Sitting last night in the theatre of my old high school, captivated, moved, inspired, watching my sister and her friends’ one-act plays, one caught my attention and made me see the world a different way. There were love stories, comedies, things that made some people laugh but flew over other’s heads, and then there was this great comedy about addiction, the internet, and fulfillment.
Many people alive today have no concept of a world without the luxury of mindless web browsing, giving them no reason to question it. The internet has crept into the world with subtle haste, massaging society into inhibition.
In the play I watched, the main character struggles between finishing her essay about The Great Gatsby and falling into potholes that come from being on her laptop. Though she really tries to avoid it, mindless web-browsing consumes her: cat videos, social media, ratchet articles about what 90’s sitcom celebrities look like now. . . .
We’ve all been there.
It’s a great example of poor time management and how we can let the vortex of the internet keep us from simply doing.
People who have addictions either do something about it or don’t. Usually there’s a twelve-step program, personal struggles, relapses, all that great stuff that’s on TV shows like Shameless. While the play didn’t have surface drama as intense as this, much of its tension was similar to the struggles addicts face.
I consider the most important struggle to be that the main character can’t stop browsing though she wants to, and the fact that some sites are designed to keep her there makes focusing that much strenuous. A simple Google search leads her to Facebook which leads to a Facebook game which after hours leaves her feeling hazy.
In the end, she eventually finishes her essay—prints it and everything. As she moves to turn her laptop off, a personified Google literally grabs her hand and stops her; lastly a funny, intense fight scene takes place between her and all of the personified internet colossi that have tried to lure her to their domains.
The play’s comedy and deeper meaning hinges on people relating on an everyday level to the struggles the girl faces online. Watching the audience and hearing myself laugh in understanding as she nearly surrenders her life to something fruitlessly harmful made me look under the curtain of a problem our society likes to keep veiled.
Fulfillment is different for everybody, but we should ask ourselves: is that online void fulfilling? Does it keep people from having what they’d call a great, or even happy day?
Time management is hard. I get it, but cutting out what’s obviously holding us back requires commitment. Finding priorities is easier than we think, especially if all we have is time.
What I’m trying to say is that it’s hard to not let the internet abuse us or even throw an afternoon offtrack, and though it’s tough to admit, taking a look at the theme of our browsing history may be insightful. It’s easier to refuse than to reflect, but seeing your life in a different way can really help you make it better.
I didn’t record the play, but I found a version online for ya: