It’s 11 pm.

You’re not going out. You may leave your room. But, not the house.

The farthest you’ll travel tonight is the distance from the fridge, to the bathroom, back to the fridge, ending on the couch.

Your phone never leaves your side. Not a sidekick. A sidekick makes your life better.

Your phone is a helicopter parent.

“Did you forget to check if you’re Instagram photo has any more likes? You’re at four hearts darling, don’t you want love?”

Notifications are clouds.

They’re always above you, floating overhead like an executioner waiting to pass sentence while you gaze from the guillotine.

Notifications are black and white. Sometimes, the cloud unleashes a torrential storm washing away your confidence along with your home, when your girlfriend of three years changes her status to single.

Notifications are good too.

But, even good notifications suck.

Feeling good isn’t the goal. Avoiding pain isn’t either.

Your goal cannot be feeling good.

Most of what you do to get what you want, is difficult, like untangling the knots of your favorite earbuds you sent through the washer & Dryer.

We want tranquility.

To be, as Shakespeare said.

Not to be, doesn’t exist.

You’re here. In this moment right now. Not on the news, not wherever the mass shooting is, but sitting underneath a tree in a wide open meadow. You’re safe here.

The news doesn’t want you to think you’re safe.

The media needs you to need them.

So, everything is a war.

The war on carbs.

The war on bullying.

The war of black Friday.

Notifications pull us out of tranquility. Notifications are like emotions.

They pop up, and disappear, but, there are too many notifications, and no one lets go of their emotions.

Your phone is a distraction.

Worse, your phone makes you lonely.

Lifehack: Stop looking at women you don’t know

instagram girls.

You know the ones.

Standing before a mirror, neck turned, ready to break to get the perfect angle, ass shaped like a moon reaching for the sky it fell from.

Looking at girls you’ll never meet makes you lonely.

Instagram girls aren’t real either.

They’re promoting.

Instagram girls want you to want them.

Their self-esteem wholly depends on depressed men laying in bed, six-pack on the nightstand, who like every new photo in hopes he, out of many thousands, is given a little attention.

What you give energy to. That’s what matters.

If you give your energy to something valuable, learning a new skill, you’re rewarded.

Your habits reinforce your self-image.

It’s easy to be confident when you wake up early, work out, write, brush your teeth, all before the sun comes up.

It’s hard to be confident masturbating every night with the fury of Ghengis Khan.

It’s hard to be satisfied when play comes before responsibility.

It’s hard to be happy following inspirational Instagram pages of people doing everything you want while you smoke weed and play Xbox alone.

Stop following women you’ll never meet.

Be in the moment. Own your tranquility. Exist in your world. The internet is a tool, not a community.

The internet is a lie.

Your world is the reality.

The internet is makeup for an ugly population.

The world shows your blemishes. #nofilters.

Feed your positive habits. Remember, self-fulfillment through accomplishment.