There’s a Ghost Under the Damen Brown Line (I’ve Deleted Tik Tok)
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH —
I’ve been musing over this for a couple of weeks. Nothing good comes into my brain from Tik Tok anymore. I keep seeing content that catapults me into a sour mood. It all happens so fast — all the watching and scrolling — that I don’t even realize it’s happening. And then when I feel like a piece of SHIT or I’m having trouble sleeping, I’m like, WHY is this happening?? Oh yeah, I saw an image of Lee the Dog on Tik Tok earlier and it disturbed me to my core (DON’T GOOGLE IT I WARNED YOU). Do I have the problem?? Yes. Do I consent to consuming all this weird internet crap? Yes. But a woman is only as strong as her algorithm. What does mine look like? (Well, let’s see: “unreleased” footage of 9/11; disturbing and gross facts from history — lots of execution content from British history #CatherineParr #AnneBoleyn; the scariest theories known to humans— dark forest hypothesis / the Fermi paradox, solipsism, quantum immortality; “true” ghost stories, unsolved murders, and romantasy book rankings.) These videos haven certainly begun to shape my worldview in a way that is making me easily creeped out and paranoid.
I was walking to the train early on Wednesday morning, around 6:45 am. I usually cut through the parking lot near the Advocate Medical Group building on Ravenswood Ave (it shaves like 1 minute off my 12 minute walk), so I have to walk under the CTA Brown Line tracks near the Damen stop — right where it turns to head West. It’s typically a solitary and uneventful trek. If I see other people on my walk to the train, it’s usually nannies with strollers, joggers, or other commuters. But on Wednesday, when I turned to cut through the parking lot, I looked under the tracks — and I saw him. A man. Tuning a cello. Right underneath the tracks. Alone. At 6:45 in the morning. Um… WTF???
Great, I thought. A ghost. What OTHER explanation could there possibly be??? Okay, I just need to keep walking and leave him alone. He’s just playing his instrument. Maybe he used to ride the Brown Line to Old Town School of Folk Music and he likes to haunt this part of the city. That’s immediately where my mind went — I know, my instincts have been poisoned. I kept walking but I couldn’t help myself and I turned my head around to look at him again — he was still playing. But then I saw he had a friend nearby, leaning over an instrument case. Oh… okay. They’re definitely filming a music video for something. That was way more likely. I mean, it’s a gorgeous / urbanist aesthetic dream place to set up and film. Okay, yeah. So… no ghost under the Damen Brown Line. But, like, CAN you blame me? It was a perfectly reasonable conclusion. (This is a cry for help).
Discomforting content has seeped its way into my dreams… I wake up unsettled. I have trouble falling asleep. This, on top of everything else… I’m sure you’ve also been continuously devastated and horrified by the merciless genocide of Palestinians. I’m sure you’re tired from work. Tired from life. I’m sure you haven’t been sleeping enough either (if you have, I’m happy for you).
Is this life in 2024? Is this dystopia all we will ever have? I’ve got no answers. Anyway, I deleted Tik Tok and I’ve taken to reading poetry before bed. Somehow the short format and the need to quickly turn the page satisfies the same part of my brain that wants to keep scrolling through videos. Once one poem ends, there’s a new one waiting.
RIP Sylvia Plath you would have loved wlw Tik Tok.
