Blue Ghost
A night out scrolling
Article and art by Katie Kamino
I stand in a stupor of decision(s). What now? I don’t want to do homework. I don’t want to cook food. I’m sick of checking my email. I’m not in an art mood. And I definitely don’t want to go for a run. My body feels hollow and my brain is operating as if it were in a vat of syrup. I need to press pause on the day, even though at this point, it is closer to night and the sun in the wintry sky has already set. I finally sit on the edge of my bed in surrender; look at my phone.
I start with a pull of my Instagram feed, downing the endless scroll of pictures and videos. I chug reels as each influencer spins stories of wanderlust into my head and drink it in avidly as someone skydives down an amber-ale narrow canyon. Just one minute, one scroll, one check of my notifications. The first taste of Instagram goes down quickly and I feel the bubbliness of all the new posts. Just like when you go out and tell yourself one drink and find yourself ordering another, I tell myself one more minute.
Even though I know I shouldn’t like Instagram, I do. I like the bright pictures, seeing people I know, knew, and the glossy landscapes of places I one day hope to go. Just one more minute, I tell myself as the soft aesthetics of posts slips into my mind. Just one more. A sip of wintry greens matched with cream whites, a sip of burnt oranges over sandy tan, a sip of soft yellow and baby blue. I find myself giddy and needing just one more minute.
Wrapping the blankets around me, I realize I don’t just have to scroll Instagram when I have TikTok too. The buzz starts when I switch over and scroll endless miles, watching videos I’ll have no recollection of later. I guzzle influencer’s tips on productivity.I tell myself that yes, I should wake up earlier and strictly take cold showers. My mind spins in circles, twisting into cat videos and then stumbling into fashion hauls. As I gulp down memes, music recommendations, life hacks, I find that my eyes are starting to hurt, but what else do I have going on?
I’m intoxicated with interest. I’m stumbling into murder mysteries and horse videos. As I pour content into my eyes, I feel it bubbling up, making my brain cloudy. Here in bed, time is skipping in bursts and stops. I start considering the time. How did it get so late? I’ll stop after another minute, I tell myself.
I raise the phone to my face and switch videos. I take a pull of Booktok, book lovers’ TikTok. And I get excited about all the endless books. I try to commit titles to memory, but my brain is turned off. I spend so much time excited about books, possibilities, and worlds I can step into. I take a long drag. My eyelids are heavy, yet my mind wants more, and, therefore, I continue looking on.
Then, the tang of guilt rushes over me as I realize how long I’ve spent on my phone and I put it down. A wave of nausea churns in my stomach. And I feel the effects of all that blue light like the aftermath post a long night out. I pull myself up to get ready for bed, my brain spinning. And I fall asleep with the blue ghost of light still reflecting in my eyelids. I don’t dream