RIP attention span, a eulogy
I watched TikTok for 3 hours straight and retained nothing.
Future friends and strangers on the internet,
We gather here today to celebrate my attention span. It was more than a cognitive process; it was a beacon of light in my otherwise unremarkable existence. A source of pride. An invaluable weapon I employed to navigate our increasingly chaotic world.
My attention span was all I needed to reach my goals. In the olden days, it gave me the power to read an entire textbook page (footnotes included!) before I felt the need to stare at the wall. Fiction books? I could devour chapters at a time without looking up. Sorcery.
(I believe researchers used to call this “flow” but don’t quote me on it. My memory is *this close* to following my attention to an early grave.)
Back in the day, I didn’t need to regularly switch from the big screen to the small screen during a movie. A high-intensity car chase or sappy love declaration was stimulating enough. Simply staring at the big screen was relaxing, recharging, a bona fide treat. It didn’t even matter much what was playing.
TV shows didn’t run in the void background while I looked up answers to dumb questions my brain concocted out of nowhere because it now works overtime for no pay. (Is this shoulder pain due to poor posture or am I dying? Ask again later.) TV captured my focus to the point where I barely wanted to press pause to go pee.
I will always remember the warm and fuzzy feeling I had when I became lost in a task for hours on end. I felt productive. I felt like I was accomplishing something. I felt unstoppable. Becoming immersed in crafting an article or nailing a client project was a high I chase to this very day. My ability to pay attention was inspiring, highlighting the beauty of pursuing activities I loved.
You know what other old-fashioned activity I used to frequently indulge in? Daydreaming. Now I reach for my phone as soon as rambling thoughts rush into my mind, to numb them away. I hate it.
Though it may no longer be with us, remembering my past ability to focus still sends jolts of electricity through my rotting meat suit. I believed I needed to find comfort in knowing that it rests in peace, free from judgment and pressure.
Alas, I have made the bold decision to revive it. Or at least try.
Rather than carry forward the lessons my attention taught me over the years, I am reclaiming my focus. So, I’m starting this newsletter, I guess. Sitting still long enough to put words out in the world for people who want to read them should technically be a step in the right direction.
Hi! I’m Alexandra, a content writer based in Romania. I previously wrote for Ranker, Compare TV, Finder, Indeapod, and Hack Spirit, among others. I miss writing for myself, so here we are. I like to walk, preferably in the rain. I’m into books, with a slight preference for thrillers.
Two truths and a lie1:
I hope to write a book myself one day. It’s in its early stages and has vampires.
I’m not sure what I’ll ramble on here about but I’m guessing some combo of book recommendations, pop culture pieces, and personal
cries for helpessays.I’ve seen the first five seasons of Supernatural four times.
Welcome.
Oh, this is a eulogy. I got distracted.
RIP attention span/ I long to get it back/ Before I need a bedpan/ And stop being a snack.
In lieu of flowers, please feel free to subscribe. I have no idea how Substack works. That never stopped me before.
Thanks!
The lie was number 3. I’ve seen the first five seasons of Supernatural at least five times.
- The early seasons were the best.
- People who read you are interested and do care if you show up. Surprisingly, people do notice if you aren't around, at least in the short term, and they have no way of knowing where you are irl, so it's hard to knock on the door in the long term.
- Write what you want, when you want. Your words are your gift to those around you; you should feel no pressure to perform.
- And where did our attention spans go?
Make them poisonous vampires. Not the ordinary, fly-by-night kind.