Hi everyone. I don't really have a specific reason for writing this. Nothing important happened today, and this isn't an announcement or anything like that. I just found myself thinking about the past, and I felt like sharing these thoughts somewhere. I've been on Scratch for about three years now. When I joined, I never imagined how many people I would meet, how many conversations I would have, or how many memories I would make here. Over the years, I've interacted with hundreds of Scratchers. Some became friends, some were people I only talked to once or twice, and some were simply familiar names I would always see around the community. But when I look back now, I realize that so many of those people are gone. Many of them left quietly. No goodbye post. No announcement. One day they were active, commenting, sharing projects, appearing in notifications—and then, gradually, they disappeared. Their profiles are still there, frozen in time, like little snapshots of a moment that no longer exists. And for some reason, that thought fills me with a strange feeling that I can't fully explain. It's not exactly sadness. It's not regret either. It's something softer and deeper than that. A kind of melancholy mixed with gratitude. The realization that every chapter of life eventually ends, no matter how much we wish we could stay in it a little longer. I think what makes it emotional is that when we're living through a moment, we rarely realize that it's going to become a memory someday. When I first joined Scratch, I wasn't thinking about "the good old days." I was just another new user exploring the website, making projects, and hoping people would notice them. I remember being unbelievably excited when I reached 25 followers. Twenty-five! It felt huge to me. I remember checking my profile over and over again because I couldn't believe that so many people had chosen to follow me. Looking back now, 25 followers doesn't seem like much at all. But that isn't really the point. The point is that I miss the person I was back then. I miss the excitement of discovering everything for the first time. I miss the feeling that the future seemed so far away. I miss how slowly time seemed to move. Sometimes I genuinely wish I could be a little kid again—not because life was perfect, but because everything felt so much bigger. A single achievement could make my entire week. A new friendship felt like something magical. The future felt endless. Now, when I look back, those moments seem so distant. It's strange how memory works. There are days from years ago that I barely remember, yet there are tiny moments that stay with me forever: seeing a notification from someone I admired, finishing a project I worked hard on, having a conversation that seemed ordinary at the time but somehow became important in hindsight. Those moments felt so normal when they happened. Now they're memories. And that's the thing that gets me. Time never stops. It never slows down. It never waits for us to catch up. It keeps moving forward whether we're ready or not. Every conversation eventually becomes an old conversation. Every friend group eventually changes. Every community evolves. Every chapter of our lives quietly turns into something we can only look back on. Maybe that's why nostalgia feels so powerful. It's not just remembering the past—it's realizing that you can never truly go back to it. The people change. The community changes. We change. And yet somehow those memories stay with us. When I think about my time on Scratch, I don't just think about projects or follower counts. I think about the people. The comments. The jokes. The conversations. The excitement of logging in every day. The little moments that seemed insignificant at the time but became part of my journey. Maybe one day I'll leave Scratch too. Maybe years from now I'll randomly remember this website and all the people I met here. Maybe I'll visit my profile and see projects I haven't touched in ages. Maybe I'll remember writing this very message. And that thought makes me both happy and sad at the same time. Happy because I got to experience all of this. Sad because nothing lasts forever. But I suppose that's what makes these moments valuable in the first place. Anyway, there isn't really a conclusion to this post. I just wanted to share what was on my mind. If you've read this far, thank you. Whether we've talked once, a hundred times, or never at all, thank you for being part of this community and part of these memories. Time keeps moving forward, but some moments stay with us forever.
