Distracted

Blossom. Another ten seconds of my life wasted watching the perfect life of another human being, my attention span already used up. And somehow those 10 seconds turn into minutes, into hours of scrolling. I close the app and can’t even remember what I was watching, the faces I saw for split seconds blend into each other, the information I swear I’d remember is already vanishing. My brain doesn’t feel like it belongs to me anymore, it belongs to them, to those seemingly flawless women and men… My reflection stares back at me, dark circles under its eyes, the mouth shaped like a straight, emotionless line. The harder I try to read my own expression, the more I realize what I’m doing to myself. I shake the feeling off and smear the next beauty product in my face, it’s supposed to make your skin glow, the next one will make the old me disappear and turn me into someone that doesn’t look stupid in photographs anymore. Someone without bad hair days, someone who doesn’t feel the need to hide behind others. And suddenly I’m back to looking at my phone, didn’t I turn it off only a few minutes ago? The test sheet in front of me is starting to disappear in a blur. But this time I can’t just swipe up and stop watching. The walls around me are getting closer and closer, my skin feels itchy, it’s still reddened from that crème. I try to read the first sentence printed out before me. „Describe the social problems Shakespeare is discussing.“, I decipher. What book is this even about? About the novel stuffed carelessly into my bag, the novel I was excited to read? The phone in my back pocket is starting to feel hot, as if it would burn a hole in my jeans. I’m sick of being so dependent on short videos filling up my whole life. The window is open, and without a second thought, I throw out my phone. The young student next to me grasps for air, but I’m too busy filling out the empty sheet.

Dakota. I sit by the library window, but instead of watching the hectic city, I’ve found another distraction from studying. Paper stacks clutter the table and I’m not sure where to start. But instead of focusing, I find myself fixated on a trending sound that jingles in my head, making it impossible to concentrate. I only remember the short snippet that influencers keep using to post food videos, mirror selfies, workouts, travel clips – it seems perfect for anything, yet no one uses a different part of the song. Curios, I search my music library for the full version. The moment I press play, I‘m hooked, suddenly questioning why I was annoyed by it before. On impulse, I snap a photo of the city through the library’s window. Searching for a caption „work hard, dream big“ pops up. How ironic, considering that I haven‘t even started. Still, the phrase fits the aesthetic. I apply a filter and immediately after posting the pic, I regret it. My finger hovers over the delete button, but then I read the first comment: „girl, you’re so hardworking, respect!“ I stifle a laugh – more like a snort. Why do we always have to be hardworking? Why is it so difficult to pause? Maybe we’ve traded real pauses for endless scrolling, letting seconds, minutes, hours slip away in the blink of an eye. I glance at my watch, realizing I‘ve been in here longer than I planned. In twenty minutes, the library is going to close. Starting now would be pointless. Defeated, I gather my stuff and leave. I hurry to get home, only to realize there that I left my phone in the library. Damn. I feel a mix of anger and relief. I hate to be so scattered, but at least I‘m free from my phone for a while now.