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The phone buzzes next to me, a faint vibration humming against the table. Another notification for something I barely care about. Around me, it’s as if time stood still for a brief moment, the usual flow of reality as broken as my attention.

I unlock the screen, shedding light within its darkness, and plunge into it head first. I received a couple of texts since I last checked; my fingers tap away answers on the keyboard as I lean back. The small rectangle flashes its bright colours in my palms, calling to me. I try to ignore it for a while, in vain. I swipe through the pages of icons, mindlessly scrolling to find substance. In a blink, I’m sucked in.

I open an app, then another, jumping from content to games, texts to videos. I can take a break, can’t I? I scroll through dozens, then hundreds of posts, as the near infinite timelines sprawl their idle temptations at my fingertips. It’s as if my eyes are stapled to the screen ; my hands act as legs, galloping around the myriad of libraries just a touch away.

A faint pang of guilt hankers at the back of my brain, and I freeze. Closing yet another app, I turn off the phone and put it down.

It doesn’t last long. Even in silence, the phone beckons attention. Stronger than a siren’s song, it slithers its way through my brain, leaving a trail of “what if I’m missing something?” behind it. Although powered down, its influence seeps through my bones, picking at my skin and calling me to it: unlock me, feel me, use me, you know you can’t get enough of me.

Sweet, oh so sweet, and sticky. I pick up the electronic device again, and cave in. It’s just a quick break, it won’t hurt. I scroll through the vast oceans of honey and tar it presents to me, unable to unglue my gaze from the artificial hues. Through this unconscious stroll, an ounce of myself bangs against the screen (my reflection?), begging for me to stop, to get out, to throw the phone to the ground and crush it once and for all. Yet that voice is powerless against the terabytes of daily content laid bare before me, an unending feast made special for delirious gluttons.

I surf down the continuous waves of dopamine pulsing through the screen. The colours lure me to the point that I don’t even know what I’m even looking at anymore, or how I even got here. My fingers click and I consume, that’s how it is, that’s how it’s always been. Time flies through my palms, unused and relentless, leaving but one thought engraved in my mind: five more minutes.

At this point, it’s inescapable. I scroll every living second I get the chance to, the screen soldered to my palm. My spirit is pounding against my eyelids with bloody knuckles, but all I had has been sucked into the little rectangle of light. I lie awake, in the dark, eerie sounds playing with no connection to themselves. Seconds become hours spent staring, straight to my doom.

The addiction gets stronger and stronger, as the phone becomes a reassuring presence, a staple of the everyday. Always in the pocket, just in case. The notifications never stop feeding their syrupy content to me, keeping me barely amused. Time is thin, slipping away as days become nights and days again. And I sit, hunched over, an undead brain feeding itself with vague substance devoid of meaning, frustrated and lonely, tumbling down a rabbit hole full of nothing.

Each scroll is another step into the fog. I can’t see anymore. It goes so fast, my eyes can’t even keep up with it. The screen drains me of all focus, sucking all of my attention and desires. I slump down and don’t even have time to think; the phone is already in my hand, shining its senseless dreams directly into my soul. I can’t keep fighting, and something falls within me. It’s just a quick break.

And even then, the rat race is relentless. Each minute not working is a minute spent creating, thinking, publishing. Like, comment, subscribe, post, wait. No, no time for breaks. The pressure to consume and to create burns brighter than ever, like spires directly at my feet. The unforgiving wheel of time never stops.

A flash of clarity, and I throw away the phone across the room. My body’s last resort, and it seems to be working. All that’s left is the peace and quiet, the darkness of the night, the warmth of the day. I’m left alone with myself, present and calm. Too calm. Thoughts of the banished screen crawl along my skin, biting at the corners of my hands.

I blink. The pale screen flashes its ghostly hues in my face. My fingers hover over the applications as I hesitate. It won’t be long until I cave in and start again, breaking a wobbly resolve. I can surely take a break, can’t I?