I am a person in the world: I see at least one person I love every day, I walk thousands of steps, and I take in my environment, photographing the beauty around me. But I've been having trouble knowing what's real lately. I know the problem. It's my skyrocketing screen time, which never really ends, only taking small pauses during the occasional moments of disconnection. I live in the most exciting city in the world, but most of the time I move through it, my ears are covered and filled with the words of a podcast or YouTube video; my mind is elsewhere.
The other day, I read a book about Spotify and learned how the recommendations seem tailored to you, even as the algorithm promotes songs that will cost the company the least. Today, a tweet told me that if you have 15 people post about something at the same time, a platform like TikTok will think it's important breaking news, even if it's basically advertising. Yesterday, I fell for an AI video of a hummingbird. It seemed to fit perfectly into my feed of bird videos and absurd comedy.
Consuming all of this content is corruptive. Social media constantly reminds me of the bitterness and stupidity of my fellow man, instructs me to judge any man reading as performative, or whatever dumb new way people have decided to make themselves feel better than another. At times, I notice myself conjuring judgments from strangers that I never would've thought about before, like someone would care that my shoes are too gorpy for my outfit, or that people would even know what that means.
I do know about some things that are real. My friend hosted an ice cream stroll on Friday. In a group of mostly strangers, I met new people, expressed anxiety about the state of the world, and saw beautiful vistas over the water. With one new friend, I gushed about my latest rabbit hole about the financial system, while he told me about his readings on how the West carved up the Middle East around WWI. While we both passionately spoke about what we learned, I couldn't stop thinking, *this is what it's all about.* There was an electric feeling to sharing knowledge, to the mutual interest in learning more about the world. This was undoubtedly real.
The next day, I went to see a horror movie in theaters for the first time in seven years. Going to a packed theater is always fun, but it's even better with horror, when the sounds of emotion fill the air. During *Weapons* (2025), there were plenty of laughs, groans when characters made bad decisions, shrieks at the gore. Even during the scariest moments of the film, it was impossible to forget that we weren't alone in the theater, that everyone else was experiencing the same things we were. Even as I anguished about what was coming and watched parts of the film between my fingers covering my eyes, I couldn't stop grinning at the excitement of it all, of the shared experience.
On Sunday, I walked over twenty-one thousand steps, around nine miles across Brooklyn and Manhattan, with people I hold dear. The day grew warmer and warmer, and it was undeniably present as I walked. My feet grew tired, my body grew tired, and the next day I had a cold, and everything that was real felt distant. I immersed myself back into the digital to pass the time, or to feel anything at all, but it all tasted so artificial in contrast to the weekend I had.
It's the same feeling I've felt a million times — every time I'm sick, or every time I decide to delete social media apps from my phone. When I feel better, I won't take my good health for granted, and I'll remember how poor my phone makes me feel. When I'm better, I'll live a different life, one where I remember where my feet and heart are at all times, won't get swept up again in a sea of filth. I'll toss aside my headphones in public, I'll gaze into the eyes of the people around me; this body is the only technology I'll need. When this congestion and fatigue leave me, everything will be perfect.
💧 Drops of the Week 💧
ALBUM - Through Lines by Martyn - some electronic goodness!
POEM - “Holy Sonnets X” by Jack Underwood - We like our dying lives.
I went camping with strangers over the weekend and shared similar sentiments. I couldn’t get over how collective joy exists and I was there to bear witness. Nature is a natural remedy to our unreliable judgments.
Though after all that, I go back on my phone to scroll endlessly. It starts with disgust like the artificiality you mention, but there I go again. Sorry to drop an aphorism, but it really is that damn phone.