I don’t keep the Instagram app on my phone, though I have an account. I know I could limit my screentime on it or simply not open the app, but it is near impossible for me to actually do this in practice. So it remains—I kill it and revive it from the App Store periodically, usually when I need to promote something or ask for donations for a friend.

I don’t like Instagram, I tell myself, because it overwhelms. It’s much the same reason I don’t have Tiktok at all—the barrage of noise really gets to me, as an extremely audio-sensitive human being. The pictures distress me, too. They seem all fake, all poised and edited to the nines. You must have this many visible pores to ride. You must be selling something. You must be yourself.

The thing is that social media, from its inception, has always been a popularity contest. And this is not an inherently awful thing, because popularity is useful. The awfulness comes in the direction in which we utilize. We market, we strategize. My Instagram feed is color coded. The tones bleed from orange to red to yellow to blue to green. Do you not love me? Do you not feed me? Do you not see me as I am, filters and all? Fillers and all? Gaze upon my face and shudder. And be not afraid, for you too can try this diet tummy tea for only $17.99 per box. Order now! Order now! Order now!

Instagram makes nuance bite-sized, makes it consumable. But doesn’t Twitter? Popularity fighting popularity. The ouroboros of the Internet and the capitalist curse are one and the same. We feed the snake itself, over and over. I tap like on my friends’ posts because I love them. My like is buried in a dense red swarm of notifications. We all like. We all like. Don’t you like it? Twitter rolled out a dislike button recently for replies only. Don’t you like it? Twitter says the white supremacists in my friends’ mentions do not violate the terms of safety. Don’t you like it? Elon Musk bought Twitter. One day he’ll buy me too. One day I’ll eat myself to death and starve. Don’t you like it? Aren’t you full yet? The algorithm feeds you more. More. Buzzwords. Keywords. Keep it going. Feed the cycle. Feed it. More. More.

I exert my power over most social media by keeping it on my laptop, not on my phone. Instagram requires my phone. Instagram requires my birthday. We can’t let you see adult content, but you can always lie. What’s adult? Is it a post about sex ed? Is it a picture of a trans person? What’s adult? Oh, look, trans people are dying. Everyone can see that. Everyone sees. It’s popular for us to die. Look at the spectacle. Look closer. I hope I die before it ends. Look closer. I hope we all do.

I revive myself from my phone periodically. But the last six months of deep depressive episode have kept me glued to the screen. No energy. Low energy. Rising gas prices. It’s all the same. My body sprawled sideways on my bed for ten hours a day is a direct contributor to climate collapse. I hope you know that. The ocean will not swallow me before the day ends. The sun will not reach us soon enough. It’s all despair. It’s all smiles. Edit before you upload. Make sure it’s just right. Make sure it looks good. Step back—no, further. Look at the Earth from far away. It’s fine. It’s fine. It looks green and blue. Don’t we all. And

KEEP LOOKING. KEEP LOOKING FOR ACCOUNTABILITY. KEEP LOOKING BECAUSE IF YOU DON’T IT’S YOUR FAULT. KEEP LOOKING BECAUSE YOU CAN’T LOOK AWAY. DIDN’T YOU KNOW YOU DON’T HAVE TO STARE AT THE CAR CRASH. IS YOUR NECK REALLY SO RUBBER. ARE YOU A CHICKEN. THEN WHY ARE YOU CROSSING THE ROAD?

DON’T SCROLL PAST

DON’T SCROLL PAST

DON’T SCROLL PAST

DON’T SCROLL PAST

DON’T SCROLL PAST

ARE YOU DOOMSCROLLING? WILL YOU SAVE US? WILL YOU SAVE YOURSELF? GET OFF THE INTERNET AND TOUCH GRASS! TOUCH GRASS! TOUCH GRASS! STOP LOOKING AT ME AND TOUCH GRASS!

Are you touching it yet? Are you feeling it now Mr. Krabs? Are you reaching 100k followers on your Spongebob meme account? Are you holding life fragile within your palms while your chest aches with everything you cannot speak aloud? Are you living? In your phone? Is there a world in there? Are you seeing it?

QUESTION EVERYTHING. AND SIGN UP FOR BETTERHELP FREE ONLINE THERAPY TODAY.

I’m checking in on my friends when I log in. I’m going to their accounts and seeing what they’ve posted lately. I’m staring at a dozen donation posts shared to the same story. I’m tapping through. I’m not donating. I’m the worst person in the world. I’m not sharing. Someone might see it if I did. Someone who would give. Someone who would repost. Someone who would donate. I’m not sharing it. I’m closing the app. I’m deleting it again. I’m looking at my bank account. I’m remembering the post I saved on mutual aid distribution and how to calculate what amount you should be spending. I’m not redownloading the app. I’m not sharing the post. I’m holding an incredible quantity of information in one hand. Google is free. I’m not opening Google. I have all the time in the world. I’m not opening Google.

Tonight I opened Instagram and I saw beautiful pictures. I’ve had my account since 2013. I wish to see more beautiful pictures. When I first made my account I remember liking every single post on my feed, because I loved them all equally and believed that liking them would demonstrate this. I will never use the Instagram shop tab. And most importantly I am not better than you because of that. I hope you see the beautiful pictures, too.