The Judgment of Moments

Li Ming posted a moment, the content of which was very simple: The weather is really nice today.

He chose the "private for 24 hours then public" mode. This is a new feature recently launched by Moments, which is said to give you enough time to think about whether this moment is worth making public. Li Ming thought it was quite good, at least it wouldn't be like before, where he would want to delete it a few minutes after posting.

24 hours later, Li Ming's moment was automatically made public.

However, he found that things were a bit off. The comment section was not peaceful, but rather full of doubts and accusations.

"The weather is clearly overcast today, Li Ming, are your eyes okay?"

"What's so nice? Are you implying something? Or are you just pretending again?"

"Hehe, posing, why not just say you're in a bad mood today."

"Another poser on Moments, unfollowed!"

Li Ming panicked, what the hell was going on? He was just saying something casually, how did he become the target of everyone's attacks?

He carefully looked at the posting time, which clearly showed "24 hours ago."

"Did I travel through time?" Li Ming muttered to himself. He quickly checked the weather forecast. 24 hours ago, it was indeed a sunny day. And now, it was indeed cloudy.

He wanted to explain, but the comment section had already been flooded with negative comments. Li Ming wanted to delete this moment, but found that he couldn't. This moment seemed to be nailed to a pillar of shame, and could never be erased.

He finally understood that the true meaning of "private for 24 hours then public" was not to make you think, but to be judged by the afterimage of history.

In the face of "history," personal feelings are insignificant. It will only operate according to the established rules, and will not care about your current true feelings.

Li Ming began to feel scared. This little Moments was like a miniature society, full of incomprehensible rules, and ubiquitous judgment.

He wanted to escape this Moments, but found himself trapped inside, like a canary in a cage, just watching the comments on his phone screen, silently bearing the unwarranted accusations.

He also recalled another news story he had seen before: a company required its employees to make their Moments "private for 24 hours then public," with the reason being "to prevent employees from publishing inappropriate remarks."

He suddenly felt that maybe we are all living in a huge "private for 24 hours then public" loop. Everything we publish will be made public at some point and be judged.

And perhaps, all we can do is silently wait for the judgment to come.