160-Character Philosophies: Nostalgia For the Future
Yearning for What Hasn't Happened Yet w/ @SmokeAwayyy
As we have learned, Twitter bios are weird little things. Some people list their jobs. Others share a joke. But sometimes, you come across one that's more like a riddle.
Take Smoke Away's bio: "Nostalgia for the Future."
Four words. An oxymoron. A paradox. How can you feel nostalgia for something that hasn't happened yet?
Let's break it down.
Nostalgia. We all know that feeling. It's warm. Bittersweet. It's looking at old photos and feeling a pang in your chest. It's smelling your grandma's cookies and being five years old again for a split second.
Nostalgia is about the past. It's about memory. About things we've lost and can't get back.
But the future? The future hasn't happened. We can't remember it. We can't miss it. Can we?
Maybe we can.
Think about the last time you were excited about something. A vacation. A new job. A first date. Remember that feeling of anticipation? That mix of excitement and nervousness?
That's a kind of nostalgia for the future.
It's nostalgia for a moment that hasn't happened yet, but that you can see so clearly in your mind. You're nostalgic for the memory you're going to have.
But there's more to it than that.
"Nostalgia for the Future" isn't just about looking forward. It's about looking back at looking forward.
Remember when you were a kid? The future seemed amazing. Flying cars. Robot butlers. Colonies on Mars. The year 2000 might as well have been 3000.
Now, here we are. We have supercomputers in our pockets. We can video chat with people on the other side of the world. But somehow, it doesn't feel like "the future" we imagined.
That's nostalgia for the future. Missing the optimism we used to have about what's to come.
It's a very human thing. We're always caught between memory and anticipation. Between what was and what could be.
But there's a sadness to it too. A melancholy.
Because nostalgia for the future is also about dreams deferred. About the things we thought would happen by now, but haven't. The person we thought we'd be. The world we thought we'd live in.
It's looking at old sci-fi movies and feeling a pang for that shiny, chrome future that never arrived.
But here's the thing: nostalgia for the future isn't just about regret. It's not just about missing what never was.
It's also about hope.
Because if you can feel nostalgia for the future, it means you can still imagine a better one. You can still dream. You can still believe that something amazing is just around the corner.
And maybe that's the point.
Maybe "Nostalgia for the Future" is a call to action. A reminder to keep dreaming. To keep working towards that future we're nostalgic for.
Because here's the crazy thing: we're living in someone else's nostalgic future right now.
Imagine telling someone from 1923 about smartphones. Or the internet. Or that we went to the moon. Their minds would be blown.
We're living in a sci-fi novel. We just don't notice it most of the time.
So maybe the trick is to notice. To look around and see the wonder in what we have. And to keep imagining what could be next.
That's the power of a phrase like "Nostalgia for the Future." It makes you think. It makes you feel. It makes you look at the world a little differently.
It's a reminder that the future isn't just something that happens to us. It's something we create. With every choice. Every invention. Every dream.
So next time you're feeling nostalgic for the future, don't just sit there and pine for what could have been. Do something about it.
Write that book. Start that company. Work on that invention. Be the person that future you would be nostalgic for.
Because here's the secret: the future is always coming. And it's always up for grabs.
Four words. A whole philosophy of time and progress and hope. What's yours?
Next time you're on Twitter, take a closer look at those bios. You might be surprised at what you find. A time machine. A challenge. A mirror.
All in 160 characters or less.
And maybe, just maybe, you'll be inspired to create a future worth being nostalgic for.