I know it’s the undisputed king of clichés, but ignorance really is bliss. Being absolutely oblivious can be delightful, because you can never be disappointed about something you don’t know.
Wouldn’t you rather live a gleeful existence without knowing that your girlfriend is gonna elope with your sworn enemy, who happens to club baby seals for a living? Wouldn’t you rather eat three KFC Double Downs without realizing that their cataclysmic effects on your blood pressure are reducing your heart’s bomb tick by 10 minutes…EACH?
I lost my iPhone while visiting my roommate in New Jersey this past weekend. Up until that Friday night when I left it on a bus, I harbored the assumption that this device, decked out in a red rechargeable mophie case and brimming with enough game high scores to arouse many pale children, provided general awareness and, therefore, happiness. I thought I really needed it, even though I never gave any shred of a shit as to why I assumed it was so necessary to my daily life.
When I woke up Saturday morning in a fog of Fireball, the realization of losing something important last night washed over me in a terrible wave, but only for a few fleeting moments. Maybe it was because that narcotic cinnamon in the back of my throat shielded any long-term rational reaction. Maybe it was because I was already on vacation with good friends, which graciously warranted a lack of communication with everyone else on Earth for the time being.
We went to the beach. I can casually assert that most of us never check our phones on the beach, but we usually have the impulse. That casual temptation to be connected, to be felt or seen in one way or another. We want to see if our friends are having a better time than us. If they’re snapchatting their Bro puking their guts out or catching a massive skate fishing off a beach.
I mean, it was GREAT. I felt boundless. Exhilarated. On the verge of frenzy. My life’s list of important things shrunk to half the size it was before. Nothing mattered except whatever laid within my field of view.
There’s a very profound aspect of existence to acknowledge about having no connection to the “world.” It’s very simple: why should we give a shit?
We are not kitties. We only have one shot at life. Our focus should be on everything beyond the lens. When we try to capture everything, whether it’s through a picture that lives online or a 10-second video that never rears its ass again, it inhibits our human experience. The experience of actually talking to people in a social setting without escaping to our social media worlds. The experience of being ALIVE.
Having no phone for more than 24 hours really puts things into perspective. You learn more about yourself than you ever could in a shrink’s office or [Insert Vice] Anonymous meeting. It harkens back the age of innocence. You know, when your largest concern was whether you were gonna have chicken nuggets or 17 bags of Cheetos for lunch, before or after taking a nap.
End of rant. Sorry. I’ll talk about drinking later.
[Phone via Shutterstock]