Snippet: Hey, So, I Think I F*&#ing Hate the Internet ☍

G. Keenan Schneider for the aptly-titled No Octothorpe:

Being constantly bludgeoned by variety is destructive. It leaves no room for quiet. No space for contemplation. No opportunity for thought. When we’re constantly craving the next thing, we have no time to digest the previous thing. We have no ability to consider what something truly means to us. The pandemic provided a uniquely horrific opportunity for all of us to collectively share in that misery. We all fed into this in our own ways, mostly by feeding off of others in an effort to stave off the boredom, frustration, and despair a global catastrophe inflicted upon us. The Internet tries to be everything to everyone, and it takes its toll. What hope do we have if we can’t even sit quietly with our own thoughts?

I’ve been feeling a lot of the push-pull of consuming social media and deciding when to contribute and when to leave something in drafts or delete entirely. Getting off some services has helped, and limiting use of remaining have, as well. Lately, I’ve been finding that on days where it’s not the hottest it’s ever been, I’ve been catching up on reading articles, stories, and more (many times online), while sitting on my balcony. Rather than the distractions being a scrolling timeline in an app, it’s often things going on just a short way from where I’m sitting.