I remember perfectly the day I discovered `<marquee>`. It felt like opening a door into another dimension. Suddenly I could make text scroll across the screen and genuinely thought it was incredible, like I'd unlocked some forbidden power of the internet. Then came the background with tiny moving stars, or that effect of clouds drifting behind a title written in Comic Sans, all hammered together in pure HTML, without a single decent line of CSS, just tables inside tables holding the whole layout together like cardboard scaffolding. Nobody knew what they were doing. That was the best part. You'd copy a chunk of code from some forum, paste it into Notepad, get an error, remove a random comma until it worked, and boom — you had a site. GeoCities with those neighborhood-style divisions, the visitor counter showing 47 visits of which 30 were yours, the construction gifs with the little guy digging, all of it. It was ugly, it was slow, sometimes it didn't even load in the wrong browser, but it was yours in a way almost nobody feels about a website anymore. Now I look back at it and honestly I'm not sure what I feel. Part of me genuinely misses that whole freedom, no frameworks, no build pipeline, nobody telling you the animated background is tanking your Lighthouse score. But another part looks back and thinks, god, how did anyone stare at that for more than ten seconds without getting dizzy. Maybe both things are true at once. Maybe shame and nostalgia always show up together when it comes to our own digital adolescence, and there's nothing wrong with admitting that.