the old me is dying, the new me is struggling to be born

I, like most people, have been trying to, in some ways radically, redefine my relationship with technology and the internet in particular. Well, no, really this is about social media first and then (access to) media second. Facebook became accessible to me just before going off to college (the requirement of an EDU email address was dropped, I mean), but I left Facebook before I left college—I haven't regretted that or ever felt like I've needed a Meta account. (Before Facebook I, of course, had a MySpace account, but that fell to time and chasing trends). In that meantime, I had a Tumblr blog for a long time, but abandoned that before I went to the military. (Don't Ask, Don't Tell was still in effect, but rumored to be getting removed, which turned out to be true.) And then Twitter, of course, for the longest period...maybe seven or eight years? But it soured long before Elon Musk and I had deleted that some years ago. Now I am Bluesky and, aside from that platform's slow descent in VC-funded hell, I like it quite a bit. The thing I want out of social media, truly, is just gay guys acting dumb, and Bluesky delivers that flawlessly.

Media. Art has always struggled within and against and despite of capitalism, though I pursue mostly queer arts, which were, for a long time, unprofitable, and so made the pursuit difficult. Difficult, but rewarding. Alas, everything can be profited from. Anyway, first of all, the transition to streaming media and the subscription service-ification of everything has its obvious, consumerist manipulations and has, I think and hate to think, greatly diminished art and media. Finding a remarkable piece of media feels rarer and rarer, from books to movies to video games. I'm thinking of Twinless and Heated Rivalry right now, and I can't remember the last good video game I played. I have picked up a book in, quite possibly, a year. (I'm mourning books, but I also just simply need to read—this is the crux of what I'm trying to say here).

I need to say all of this because what I'm trying to say is that, well, I think I'm bored. But worse: I'm feeling ennui. This is ridiculous: I have things to do. Often, even, I have work to do, work that I am, for whatever reason, procrastinating. I have books on my bookshelf that are unread. I have video games on my Switch that are unplayed. I'm bored? I don't know why I feel this so acutely.

I watch a TV show, Real Housewives or Heated Rivalry or something, and I'm afraid now that I'm substituting sociality with media. I'm sorry, I made a leap here, but none of this really makes sense anyway. I am feeling this ennui after leaving behind so many streaming services—I don't need to be paying those subscriptions and so much that is produced on them is so unfulfilling, sometimes maddeningly so. And the media I do want to watch are often produced characterizations of social relationships (or the occasional, fictionalized romance, drama, or whatever...what media has always been). So I am not filling my time with empty media—and, please, this is not a condemnation of reality TV; I adore it and would like to simply enjoy it rather than worry about my mental health before and after watching an episode!—which should open my time to more fulfilling projects, but instead I feel a tightness in my chest, shallow breathing. Anxiety for what?

I have to go further back. Now, I am bad at socializing. Although I've always been slightly misanthropic, during the pandemic lockdowns, I really became full blown misanthropic. A development of antisocial tendencies. I haven't recovered from that; I not good at socializing in the sense that I don't think to do it. Now, though, I find myself at a bar looking at my phone and looking at other people looking at their phones. Why can't I put my phone down? I used to go to bars with books...but is that different?

I need to socialize. I need to leave my house. The homebody in me must die. I have to do the awkward conversation and meet people. I need to watch a drag queen with other people standing too close. I need to call my friends. I'll probably write more about this. (Situation still unfolding, updates forthcoming.)