The TV was the thought cancellation device for our parents' generation. The internet is ours. The first time my house got a desktop computer I was 11. But we didn’t get an internet connection until much later. Whenever I had to research projects I went to a friend's house. Her computer was placed in the living room where everyone could see the screen - a kind of protection by parents on what one could browse.

I remember the day I saw the google homepage with colourful letters like a teenager’s school project. Before the internet, all projects needed you to sit in a physical library and look for information. The switch to just typing something in a search box seemed life changing. I would find excuses to go to my friend’s house and browse the internet. Today, I would pay someone good money to get me off it.

As soon as an uncomfortable thought comes up, I reach for my phone. When I cannot sleep because my mind won’t quiet down, shining bright light into my eyes is a sedative. Every time I am stuck on a real world problem, I can always mimic movement by scrolling a feed. Or googling a topic. Watch videos and read articles about how to do a thing while not doing the thing. Youtube “Stephen king on writing” after staring at an empty doc for a while.

The internet hugs you, keeps you warm. It is available, interesting and reads your mind. Much more than most partners. My search bar is a litany of science rabbit holes, fashion doubts and mundane questions. A man asked google how to bury a body. And in such a situation, I would have to turn to google too. Who else would know? Who else is non judgemental and allows weird, revealing, disturbing questions?

But sometimes, I wonder where all the time is going, why I know obscure things about obscure people and why just two lines of a song plays in my head all day. The cuddle of moving feeds is false. Googling something is not doing it. Looking for inspiration is not ultimately work. In the journey to inform, be thorough, exhaustive, I can cross the line from thoughtful to lazy. Practise a new kind of procrastination. Of data collection and chronic contemplation. Letting the knowledge at my feet make it impossible to move forward.