About Unwritten

You tell yourself it’s just five minutes. Just a quick check; a message, the news, the weather. But forty minutes later, your thumb is still moving and you have no idea what you’ve actually gained.

I’ve watched myself do it in bed, commuting, between tasks at work. Sometimes it’s headlines. Sometimes it’s watching strangers rip each other apart in the comments. Sometimes it’s just flipping between the same three apps like I’m hoping one of them will suddenly have the answer to absolutely nothing.

Doom scrolling works because it pretends to put you in control; you choose when to swipe, when to stop. But it’s the other way around. The feed owns you. It’s built to drip-feed novelty, to keep you hooked even when you’re not enjoying it. And you keep coming back because you mistake stimulation for satisfaction.

The cost isn’t just the time you lose. It’s the mental residue – the restlessness, the distraction, the weight of a hundred useless worries you’ve picked up from other people’s lives and headlines.

If you wouldn’t let a stranger dump trash in your living room, stop letting one pour it into your head. Close the app. Walk away. Spend that hour on something that will still matter tomorrow.