I've taken it upon myself to write every day this summer. I haven't.
As I grow up (takes time, k3d i am), I feel increasingly compelled to pursue meaning in this quagmire of incessant distraction. Life is but a series of alternating intervals of intense focus, followed by total lackadaisical waywardness, epicureanism or bacchanalian debauch. Maybe, it is symptomatic of the times we live (?) in.
While I especially don't like indulging the latter, I do enjoy a good doomscroll every once in a while. I don't like to before or too long after writing bouts, because I try to keep the mind unsullied for those.
I probably enjoy it most in the evening after dinner, but not too close to bedtime because I save that for reading analogue.
Can anyone here relate?
Funny isn't it that distraction these days is synonymous with doomscrolling -- there are so many things that could be distracting us: neighborly gossip, reading romance novels, playing video games, making out with a pretty lady, eating snack foods of various richness, playing tricks on our kids, and on and on -- but what does distract us is swiping and swiping on our phones.
I'll confess that I enjoy it most when I'm intending to read something complicated.
(I'm curious what writing you are working on -- fiction? nonfiction? a long term project or shorter things?)
Not for me but I feel I am kind of alone in this. But... I use my phone for:
and that's it. I still have SN PWA on there but I rarely use it. Last time was because it was the middle of the night and I forgot to pay for territory earlier and was lazy to get out of bed to my laptop.
My question to y'all is: what are you doomscrolling?
For me, it is X.
For my wife, LinkedIn.
For young people I know: Instagram.
(Thus far, I have prevented my children from any doomscrolling habits by curtailing their access to devices -- they have access to a laptop for school and for playing Age of Empires, Heroes of Might and Magic II, and SNES ROMs).
Also, I'd note that I use doomscrolling as a word to mean spending time scrolling on social media when you don't consciously intend to (the result for me is that I usually find interesting things to write about, not necessarily that I indulge in voyeuristic outrage).
It is certainly easier to be more conscious of how I use my time on a laptop. While I don't install unnecessary apps on my phone, I am logged in to X in my browser, which is enough.
Same, I went back on X after weirdness started increasing this summer. SN was my gateway drug. For a while I renounced it. Damn strong stuff, that algorithm.
Lucky kids. Being young in these times would be hard. In my days, video games sucked in my friends, but we were pretty poor so I was always a little behind the curve on what was new and happening. I played video games, but never got good enough or obsessed over them. I preferred to sneak out to find trouble in the neighbourhood, skateboard, break/burn/slash things. I wonder how many other bitcoiners had a rebellious bent.
Maybe it is indicative of a loss of meaning of these other pastimes you mentioned. Or a forgetfulness of the virtue of boredom ("go be bored. You'll thank me later," said my father, many a time, to young billy). Or maybe the opposite, that these things now count as productive activities because there are even more-mind numbing things you could be doing.
Some good examples of perfectly normal things that fill the unproductive hours. Being bored spurrs us toward these things, or so thought the old man. I would tend to agree with him now. The definition of boredom, I fear, has shifted to, being totally and utterly saturated with brainrot slop that you have to puke or go wank it or touch grass, skinnydip in the crick, sun the boys etc etc....
I'm guilty of doing the same.
All the above and none. I want whatever it is to be completely new. An American novel that's not about America. The fictionalized story of my life, not billytheked, though he is definitely featured, long-winded but not long enough. It is trying to be a novel, whatever it is. And I am still enjoying writing it. I hope it gets published one day and I can send you a copy. I realized I had so many unfinished projects buried in the ideas graveyard, and I'd like to unite them all into something great. Wish me luck.
Don't wait too long to publish. The ground of writing is changing beneath our feet and I'm wondering if writing only survives today if it can escape into the interwild fairly quickly. I'll be interested to read your story whenever you have it ready.
I might take you up on that.
Why do you think speed matters?
Because I like to think people will always have the appetite to read something old and timeless. I guess there's a chance that we as a species stop educating our children to appreciate these types of works; but even then, won't there still be the curious pupil who just has to know how things were and how people thought they're going to be?