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Why can’t we move past 2014? | Dazed

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I was 14 years old in 2014. Embroiled in the discomfort of puberty and the general rage and confusion that comes with being a teenager, it didn’t feel like a year that was particularly important or life-changing to me. One of the most significant memories I have from that year was performing Lorde’s “Royals” at my school’s talent show with my best friends (we were robbed and came second place). The night before, I had pulled an all-nighter, as I would often do, copying the likes of Orion Carloto and Sam Fazz, some of the coolest girls on YouTube who would frequently discuss their self-induced insomnia as they’d stay up all night reinventing themselves on Tumblr. Most nights, I would do the same, reblogging pictures of clothes I’d like to wear, people I had crushes on and girls I wished I looked like. It felt like an invaluable use of my time, even though it left me exhausted the next day. While I look fondly at these memories, I don’t think about them often. Yet, over the last few year

I was 14 years old in 2014. Embroiled in the discomfort of puberty and the general rage and confusion that comes with being a teenager, it didn’t feel like a year that was particularly important or life-changing to me. One of the most significant memories I have from that year was performing Lorde’s “Royals” at my school’s talent show with my best friends (we were robbed and came second place). The night before, I had pulled an all-nighter, as I would often do, copying the likes of Orion Carloto and Sam Fazz, some of the coolest girls on YouTube who would frequently discuss their self-induced

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