The internet is no longer fun. 

I remember a time when stumbling onto a random website felt like discovering a hidden door to another world—when everyone had those quirky little GeoCities or Angelfire pages, and forums and chatrooms were vibrant spaces pulsing with life. Back then, the internet felt more genuine. There were fewer curated news feeds, fewer ads, and fewer demands on our attention. It was more like an endless playground than the glitzy, corporate-driven ecosystem we see today. Yet, as the web evolved, convenience and monetization took center stage. Major platforms figured out how to profit from every click and every second of our attention, and somewhere along the way, that sense of digital wonder faded. We went from gleefully exploring niche personal websites to scrolling through algorithmically curated feeds on platforms like YouTube, Reddit, Instagram, and X. Everything was streamlined for “engagement,” which really means these companies want to keep us staring at screens, generating views and data they can monetize. Ads started popping up everywhere. Many of us, myself included, got used to it. We accepted the trade-off: platforms gave us easy access to content, and in return, they got our precious attention, collecting detailed information about our likes, dislikes, and everything in between. Before we knew it, our browsing habits were shaped by trends, influencer recommendations, and whatever the platform’s algorithms decided would keep us around the longest. Over time, it’s no wonder we found ourselves longing for a time when logging on felt fun and free, rather than obligatory or even exhausting.

Whenever I catch myself complaining about the internet not being fun anymore, though, I also have to admit that I’m part of the problem. It’s so easy to fall into a routine of hopping from one social media site to another. I often open the same apps, scroll through the same types of content, and rarely venture into the unknown corners of the web. Honestly, those spaces still exist. There are countless independent blogs, niche forums, and personal websites out there that reflect people’s real passions—whether it’s cooking experiments, obscure music scenes, anime fan theories, or local history deep-dives. They might not have the sleek design or massive followings of social platforms, but they’re full of that homegrown creativity the internet used to be known for. Sometimes, it just takes a little more effort to find them. And I’ve learned that if I limit my time on the big sites and start seeking out these smaller communities, I often rediscover that excitement I felt in the old days.

In the end, I believe the internet still has plenty of magic left—it’s just scattered and overshadowed by the constant noise of corporate-driven social media. If you’re feeling the same way, maybe the solution starts with making small changes. Spend a bit less time on your go-to platforms. Explore websites dedicated to your hobbies, or check out a random personal blog that isn’t driven by likes and clicks. Maybe subscribe to RSS feeds for independent writers you enjoy, or jump into a tiny forum populated by people who are as geeky about your interests as you are. Leave a comment to let them know their work matters; it might encourage them to keep creating, and it’ll remind you that real human connections can still exist in digital spaces. Yes, the old “wild west” of the internet may feel like a memory, but every time I veer off the beaten path, I’m reminded that the fun internet never disappeared entirely—it’s just waiting quietly for us to look beyond the monolithic platforms that dominate our online lives. So maybe it’s not that the internet isn’t fun anymore. It might just be that we have to look a little harder and be more intentional about where we spend our time.