Apocalypse Light social network

The main idea is constant degradation. Every six months, all group chats are deleted. Once a year, all correspondence, including between friends, is deleted. The walls of group chats are fragile. If you've been chatting with someone for a long time, they might accidentally end up in the chats you're in. It's not by mistake or ill will; the walls and floorboards are rotten, and you can accidentally fall through them. The main idea is to prepare for the apocalypse. Save your friends' phone numbers and emails, remember what they were talking about, and ask them again, because everything will be deleted. Use vague and non-threatening language, so that even when it's inevitably seen by strangers, it doesn't seem completely unacceptable. Telega pretends to be reliable, but in essence, the social network it offers is a parody of that. But the point is different: such a social network should encourage people to engage in deep connections and share meaning. And don't let communities become ossified. A raging sea, where you could somehow grab hold of something to keep from being swept away. You might ask, why sit in such a strange net? For the sake of suffering? Yes. That's the point. It's a design social network, if you know what I mean. Basically, the idea arose from the fact that communities usually accumulate ossification and die. And yet, they consist of people with mountains of liquid assets that they don't systematically exchange, even though it wouldn't hurt their pockets (exchanging unique information is practically free, unless it's secret, for example). Essentially, it's a social network for people of the institution I'm trying to create. And it's also a social network of endless alliances. Like, three members of a chat group can create their own chat. The idea of ​​invisibility of messages is weak. We need to fragment social spaces into endless corridors. And not like forum threads, but rather that these are all individual people themselves, creating their own, closed, and biased experiences. There's also the question of attitude toward texts. In my world, text is a bodily secretion, like blood from a wound, but so are all others. And ultimately, some short texts consist of petrified spilled blood. Some of petrified trees or shells. And I value not text, but the living people who produce texts in real time. Again, not for the texts themselves, but for the physical and intellectual actions that exist around them.