We live in a world driven by the Internet, and the social connections we choose to paint in our lives as human beings are all carried out on the canvas of innumerable servers. ‘Lore’, an old-timey word, once reserved for the tales of kings, queens, and wizards, has taken over our lives and now it’s for you, me, and that random person we see around the campus of our college, follow on all socials, but have never interacted with. “We are all just lore now” isn’t an attempt at being quirky and different, but a real reflection of how our lives seem to be driven by narrative, and every day is another episode of a long drawn show no one is going to pay for and stream. Today, the culture that has been formed on the backbone of the Internet as a tool for connection, is taking shape in its own unique way, where everyone is a living myth writing their own stories.
As said, lore is an old fashioned word reclaimed by the growing online population. Where traditionally it could have referred to myths brewing among a group of people, today it refers to a backstory, and the context behind someone’s existence, helping us understand what makes them tick. Online usage could refer to a layered, aestheticised, and often narrativized perception that we as individuals form of one another. In the modern zeitgeist, if someone is referred to as having a “lore,” it means they have a certain history that they carry with them, a certain vibe that they bring to the room, and a certain narrative— created by us using our narrativizing lenses— that they fit into.
“Your digital backstory is made up of everything that you post, comment on, and like, and it is made easier because the internet remembers everything.”
Any and everything could contribute to your lore, ranging from the bad breakup you had, to the fact that most of your outfits consist of a specific colour clothing. Your digital backstory is made up of everything that you post, comment on, and like, and it is made easier because the internet remembers everything. In old posts, screenshots, archives, wayback machines, you live on, which also contributes to modern myth-making and self-mythologising.
We have become characters. We don’t just post for the sake of it, but to update our following about the recent happenings in our lives; we don’t just live for the sake of it, but to fit ourselves into that predestined narrative that we want others to perceive us in. In the 21st century the art of simply existing is simply obsolete. We now label different phases of our lives as different ‘eras’ that we have lived through; if we’re recuperating after a tough time – healing era, if we’re around the onset of a new crush (now also seen as ‘love interests’) it’s our delulu era, and many more. Terms like ‘main character’, ‘side quests’, ‘NPCs’, ‘love interests’, have taken over and have genuine tangible meaning in our ‘headcanons’.
This almost romantic quality of focus, and exaggeration also seems to be on a rise, and while we’re at it, nostalgia also is seeing a boom. We repost old stories and photos with sepia filters because the rising sense of nostalgia genuinely triggers an emotional response in us. The longing for good old times, and reminiscing about things that used to be, the ‘eras’ you have lived through in the past like flashbacks in a film take over our narratives once in a while as identity turns into serialised content.
Identities seem crafted, and the humans around us in real time, seem more like TV characters, than real people, where we consume them like media and gossip about them just like we would do about some sitcom characters. Fandom language has taken its place in actual ‘IRL’ conversations. We talk and in many ways intrude into things that people might deem deeply personal just because the sense of what is real and tangible and what is not is blurred. This also gives way to parasocial relationships; usually one sided emotional attachments where someone feels deeply connected to a public figure, but with our lives becoming progressively public, these figures of attachment can easily be someone you constantly run into in a setting like, school, college, or work, but who has no idea who you are.
We construct our own identities on social media, often meticulously, to reflect only the parts of us that we want the world to see. Time is consciously spent analysing ourselves and the versions of us we put out, which is why we spend time curating our Pinterest boards, Instagram grids, Letterbox, and our likes and comments on different posts, to ensure that we put our best foot forward. With overpopulation, a need to fit into niches also arises, which is why, consciously or subconsciously, people choose different aesthetics, hobbies, and habits to fall into so that they have an appeal that no one else can match and compete with. Somewhere along this route of finding and falling into narratives, we might forget to be ourselves, but lore also always comes with emotional justification so that is not a problem?
Of being lore, is to face a double edged sword. There’s a strange pressure to always find something interesting— content, to keep people around you interested in you and your vibe. ‘Doing it for the plot’ quite literally arises from the fact that there’s a need to have an interesting backstory to your being.
Having your story out in the open means that it would be subject to differentiating opinions and interpretations. Your story will be misread, and misinterpreted, and there is nothing you could do about it because you chose to partake in the narrative of yourself on your prerogative. This leads to a rise in negativity, and maybe parasocial rumours that aren’t necessarily favourable. Being lore is about being known, there are no guarantees about being understood.
We’re all just lore now. Not because of delusion (not solely), but because the Internet culture of today wants and promotes narratives, and performance. We have become protagonists in our own sagas, and our perceptions are crafted, curated, and analysed, not just by others, but ourselves too, and these identities we carve, aren’t only for the ones around us, but also the algorithm that we live our lives in— for archives and aesthetics.
The question has shifted. From “Who are you?” to “What’s your lore?”
And more importantly, who’s watching it unfold.
Written by
Subraanshu Singh
Subraanshu is a dedicated literature student with a deep appreciation for both the written word and the world of music. Passionate about classical traditions and forward-thinking ideas, he explores the intersection of storytelling, sound, and culture. Subraanshu believes in the enduring power of art to inspire, connect, and transform.
LITERATI SXCJ 