I think my internet obsession has undoubtedly shaped me to be the person I want to be, even though my typical evening is me trying to focus on the cracks and pops of my vinyl playing as I passionately disconnect myself from the social infrastructure of the day. Who else would’ve spoon-fed me the gospel of David Bowie, the choke hold of Twitter, the freedom of the art of photography? The sweet, sweet internet is the only one who has done me the favour of providing me with my manifesto before I even penned my first essay.
I would love to learn what life was like before the internet. Though the word obsession may seem too harsh of a description, the internet dictates my life: my music, my writing, my social life, my interests. The internet has had a major part of my life since I was about nine or ten. In 2009, I first joined Twitter, and haven’t had a period without the regular usage of it ever since. It makes someone think. Over seven years? Can one website really be that enthralling? The answer is no. But my common response to all of this is “What else am I supposed to do with my time?”
Of course I believe the internet has been responsible for a multitude of my problems, as I’d dwell and complain about my problems on the internet rather than asking myself how I could change or fix things. The internet, on the contrary, has provided me with a social outlet for my depression and anxiety, a once quasi-comfort now a place where judgement ceases to exist… much like a diary. Outside of this, the internet has opened up a plethora of new interests for me. It has introduced me to ideas I would have never thought of coming across in a library, music I thought I would’ve never enjoyed just by looking at the covers. My internet addiction has swayed me towards my personal alternative culture, as well as the discovery of myself, my art and my better, inner self. This essay, of course, may seem as if I am using the word “addiction” lightly. According to the Oxford English Dictionary, the word addiction is described as “…condition of being addicted to a particular substance or activity.” Now of course I don’t have to be ripped from my laptop to leave for school or other social obligations, but the internet is probably my second most time-consuming activity. The first? Sleeping, another thing I have found solace in throughout the years.
“How can you spend so much time on that thing?” my grandma asks me, her eyes glued to our television.
“Because there’s so much to do,” I tell her.Indeed there is a lot to do, even if all of it is meaningless. And it is meaningless after all. After we, living, breathing creatures cease to live, our lives before disintegrate along with the memory of who we once were. Unless you’re already famous or the leader of a cult (which I guess could fall into the same category), then it is unsure if you’ll be remembered. I know, I know. Detrimental to the inflated egos of some, but it’s not my fault fragility exists (I’m sure their self-importance will shine through regardless. After all, aren’t they the ones on top of the world?). But why try to do things to achieve a certain level of fame? Why do things knowing it’ll all be forgotten in a certain future? Knowing that one day you could possibly be mentioned in every magazine, history book and newspaper? Is this the true meaning behind our everyday operations, especially endeavours that we consider to be “personal,” “important,” and “artistic”? Is our use of the internet to contribute to this? Partially. As an aspiring photographer and writer, I seek a lot of inspiration from the internet. It is my main source of inspiration out of the many people I’ve had the pleasure of knowing and my personal experiences on this rollercoaster known as life.
My perpetual nihilism, which of course is defining when it comes to my personality, has contributed to my internet addiction. Life is meaningless, meaning my “overuse” of the “internet” generally “has no meaning.” It is true, of course. I love that life has no meaning. It allows me as a person to move on to the next temporary challenge, the next temporary set of happy days, the next temporary cluster of togetherness. Temporary, temporary, temporary… I have come to terms with these set of rules for myself. Now, not everything is temporary, such as people (though to an extent they are, but only in a matter of flesh and blood), but allowing certain things to retain that label will allow them to be easier to move forward from.
Is the internet one of those temporary things? Of course not, you degenerate. The internet has consumed our already lifeless nation. It has influenced elections, thoughts and caused uproar in the form of viral content, hoaxes and debates. It has been rooted in our culture. Soon, there will no longer be able to be a generation that says “Well, I didn’t have the internet when I was your age!” Now we do. It is the embodiment of our generation. Technology continues to advance, hence more togetherness. If it’s already embedded into what we consider ours, invading our privacy and personal lives, why not get addicted now? It’s not going to leave your side anyways. Even if you are a hermit that lives in their minivan down in the local forest, it’ll find you one way or another. It always will.
