𝗖𝗿𝗮𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗠𝗮𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗲

This pattern we're caught in—scroll, crave, get that dopamine pop, scroll again—is a textbook example of craving. It's the kind of hunger that doesn't end just because you feed it; in fact, feeding it often makes it worse, like trying to quench thirst with saltwater. Each perfect image promises satisfaction, but it fades almost instantly, and we're back at it, looking for the next hit.

𝗨𝗻𝘁𝗼𝘂𝗰𝗵𝗲𝗱 𝗠𝗶𝗻𝗱

Underneath all this, our minds are naturally clear, steady, and even radiant. But this clarity is obscured when we start chasing every shiny thing that promises joy but never fully delivers it. The more we chase, the more tangled up we get in the illusion that something external will finally make us feel whole.

𝗗𝗲𝗲𝗽𝗲𝗿 𝗛𝘂𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿

Perhaps the better question isn't "Why do we look at this stuff?" but "What's the hunger beneath it?" What's that itch we're trying to scratch with every perfectly-lit, impossibly-curved image?

𝗙𝗶𝗻𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗟𝗶𝗯𝗲𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻

What if the real answer isn't in another image, but in slowing down long enough to actually feel that hunger, examine it, and learn how to sit with it instead of always reaching for the next distraction? Chasing fantasy isn't inherently wrong—hell, it's human.

But maybe, just maybe, the real liberation comes when we stop chasing and start listening to the part of us that's still looking, still restless, still yearning. That might be where the real peace starts.