Social Media Residue

When I have nothing in my hands, I stare at the walls wondering what happened to the lives of those I used to obsess over. Waking up without scanning over their thoughts and memories feels “blank”. Empty. Yesterday I woke up and felt like I was 9 with my legs dangling over the edge of the bed. I sat there for five minutes waiting, not for my mom to call me through the smell of maple syrup coated sausages on a primed pan or my siblings demand to join them in a game of Mario Kart. I was waiting for a command. Something to do for my weekend off of everything and that’s when I remembered I have a child.

I’ve only drastically reduced my social media scrolling for like three days, but the habits still linger like smoke residue. I’m going to conclude through a decade of conditioning and hours upon hours of scrolling, I have a long way to go before my brain fully resets back to what I once was before knowledgeable psychologist and tech engineers formed a lovely bond.

Social residue is constantly reaching for my phone when I’m idle instead of picking up a pen and paper to write or sketch. It’s still wondering what happened to those people going through it on social media because my brain demands a conclusion rather than letting fickle matters fade with the rest of my passing thoughts.

As a writer and artist, social residue is also a nagging thought as I’m working on a sketch “will this look good enough to post” when its just a fucking sketch. Not everything needs to be posted.

It’s lonely and boring being off the most popular social media app and not knowing current trends and eco-political news makes me a bit nervous. I feel like I’m choosing ignorance over being informed. There’s other places I can stay up-to-date on, but with the rise of AI and tensions between left and right, I don’t know what to believe anymore (if its written by machine or human).

Social residue is still there, though little bits of it. Days will continue. More voices not of my own will dissipate from my mind and then I’ll be left with my own thoughts, loud and clear for me to confront. 10 years of avoiding the depths of my subconscious outside of dreaming.

I don’t think its bad just weirdly bound by scriptures.

I’m really happy to be back on a keyboard.