Laura Hern
There is one routine I simply cannot live without.
8:00am. The world is fresh. Still. Real.
Roll over. Attempt to turn off my alarm. I’ve been trying to condition myself to wake up to the harsh tinkle of ‘By the Seaside,’ but I think I’ll try a new alarm tomorrow. Scroll through the meticulous array of generic iPhone sounds. I’m feeling ‘Marimba.’ I set it to 7:00am. This time I will actually be productive.
9:00am. Speaking of productive, I wonder who’s messaged me? Instagram’s app symbol is becoming more familiar than my mother’s face. I open up a photo of her to re-immortalise her features in my head, and press my cheek to the flat, cold surface of my phone. If I sit there a few minutes it almost starts to feel like skin, the screen becoming an echo of my warmth, almost like a living breathing life force. A hunger I cannot name begins to crawl its way deep into my core. Driven by temptation I ignore it and keep scrolling.
10:00am. My eyes burn. “What pizza are you based on your birth month?” “Gaza Death Toll Rises as Israel Intensifies West Bank Attacks” ,“Taylor Swift Announces Name of Fourth Cat as Easter Egg for New Album”, “Is Italian Brainrot Really Rotting Your Brain?” , “Just went to Bali, I cannot recommend the spicy margaritas enough!’ “Just got engaged!” “Ukrainian village decimated after Russian Bombing”, “Thank god it’s Friday xx” “POV: you meet your best friends in first year of uni <3” “Trump Claims Tariff Revenue Will Cover Tax Refunds”.
11:00am. “If you don’t travel to X countries by 21, you’re wasting time!” “Is 2025 the year to become Amish?” “R/Reddit: AITAH for leaving my wife?” “20 Signs You May Have Cancer” “Celebs are name-dropping their anti-depressants” “How to use pretty privilege to climb the corporate ladder” “Live Posting from China!” “Goodbye Miffy, you were the bestest boy.” “Graduation photos!” “Volunteering in the Galapagos!”
There is something I am searching for.
I keep scrolling.
12:00pm. “Astrology; the Do’s and Don’ts When Talking to Scorpio’s” “I love these guys” “NASA located ribose forms on an asteroid essential for creating life!” “Jeff Bezos claims to have found asteroid holding essential sugar forms for creating life” “UPDATE ON ASTEROID: Legal action over ownership of Asteroid between Jeff Bezos and NASA reveals ribose sugars to be dust particles” “12 easy steps to spruce up your garden” “Is AI taking our jobs?” “Andrew Tate’s Manosphere is turning more men into boys”.
1:00pm. The low battery warning bleats quietly until my phone blacks out. The avalanche of noise immediately ceases and the world is too still, too real, too quiet, and I am too alone, too aware of my heart beating blood through my body wrapped in a blanket. I am not in Bali. I am not engaged. I am alone.
2.00pm. I have to post. If I do not post proof I have lived, I do not exist. I'm not lonely, look at my friends. When did I see them again? No one will know it has been two years. My phone blares to life again and I rummage through my camera roll. I type and untype a caption:
“Living the Dream” - no, wait,
3:00pm.
“With my girls!”
My stomach looks too big, my chin too small -
4:00pm.
I press the S E N D button drilling severe blue lines into my skull.
The unnameable hunger begins to grate against the diaphysis of my skeleton as the first red heart blares from my notifications. I fixate on it tensing from the thrill every few minutes a red icon shows.
5:00pm.
ANGELBABY23 COMMENTED: “lol”
My heart seizes staring at the three letters. Those three letters were typed out in 3 seconds. Three seconds of their day. Twelve hours out of mine. My heart regains momentum, speeding up until it beats away to the hunger drum. I do not feel happy.
6:00pm.
ILUVUX10_ COMMENTED: “cute”
The hunger drum clashes its symbols. Suddenly my safe heaven is a parasocial panopticon as the heart icons become a more frequen crescendo, spawning in twos, red eyes shrieking in time with my symphony of yearning.
7:00pm.
Notice me.
Perceive me.
Please. Please.
Love me.
Love me.
Love me.
8:00pm.
Something cannibalistic is controlling me---the voyeur of social media sinks its dirty teeth and pulls me into a shaking fever. My body is suffering a drought of affection.
9:00pm.
The fever turns sour as the alert for 2,000 likes blares. My concave stomach burns with acid bile as I zoom in on each of my posts, one by one. A fruitless effort to perfect and dissect in third person artificial analysis. What can I do to be better, to be loved?
10:00pm.
My eyes water from having a staring contest with myself. The 2D toothy smile gleams. I feel vulnerable, too many eyes on me. My thumb hovers over the ‘DELETE ACCOUNT’ button.
I press it.
11:00pm.
12:00am.
1:00 am.
“10 ways to lose that baby fat this summer!” “Is this generation becoming too soft?” “New information reveals Ozempic causes cancer” “You Only Live Once: Live a Nomadic Lifestyle in the Heart of Mongolia!” “Are You Really Happy?”
Laura is a frazzled student by day and a yearning creative by night. She draws inspiration from the circle of life, nostalgia, and dreams. Her work has been published in The Quick Brown Dog Journal, Minor Gospel, Bad Apple, Overcom, Circular, and Tarot.