the time, and I had a huge group of online friends and a solid crew I’d hang out with regularly.
The group that was mostly just about going out.
The old school crew getting together for coffee after class, studying, and all that.
Things have always been easy for me to sort out. I’m pretty straightforward by nature, and I just don't have the patience for any nonsense or lame excuses.
I can't remember the last time I felt truly lonely or like I didn't have someone by my side. It makes such a difference—on my good days, I have someone to share the joy with, and on my bad days, there's always a shoulder to lean on.
I’ve already started feeling the shift since starting college and moving to Washington, D.C. Even though I'm an open person and genuinely interested in getting to know people, I haven't quite clicked with my immediate group, and I haven't found that specific circle where I can truly be myself. Looking back, maybe it's just the vibe of the city—I seem to get along much better with the students who moved here from smaller towns, though they're definitely in the minority.
At my jobs, the teams have always been established groups that already know each other, so I often get that feeling like I’m not fully accepted for who I am.
I've been involved in quite a few volunteer projects myself, and it’s always the same story. I just don't click with large groups; it usually boils down to surface-level small talk while we're working together. Once the job is done, nobody seems to have the time or the interest to hang out anymore—everyone already has their own established circles and friend groups.
I moved to a smaller town in Germany recently. It’s actually full of expats, so there are plenty of people who feel exactly like I do—everyone is looking for their tribe, but nobody seems willing to fully commit to an individual or a group.
I only have one close friend I grab coffee with to catch up. I haven't really managed to build any long-term friendships from my classes or my job. One group was actually really nice, but they weren't exactly the type to hang out or do things together, so I wouldn't even call it a true friendship. At my last school, people were just so antisocial and disinterested. Only one girl there was truly great; we had such a similar vibe and she was so easy to talk to. It’s ironic because my German isn't the best, yet we understood each other perfectly. Ultimately, though, she has her family and comes from a completely different background, so keeping in touch became difficult.
I had this group that was such a blast at first, but it only lasted a few months before everyone just stopped showing up. We all met spontaneously through a Facebook group; there are quite a few community groups out there for expats.
I’ve come to realize that a lot of these women are just struggling in their own way. It seems like many are overly focused on feminism, or they're feeling unfulfilled in their 30s—lacking family or kids, and either obsessing over their careers or feeling totally lost about who they actually are. They tend to drift from one thing to the next, moving between guys and social circles without ever really settling down. There's always this constant search for something better or more "ideal," as if no one is ever quite good enough. Even friendships feel a bit superficial; it often looks like they’re just looking for the right group to pose with for social media, trying to look social just to appeal to men.
It was a real eye-opener meeting this woman. She looks incredible—easily pushing 40, but you’d swear she was fifteen years younger. She’s got a high-powered career, a massive place, lives solo, no kids, and has never been married, yet she seems profoundly unhappy and depressed. She moved to Canada once, only to end up back in Germany. Even after a year there, she hasn't made an effort to learn a single word of German, then wonders why she can't fit in at work. She just doesn't stay anywhere for long; she refuses to commit to a place or a person. She's cycled through countless relationships and different countries.
I'm done trying to hang out with her. Last time, she texted me two hours late saying she completely forgot we had plans.
Then there was another girl from that group who invited me to a party, only to "forget" to mention she was actually going to a different one with a different crowd. She wouldn't have said a word unless I asked where we were meeting the day before.
Honestly, none of them were really sincere. They all had these ridiculous excuses or just showed zero interest in being a good friend. Between people being glued to their phones or someone deciding to suddenly look for friends right after a breakup... man, I could go on all day.
Over time, I’ve just started focusing on my own interests. I spend an incredible amount of time by myself now—listening to podcasts, reading, gaming, learning how to code, hitting the gym, doing puzzles, and drawing.
If things had been different, I probably would have been doing all this stuff with a group of friends back when I was sixteen.
Money is tight right now, but once I'm back on my feet, I definitely want to sign up for dance classes or join a club. I’m also looking into starting another course or heading back to school—who knows, maybe I'll have better luck this time. It's just hard to justify spending money on gas and tickets when everything is so expensive, especially if it just ends with hanging out with the kind of people I described earlier.
I don't think this whole culture of social consumerism is going to change; if anything, it'll get worse. People are becoming more isolated and retreating into themselves. That's exactly what I've started doing, even though I used to be a total extrovert with tons of different friend groups.