I made a crippling error today.
After reminding myself multiple times while hurrying around and getting ready for uni, after having made this mistake before and seemingly not learning from it, after two months of being a university student and knowing better that I really do require them, I forgot my headphones. Again.
After the initial rage and disappointment directed at my life decisions passed, I rested music-lessly with my head on the train window.
And it was in that moment that I noticed the most peculiar thing.
I looked up and made fleeting eye contact with the teenager in front of me, and realised that we were the only two people in our carriage who had looked each other in the eye.
Everybody else who was packed like sardines in our carriage was glued to their phone, iPad, ebook reader, iPod, or some form of a screen that illuminated their face with that telltale bluish glow.
Even the elderly were actively tapping the keypad of their flip-phones, texting whom? I’ll never know.
I stared around aghast, but more than that, intrigued.
What were they doing? Who were they talking to? What applications were they avidly engulfed in?
And I wondered how strange we must seem to those from third world countries who don’t share the same digital culture that we do. I mean, here we are with a screen in our palms and wires plugged into our ears, being mindlessly dominated by this device and foolishly thinking that we are in control.
I know what it’s like. I’ll log onto Facebook and read a thoughtlessly racist or homophobic or just generally ignorant status and my day will be instantly ruined.
Social media is a buzzkill, there’s no denying it. Because we’d all rather be in Waikiki where that model from Instagram is, or eating that burger that your coworker just tweeted about, or driving that new BMW that your uncle who ‘poked’ you until his friend request was accepted just posted about on Facebook.
And still we make the conscious decision to expose ourselves to such dispiriting activities that involve mindlessly scrolling through the lives of our own personal ‘followings’.
So why do we do it? For the ego boost that getting 11 likes on Instagram for your most recent ‘selfie’ gives you? For the gratification of knowing that there is someone, anyone out there, who cares enough about your chicken parmigiana to double tap it?
This philosophical debate is brought to you by my headphones, who couldn’t make it today because I possess poor organisational skills.