Didn’t think anyone could be addicted to digital? Think again.
The general population is hooked on their phones. It’s almost like a typical extension from their wrists, stuck on the palms, with the thumb swiping up and down, up and down.
The self-obsessed nature of Man results in his eyes naturally fixating itself on their high-tech hands, those big, brown eyes darting up and down, up and down.
And they don’t realise that you might be asking to pass through that narrow corridor on a train; or that you might be yelling out your lungs because they’ve got their foot on yours.
Can’t leave the table without your phone?
Can’t walk to the washroom without your mobile?
There’s always worse.
There’s always those who compulsively check for emails and text messages, even at the loo.
There are those who make so many friends online, only to feel more depressed when they are alone.
That’s internet addiction.
I sometimes wonder if we remember those days when we grew up without Wikipedia – when ‘research’ truly meant walking into a library and begging to borrow more than the limit; when we bought countless lined notebooks to make summaries of our findings. I also wonder if we recall those days when taking the public transport meant staring out of the rain-spotted windows, thinking of how to waddle through the puddles; or painstakingly trying to read under the weak lighting of the bus.
I wish I could walk away from that wretched smartphone – that two wretched smartphones – and the laptop; ok, that three laptops. Maybe I’ll try to break that wifi connection later. But that might drive me to anxiety…