Loneliness in public is still loneliness.
Write. Laugh. Hope.
You weren’t avoiding people.
You were trying to feel less alone with them.
One scroll, one swipe, one more “like”
from a stranger you’ll never meet,
in a feed that knows what you want before you do—
but never what you need.
Because social media is a masquerade ball
for the emotionally starving.
Everyone is showing, no one is sharing.
Everyone is posting, no one is present.
Everyone is “connected,”
but connection isn’t a Wi-Fi signal.
It’s not being seen.
It’s being known.
And that can’t be filtered, edited, hashtagged, or monetized.
You’re not broken for craving it.
You’re just human.
And the ache in your chest while watching Stories?
That’s not weakness.
That’s your nervous system screaming:
“I need something real.”
But we’re conditioned to mistake stimulation for intimacy.
To think more is the same as closer.
To mistake dopamine spikes for emotional safety.
So we scroll.
And scroll.
And scroll—
through highlight reels, trauma dumps, and fake affirmations
until our thumbs are sore and our souls are quieter than ever.
Write. Laugh. Hope.
Because healing might start with unplugging—
but it ends with being truly held.
