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Writer's pictureKevin Raine

My Addiction

Updated: Mar 21

You Don't want to know how many hours of phone screen time I logged today. This particular day anyway..

Keep reading and I'll tell you...


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Gripppppped by it today man. The amount of times I’ve said that I would put it down is wild. Like sugar. You get a taste and then you’re ravenous. If it’s within reach it’s goin' down the hatch. At least that’s how it is for me. How is it that you can skip breakfast and not feel hungry but then as soon as you’ve had a nibble of something all you want is more.

More more more. More sugar, more social media, more of whatever other BS we’re hooked to. Out of sight out of mind.


How do we coexist with such temptations? The cigarette smoker can’t quit if he’s got a pack on him at all times. The cocaine addict can’t shake the habit if he’s carrying a baggy around with him everywhere he goes. Examples of this are unlimited. If there’s cake in the fridge or a phone in my hand – you bet I’m eatin’ that fucking cake, with some scrolling on the side.


How do we coexist with the addiction, distraction and consumption of what our phones have to offer? How do I use it as a tool, if every task I attempt is like fighting through a ruthless defence of social media platforms all looking for the tackle. How do I, having fought to accomplish “simple” things, put it away without that feeling you get when you’re halfway to your car CONVINCED you’re forgetting something. Patting your pockets you turn around – stuck, at least for a little while, between the car and your front door. You don’t continue to move forward and drive away while convinced you’re forgetting something or missing out on something. So you retreat, open your bag, or your phone, and reset.


Phone, wallet, keys, laptop, charger.

Facebook, Instagram, Snapchat, Gmail, Twitter.

Personal messages. Business messages.


And, an unlimited amount of routes and spirals complete with unlimited decisions, salesmen, highlight reels, and pornography. Unlimited “ads” meant just for you. They’re fishing you with genetically modified bait you continue to show them you want. What’s your favourite food they’ve asked, without asking, as they’ve continued to feed you an unlimited buffet of exactly what you’ve proven to them you’re craving.


Well what is it that you want? Exactly?


Well…

… “More”.


More of THE HITS baby!


More lights, more cameras, more action.




More content.

More connection.

More love.

More inspiration.

More community.

More encouragement.

More of what you love.


More information on that thing you’re learning about.

More news on that thing you’re keeping up to date on.

More education on whatever it is you’re into.

More unique recipes.

More activity ideas.

More of what your friends are up to.

More funny.

More in depth.


More hooks.

More likes and comments

More exercise videos and routines.

More of what you could be doing more of or better at.

More memes about those niche things of yours.

More extreme sports.

More wipeouts.

More street fights.

More car accidents.

More of your friends are doing great.

More comparison to people you don’t know.

More explicit behaviour.

More normalised extremes.

More trolls.

More products.

More niche.



More ass and tits.

More blood and guts.

More exhilarating.

More dangerous.

More to be envious of.

More to confirm your biases.

More grotesque.

More to hate.

More to divide.


More to continue to tell yourself you no longer need, but continue to reach back for.


More to become frustrated over when you're continually gripped by the thing.

More to be even harder on yourself over having not been able to shake it.

More to hate yourself for more and more the more you know what is true but remain unable to kick it -- or keep it under control.


For 10 hours today I was glued to my phone. TEN.


Trapped in fantasy and simulation we’ve recalibrated our satiative baselines to see us choose scrolling despite opportunity for real discussion. We choose artificial over official, and we find ourselves virtual fans of our own hobbies instead of maintaining our true hobbies and interests. We don’t do things – we watch things. We’ll watch food videos while ordering more and more skip the dishes, deliveroo, uber eats, or whatever the new one is called this week.


We’ll watch people hunting, fishing, woodworking, exercising, exploring, and adventuring while we wait for our friend to send us a text with their last minute cancellation that kiboshes our feeble plans at escaping the metaverse. And so, with their cancellation maybe we’ll catch some videos highlighting what we aren’t going to do ourselves today.


Our conveniences are crippling. Our conversational and social nature are dwindling. Why would I talk to you – if I can listen to the best in the world every Monday on my favourite podcast.


How did we end up here?

How do we even express where we’ve wound up?


Picking sides, sick inside, staying still as such to hide.


How is it that everything good turned bad?

What has come of all this unlimitedness that we’ve come to depend on?

What do we do? What now?


We all want more.

More. More. More.


The more we take in -- the more we take on. The more fragmented our focus the more stunned we become. Spread so thin we blow in the wind. An inch deep and a mile wide we see that in order to achieve more we must seek less. Instead of single chips spread into single squares we must take our chips and stack them safely – choosing wisely where to play them.


All this “more more more” has resulted in us being:



More anxious.

More sad.

More angry.

More resentful.

More unsettled.

More fearful.

More judgemental.

More self centred.


We’ve become:



Less active.

Less interested.

Less interesting.

Less engaged.

Less inspired.

Less dependable.

Less stable.

Less conscientious.

Less empowered.

Less community focussed.


What MORE would be made available, what more could be accomplished, if LESS is what we strived for?


Could it really be true that less is more?


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