I've Reached the Internet Saturation Point

I don't need a fucking subtitle

I’m reading a book called The Science of Storytelling by Will Storr, and one of the themes is how our experiences aren’t the actual reality but are simply our brains trying to make sense of all the information we’re exposed to. As we grow, neural pathways are formed and narratives are written, and everything that follows is experienced through that prism. We don’t truly “see” anything, our brain translates the data to fit our pre-existing narrative or worldview.

In other words, we create our own reality to fit what we already know. Call it confirmation bias, but it’s impossible to account for every piece of new information we encounter, so our brain paints a picture with what’s already known.

Speaking of new information, recently I’ve become aware that I’m at capacity for information. The amount of data we take in and process every day is more than at any other time in human history. That sounds like strong empirical evidence that we’re giving ourselves ADHD, then self-diagnosing all kinds of mental health issues when we’re the ones causing them.

Every writer thinks they have ADHD. Lots of us self-diagnose as “neurodiverse” or having ASD or some other kind of attention problem, but maybe our lifestyle is causing some of it. We drink from the firehose of the internet all day every day, then we wonder why we’re all fucking burned out.

After quitting Medium and joining Substack last year, I was drawn in by the engagement and apparent open arms of so many readers and writers here. I’ve met some wonderful people and made some great connections, but it turns out it’s really just another social media platform. Substack Notes sucks you in just like Twitter or Instagram and you’re just another number in the algorithm, and you’ll still be crushed under a daily avalanche of pleas for subscribers and attention and vapid posts that serve no purpose at all.

Sure, Substack has all kinds of bells and whistles like Substack Live and podcast stuff, but if everyone is doing it, we’re all just adding to the din. It’s just more desperate people clamoring for attention.

Once the novelty of a new platform wore off, I realized it’s not just a platform I’m tired of; it’s the entire system. The way we live and engage with the internet is obnoxious and pointless. Spending hours trying to convince people you have something of value to offer is probably the saddest use of our time and is the opposite of living a fulfilling life.

As an experiment, I shut it all down. I stopped posting notes, stopped writing articles, stopped looking at Instagram, and stopped talking to people whom I wasn’t already close to. I left my phone inside and went out on the deck. I stopped responding to every fucking text or notification and ignored the vast majority.

I didn’t miss anything. I didn’t miss being sold something a thousand times a day. I didn’t miss the noise, nor did I miss any interaction with my friends, because I could just CALL THEM or go get coffee. In the online world, calling people “connections” because we exchange a few messages or share a similar story feels good at first, then becomes a bit hollow. Humanity is still trying to synthesize real connection through this magnificent interconnected world we’ve created.

As an addict, I know what it feels like to need something that’s not a healthy option. Our desperate need for acceptance and approval is deep and depressing, and extremely unhealthy.

In my spell of veritable solitude and quiet, I remembered years ago when all my friends flooded to Facebook and I didn’t. I was a late adopter of all social media and wasn’t on any of it until Twitter was already falling apart. Now I remember how much I wasn’t missing. I remember what it’s like to live my life without anyone’s judgment or opinions on everything I say or post, and I remember what it’s like not to have to curate a life to show the world.

I’m not bitter or angry. I simply no longer care to share my life unless I have something I want to say. The cacophony of voices and opinions and experiences is now pink noise that only distracts me from real life. I’m saturated with information, and it’s time to dry out.

Maybe this is just me being difficult or swimming upstream like I’ve done my whole life. Maybe this is just the day I realize I’m getting too old for the way people live their modern lives. But maybe I don’t care because living a quiet, peaceful life feels like the right move right now.

See you around, kid.