30 Days Of Night



It is no secret that our dependency on technology has killed the purest form of communication, which are the exchanges that we make face-to-face. We witness this on a daily basis whether it is through our professional careers or with who we take to bed.

For me, a big part of this addiction has been Grindr, a sex app that I have always had a love/hate relationship with and probably always will. I’ve met great friends through the app, established what will hopefully be lifelong connections and had more fun than I could possibly count, but even amidst the good times, I have always found the app extremely disappointing. From the broken promises of potential meetings to the skillful games of catfish that make you question why you even give energy to a fool’s game, I have come to realize the importance of taking breaks.

A break to decompress. A break to put things into perspective. A break to restore some of your faith in the human race. A break to realize you are so much more than the loads you shoot into some random guy at two o’clock in the morning to satisfy your sexual desires.

So in June, for a full 30 days, I took a break from Grindr, Scruff and all of the sex apps that seek to feed you with instant gratification and put that focus into building other areas that I have been neglecting in my quest to get off. Whether it was checking on friends more, catching up on that show that I watched the first two episodes of and then abandoned, or simply relaxing in bed with a good book, they were all things that I was doing for me and not with the intent of finding warmth in another body.

With that being said, I don’t want to paint a false narrative and say that I didn’t miss the pleasures that come with partaking in those applications, because I did. In fact, at the start of this challenge, I have never felt more sexually frustrated, but the reward of resisting the temptation to sign on and exerting my will power proved that whether we choose to embrace the thriving sex culture of hookups or run away from it, the days of good old fashion bar conversations that lead to fun are becoming more infrequent.

It speaks volumes about where we are headed and sadly we are losing our way as the art of communication dies right before our eyes. We are focused on planting our seed in holes instead of in the brain, and that is a recipe for disaster as the latter stimulates the mind in ways that are present long after the initial encounter and the former ends up in the stool.

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