The Social Media Fatigue
I had other plans for today than write this, but felt like sharing some thoughts still.
So here we go, to whom it may concern.
We’re drowning in a sea of shallowness.
There is seems to be more numbness and indifference.
Algorithms relentlessly push noise at us, masquerading as content. Endless scrolling, mindless taps, phantom notifications.
It’s engagement, they say.
But engagement isn’t created by clicks alone.
True engagement needs attention, time, a willingness to dive deep. And that’s exactly what we’ve lost.
The promise of social media was connection, community. Now, it’s a disenchanted wasteland filled with fleeting likes and transactional exchanges.
The vibrant town square is all but deserted. Even the private communities, meant as an antidote, feel suffocating in their narrowness.
We’re not quite bored, but we’re not truly entertained either. We’re in a limbo.
This is a different beast altogether – the numb boredom of the overstimulated.
Oversaturated with endless “content,” we grow jaded. Desensitized.
More, in this case, is the enemy of better.
Confetti Rain
Think of it as “time confetti.“
Our attention, our precious moments, are shredded into meaningless scraps.
Each swipe, like, or fleeting comment scatters our focus–time confetti tossed into the wind. A minute here, a half-hearted scroll there.
This confetti-filled approach to our own lives fuels that pervasive languishing – that craving for moments of unbroken concentration and genuine connection.
We feel drained, unmoored, because we’ve replaced deep engagement with shallow hits of distraction.
Overstimulated and Numb
The act of participation has shifted. We’ve become passive consumers, mere data points in a vast attention-harvesting machine. There’s a numbness, a languishing that’s taken hold.
We shut our eyes, crave silence. Exhausted, yes, but still yearning for something more than the synthetic nourishment of the feed.
Many of us check in out of habit, a fleeting scan, and then disconnect.
Too much noise, too many loons ready to pounce.
We’ve become defensive, hesitant to truly engage, withdrawn.
We miss the vibrancy of authentic exchange, but there’s no replacement in sight.
And so it goes.
Will we be the last humans to turn out the lights, leaving the town square to bots and AI?
Funny how those algorithms, for all their supposed intelligence, still depend on us—the ones they’ve steadily drained of genuine energy.
No ten-step solution here, sorry.
It’s just an observation, a gut check.
Are we going to sleepwalk into a future where every interaction is filtered, shallow, and optimized for someone else’s profit?
You may enjoy these books.
