i hate social media
also, should I let my hacker use my Substack for an hour for $1k?
I used to spend all day scrolling Twitter. Like, all day, lying in bed, sliding my finger down so my timeline would reload, like I was pulling the lever of a slot machine. But my hatred of it became impossible to ignore. How there’s a topic of the day that splits Twitter into two sides, and everyone has to pick one. How everyone feels the need to chime in on a topic even (especially!) if they don’t know anything about it. How people are always preaching even though they’re in no place to give other people advice. How every nuance of every situation dissipates and everyone thinks in black-and-white, blurting sweeping generalizations for RTs and getting high off a sense of superiority.
I have a lot to say about social media as someone who was born in 2000 and had an Instagram when I was twelve. I feel like I’ve lost whole years of my life to social media. Scrolling is a drug that numbs my brain. I feel uncomfortable without it. That compulsion to scroll consumes me.
But in the past few months, my bitterness became too much. I just wished people would shut up, then I realized I didn’t have to deal with them if I didn’t want to. I logged out when people started calling Steve Albini a pedophile a few days after he died. And for once I didn’t feel that impulsive desire to log back in.
I guess it’s been a little over a month or so since I exited. Now, I only come on about once a week when I have a new piece of writing I want to share. Instead of bedrotting with phone in hand, I have been walking every day. I recently rediscovered this hidden gem I found years ago and forgot about:
I have been reading Heather Lewis’ disturbing masterpiece Notice. Recently, I have also read: Sweet Days of Discipline by Fleur Jaeggy, Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov, Big Swiss by Jen Beagin, Ripcord by Nate Lippens, I Rot by Lana Valdez, Anyone’s Ghost by August Thompson, and Ponyboy by Eliot Duncan. They were all spectacular because I have immaculate taste and don’t waste time with shitty books.
I am working on a novella. Unfortunately, I was too enthusiastic about it at first and then I crashed. With my work, I oscillate between confident/excited and insecure/scared. I am currently feeling the latter. Usually I tell myself that it’s unproductive to feel insecure. It’s a waste of time/energy. However, I don’t know, maybe it’s OK. Maybe I should just let it pass, etc.
Last week, my interview with endlessly amazing resource and prettiest website ever The Creative Independent went up. Sheridan Wilbur is an awesome interviewer and writer. I ended the interview saying: “At this point, I should have been offered a marketing job at a book publisher for all the memes I made about my book.” Miracle: I have since been offered a publicity gig for a lovely small press. Dreams do come true. I got the email a few hours after I sat in a cafe talking with a ~65-year-old man and he said: “Do what you love. The money will follow.” Alex G’s “Sarah” was playing and the moment felt poetic and movie-like. He also suggested I get into modeling, and if not regular modeling, then hand modeling or foot modeling.
I’m not sure why I’m making this post. Oh, I know why. Someone was trying to hack my Substack. Evidence:
This idiot even made a fake email saying my email address was updated. It said it was from “Substack,” but when I clicked it it said creator+11233@o.backerkit.com. So I replied and to my surprise he replied to my reply:
I don’t know. Sounds like a good deal… Should I?
Anyway, since I’m off social media maybe I will use Substack more. One last anecdote: since swearing off social media, I’ve been a little less bitter. However, not that much, as you can see from my use of the words “stupid bitch” above. Also, the other day I was driving and this guy made a right turn when I was driving straight and basically cut me off and so I was driving on his ass a bit because like why would you do that? You asked for it by cutting me off. So he braked to a stop, got out of his car, and yelled: “Why are you on my ass?” I was kind of amazed/amused, but I also felt bad. Then he just got back in his car and that was it. So, right now I am vowing to stop being so bitter. The world is beautiful (as pictured above, like, a few pictures back). There are sprawling green fields and an endless blue sky and clear waters and buzzing dragonflies. Who cares about anything else?
<33333 so glad our interview led to some practical magic
for a second there in the picture I thought that was a little cup of dill you just had on your blanket.