Big Casinos, Little Pockets
TikTok felt like a casino for my attention. Endless lights. No sense of time. Somehow, I always walked away with less than I came in with.
I never meant to become a regular. It was just a quick distraction, just a few swipes, one more video. But TikTok doesn’t care about “just one more.” It keeps the doors open 24/7, and every swipe is a coin dropped into the machine. I’d look up from my phone and wonder where the last hour went. Most of the time, I’d wonder what I even saw. I was losing time and getting nothing in return but the lingering buzz of overstimulation and maybe some guy shouting a recipe at me with scary enthusiasm.
And this isn’t just about TikTok. It’s Instagram, YouTube, Facebook, anywhere you get your fix. They all come dressed differently, but the house is built the same. We're not the customers. We're the product. And the casino always wins.
The System Is Designed to Keep You Hooked
You know this already, but let me say it anyway: your phone is not neutral. The apps on it are designed to hold you hostage. This is how million-dollar companies become worth billions. This is how millions of people put food on the table. Making sure you are hooked is their priority.
Infinite scroll. Autoplay. Notifications timed just right to break your concentration. These aren’t accidental features. They’re carefully engineered attention traps. What casinos figured out with slot machines (quick rewards, bright lights, unpredictable outcomes), tech companies perfected for your pocket.
They make you feel like you're in control, but you're not. You're just swiping. Consuming. Giving away your most valuable resource, your attention, for free.
“If you're an app, how do you keep people hooked? Turn yourself into a slot machine.”
― Tristan Harris, former Google design ethicist
The Price Is Higher Than We Think
What’s the cost of all that scrolling? Time, obviously. I’ve spent entire evenings in a weird semi-trance, watching video after video, only to feel more drained than before I started. Not relaxed. Not entertained. Just... numb.
But it’s more than time. It’s peace. Creativity. Focus. I started to notice how hard it was to sit still with my own thoughts. How rarely I reached for a book instead of my phone. How background noise became my default state; podcasts while cleaning, videos while eating, music while walking, always something to fill the silence.
And when there’s always noise, it’s hard to hear your own thoughts. Or the car honking to get out of the way. Or anything that matters.
Reclaiming My Attention
So I’ve been trying to step outside the casino. I’m not burning it down just yet; I’m just trying to step outside a little more often.
I deleted TikTok (as well as Instagram, Facebook, and all those other casino corporations). I turned my phone grayscale. I try (and fail, but try again) to leave my phone in another room while I eat. I leave my phone in the kitchen overnight; I even use one of those analog alarm clocks. I carry a book with me instead of my phone sometimes. None of it is revolutionary. But it's enough to remind me that the world won’t end if I don’t know what’s trending.
It’s funny: the more I step away, the more I notice how much my attention was being drained and how much I enjoy what was being taken. Giving someone your full attention is one of the rarest gifts now. So I want to learn how to give it again. To books. To people. To myself. To silence.
Less Flash. More Focus.
I still feel the pull. The slot machine is always whispering: Come back. Just one more swipe. But I know now that the lights lie. The prizes aren’t real. And the longer I stay, the less of myself I recognize when I walk away.
So I’m trying to choose slowness. Stillness. Things that don’t vanish when I close the app.
Because honestly, I want to spend my life on things that are real. Not just flashy.
What’s Giving Me Hope
I’ll be honest, I was really dreading writing this week. Finding One Thing That Gives Me Hope started to feel like a chore. A job. Work. And this was never supposed to be work. This space was meant to be where I let the raw emotions out and got a little peace in return. But lately, I’ve been stressing over whether the story is big enough, whether the hope feels hopeful enough.
So I’m making an executive decision.
No more big stories. Just a handful of small, stubborn joys that refused to be ignored this week.
“I think I understood a long time ago that big joy and small joy are the same. It sounds trite, but it’s true.”
― Laura Steven, Our Infinite Fates
Little Joys:
Just One Photo
I was trying to be present with my family. I really was. I even left my phone in my pocket. But I still had my camera. I bring it on walks, just in case something catches my eye.
And something always does.
We were walking through this perfectly manicured park. Everything was trimmed, clean, intentional. But then I saw this little guy; this little lone weed, growing defiantly between the roots, in a place it probably wasn’t supposed to be. And somehow, it had stayed.
It wasn’t the moment I was trying to have. But maybe it was the one I was meant to experience.
One Last Thing
Thank you for reading. Really.
Writing this felt a little like standing in a room and making confessions. So if you made it to the end, thanks for letting me say my inside thoughts out loud.
I don’t have it all together. I still open Instagram in my browser like a gremlin trying to bypass my own limits. I still feel the pull to check, to scroll, to see what I might be missing. My phone still sneaks into my bed more often than I’d like to admit.
But I’m trying.
Trying to choose better things. Quieter things. Things that don’t make me feel like I’ve lost something when I’m done.
So thanks for being here. Thanks for caring about these thoughts. And thanks for reminding me that it’s worth it to keep trying.