Performative Punishment
I'm impatient.
As I try to urgently finish this article, a part of me yearns to return to watching the YT video I've just left. It's a part of me I'm horrified with, but a part of me that just wants to return and forget.
I feel as though there's a bug in my brain, running all around my mind in a desperate urge to get back to watching. If I don't, I feel it'll eat my brain. I'm craving to return. It's like I'm on crack.
But 3-4 minutes in, I'm locked into writing. Occasionally. Sometimes, when I'm lucky, I get lost in writing. Either journaling, thinking about something or enjoying my surroundings. It's become weird to not look at a phone than to be looking at one.
What has the phone managed to do to us? It's like they've been engineered purely to make you a slave of it. To keep liking and scrolling. It's unsettling beyond belief. Oh lord, what do I do?
I come to write about the most recent Substack I cross-posted. It tanked. The previous one was resoundingly successful. 70 views, INSANE! But this one still sits at 20. Why, why is it so?
I feel like people can read the performative act I was putting on. In the one that went viral, I had just posted a journal entry which I felt was a good lesson to me. It was something I suffered, wrote in a way I understood and posted it without seeking any approval.
But this latest one? Yes, it was still a journal entry of mine but it also originated with a substack post in mind. This performative-ness was baked in! haha, serves me right to be punished.
Yet I am happy, this realisation allowed me to write something I don't care about posting. It let me revert into someone who doesn't give a shit!
HAHAH I RETURNED TO WATCHING A VIDEO