DAYS SINCE TV BAN: 4

TELEVISION WATCHED: 0 hrs

Today, my brain filled the empty, unplugged hours of no TV or phone games with sensory memory scenes. And so did Google. I was downloading a picture for work, and Google suggested I watch some photo reels its AI had created for me. The reels were titled things like “catalog of cats” or “with the crew” (which turned out to be a real decontextualized mashup). Upon viewing a few, I had two thoughts: first, does watching Google-suggested reels of my own photos count as TV? And second, is it possible to get FOMO from parts of your own life?

The memories that were arising felt more poignant and alive than the day I was having. Instead of Zoom meetings and my kitchen, I travelled back to a salty bay of mangroves during the dry heat of Sydney summertime. I walked day drunk in Daegu, South Korea with my friend shortly after he was diagnosed with cancer. I slumped in the seats of a lecture hall during my Masters of Teaching course, and heard my friend Lauren recounting the time she waited alone on a hill for hours one night in the wilds of Venezuela for a helicopter to come back for her.

I imagined writing a pile of letters to people I had known and still think about, as if I were grieving. Grieving for what, though? Lost time?

Is this what a brain does when it lacks electronic stimulus? Entertain itself with memories? Or have these memories been happening the entire time, and I’ve been ignoring them by spending my lunchtimes delivering digital leeks to the good people of Pelican town on my iphone?

I have my suspicions, but for now I’ll just keep watching. Myself, that is, not the most recent episode of ‘The Summer I Turned Pretty.’ Which I’m sure is like, totally reaching a new peak of “will they, won’t they” suspense.

Who does she end up with, anyway?

And where will I?