Not long ago, I had an epiphany that my grandparents', parents', and partially my generation (in the 90s) all lived just hunky dorey without the internet, and actually did real stuff with their/our lives, and not to show off either. Upon remembering this, I immediately deleted all my social media accounts, as well as signed up for calligraphy lessons, took up playing an insturment native to my country of birth, and began reading books galore, in between work that is. And no, I'm far from rich. My mind has finally returned to some sense of normalcy. No longer am I depressed. Nor am I glued to watching clips of utterly shallow people, negative news, vicious comments, and likes. Nor am I trying to label myself and pretend that everyone gives a damn. When I step outside, I actually hear birds, watch sunsets, let myself get soaked by rain, and say hi to random people who appear lonely... I'm not denying that the Internet has connected us and made some aspects of life a wee bit easier, but it's also like this thick green fog blinding and silently killing us. What's worse is that until you step out of the loop, you have no idea you're in the fog. It reminds me of that alien in a tank from Dune who is addicted to "the spice." He/it once started off as human, too. We need to hit re-boot.