Thread by @AguaApostle

TikTok is stealing your memories before they happen.

Let me explain. 🧵

We’re not just watching life anymore—we’re previewing it.

TikTok and the like have turned once-in-a-lifetime moments into fast food. A woman used to get proposed to once—maybe twice—in her life.

Now she’s seen hundreds.
So when it finally happens?

She’s emotionally numb.
She’s been there already—on her screen.

The moment gets flattened.

Not because it isn’t meaningful,
but because it’s no longer novel.

And novelty is essential to how humans experience meaning. When everything feels like a rerun, your soul tunes out.

We’re meant to live toward moments.
To feel the build-up. The mystery.
The edge of the unknown.

But now?

Before you even get there, you’ve watched ten versions play out. You know the soundtrack. The angles. The reactions.

By the time it’s your turn, it feels rehearsed.

This kind of voyeurism doesn’t just change how we engage—it changes what we expect.

We start chasing experiences that look good on camera
instead of ones that feel good in the body.

Moments curated for the algorithm, not the soul.

And over time, this rewires you.
Not just your habits—but your thresholds for presence, joy, and effort.

Why go train when you can watch someone else crush a workout from the couch and feel like you kind of did it?

You didn’t. And your body knows it.

This is why so many people feel stuck.

They’re “engaged” all day—scrolling, reacting, stimulated—but nothing is anchored in the body.

No true experience. No earned effort.
Just phantom progress and emotional debt.

It’s spiritual heroin.

Powerful, instant, overwhelming—and it leaves you emptier each time.

Once you’ve felt those artificial highs, actual life starts to feel flat in comparison.

Your threshold for joy gets corrupted.

There’s no ceremony anymore. No sacredness.

You don’t become something just by watching it.

You don’t become a mother by scrolling pregnancy announcements. You don’t become a man by watching rite-of-passage content.

You become by living through it.
Through the blood, time, effort, and emotion.

On Ep. 266 of @theDarkHorsePod, @BretWeinstein explained why he didn’t want his kids learning what elephants were too early.

Because elephants are wonders.

Giant. Soulful. Alien.

A child who meets one for the first time—in real life—should be awestruck.

But today, they see a thousand elephants before they can talk.

🔗

Imagine living in early America when the first elephant was brought over.

You’ve never even imagined such a creature.
Word spreads. The town gathers.
Then this beast walks out of the ship.

That moment would change you.
Wonder—real wonder—would hit you like lightning.

Today, that moment is impossible.

Your child sees a thousand elephants before they can talk. Animated. Cartooned. Memed. Merchandised.

The elephant becomes… background noise.

We’ve robbed them of the miracle.

We’re burning through awe too fast.

And once you lose your capacity for awe, you lose something foundational to the human experience.

I’m not anti-creator.

I’ve learned plenty from people on here—
how to train, cook, live better.

But there’s a difference between inspiration and replacement. Between education and sedation.

Not every sacred thing was meant to be broadcast.

Guard your firsts.
Guard your effort.
Guard your wonder.

Because if your eyes are always on someone else’s story—you’ll never get to write your own.

Some things to try:

• Go experience something you’ve never seen online
• Resist the urge to film sacred moments—be in them
• Move your body before you scroll
• Let a mystery stay mysterious a little longer

Not everything needs a preview.