I don't think you'll stumble into anyone here that has the formula of internet independence.
If I had to guess as to why I still roam, it's probably because…>Sometimes people don’t want to hear the truth because they don’t want their illusions destroyed.
If I stop, I have to confront the reality around me. A reality that doesn't change, doesn't reward, has no promising future. The internet gives me an illusion that reality _does_ change, but it doesn't. It gives me the illusion that I will be rewarded, since I just maybe will stumble into some wisdom that'll change everything (which it won't). Maybe I will catch wind that the world is collapsing finally.
But if I stop, well, I would have to confront the fact that I don't have any tangible answer for relationships, for my world, for people around me, to talk, to make money, what money is for, what my life is for - there is no common thread in general, by my volition. There is no coherency to this reality. Nothing makes sense at all, beyond just trying to enjoy the days that pass.
I don't have a tangible answer for my job, to slack off or not, to have a job, to have a job one despises, to bother having a job at all, to hope to quit instead of be distracted and procrastinating, is having a job even possible to enjoy, would trying hard at my job be rewarding me at all (probably not), what are the rewards or why are they rewards anyway, why do I live. There's nothing to say, nor to fix, as to fix it, would be equally pointless, as the structure around us is… well, no point. You see, I tried to find coherency in it, and am afraid that my answer requires me to quit. To change. (Which I think it does require such things)
To stop internet addiction would be to confront the inevitable spiral of incoherence that dots, at least, my existence.
No, I come online to delay everything until somehow, magically, things will change around me.
And the unfortunate circumstances around our time is that something MAY magically change, due to the instability that I'm sure I don't have to repeat for others.
And yet… will it? It gnaws and pulls apart my illusion, it makes me uncomfortable. The silence of not seeing the outside, waiting for it to move. The fact that change is molasses and may not occur, or if it does, I am still in the same position. Or why do I hope for change anyway when the coffin awaits? Why so demanding?
So I don't know.
Factually I can acknowledge that sitting on any place online, delaying my tasks at my job until it prickles me too, and so on - do I acknowledge that, fundamentally, all of this adds to my misery.
But when I confront this, there is a deeper wound to stitch underneath.
I just don't think about it, stop the neurotic circuit before it completes, as we all do, as we sedate, continue to sedate, take your pills
Internet addiction: to unravel this is to unravel the core of today's world, or at least my world.
That there is something profoundly sick I do not want to acknowledge.
So I wait. But my patience wanes, and frankly I am becoming all too keenly aware that I am losing it.
Yet when I forget all of this, I can assure you, life is great for those that pay attention to the details.
To test one's gratitude rather than pray for circumstance to change.
So I just wait. Since nothing makes sense other than to be grateful for what you have. Maybe it'll make more sense - or when it all makes too much sense, you'll feel a despair at discovering why everything is incoherent, you will feel powerless to change such things. Which I had a peak at, and would rather not peak again.
Fundamentally every word I write is suspended above a descent into hell and I'm waiting for it, preparing, just as we wait for salvation.