There is no question I suffer from an Instagram addiction. Put that much opportunity to feel fun and pleasure in the palm of my hand and I’m screwed.
It takes no effort for me to get addicted to things that are pleasurable. It happens just like that. If it feels good I am addicted. If it doesn’t feel that good, I will not be addicted.
Sometimes Instagram does not feel good and I put my account on temporary hold. I started using it too much. It didn’t feel good so I suspended my account.
But then I get back on and it feels good. There is so much pleasure to be had if I pull my device out from my pocket.
I don’t follow many people on Instagram. I don’t scroll. I mostly use Instagram as a cheating method. Meaning I will write something, post it and then immediately see if people appreciate it. Like it. I don’t have to deal with the difficulties of publishing. I can write a few sentences, post on Instagram and WHAM! There is the recognition I have always been wanting as a writer.
This recognition feels good. Even if only ten people like something I wrote. But then I feel like I should be getting more recognition. I feel like I am not getting any appreciation or recognition for the things I write and post. I will post more. I grow indignant and despondent. I lose control because I am so mad that I am posting more to get more of the recognition that I am wanting. I am enraged that I am out of control.
And then I will put my account on temporary hold. It’s like an addictive sexual relationship. I want her so bad. I consume her. We get it on all the time but gradually I feel like I am losing control. Like I am not getting back from this person what I need. And I grow indignant and upset all the time.
SO I need to learn to be more judicious I tell myself. Just post and then don’t care about the recognition. Only post a few times a day even though you may not get many new followers. Don’t worry about the followers. You are doing it to collect a database of your writings. Just amass as many posts as you can so that your posts are in the thousands. Then your writing will be appreciated. Then you can select and gather the posts and make a book called Toilet Ruminations. This is what I tell myself.
It is fantastic (I used that word) that I have this digital device in my hand that I can use as a creative tool. In the eighties, only my male sexual organ served this purpose. Now I can use this digital device to write things and post them on Instagram and create this following, along with a body of work. All as I go through the motions of my day. It is a pretty remarkable creative tool even though it may be giving all of us cancer.
But I need to get better about this becoming addicted to anything that feels good. I just love things that feel good. Food. Coffee. Ice cream. Marijuana. Blow jobs. Breasts. Meditation. Female skin. Orgasm. My penis. Kombucha. Music. Good smells. Beer. Vodka. Muffins. Pornography. Doing nothing. Strippers. Books. Records. Clothes. Protest. Instagram. I am addicted to all these things and more.
After all, I am a deeply unhappy man. Isolated and alienated. I live in a cultural abyss. A vacuum of crap. My hair is thinning. I am surrounded by no one I like. I am in exile from everything. I have an infected tooth and only one testicle left. I need all the pleasure I can get.