How My Phone Gives Me a Strange Sense of Agency

         Friend: Can I see your phone?

         Me *looking up from tumblr, instantly panicked*: What? Why?

Friend *confused*: Because mines dead and I need to call my mom? Are you alright? What, are you hiding something?

No, I am not hiding anything, at least not in the traditional sense. There are no nude pictures on my phone, no incriminating selfies of me at crime scenes. What there is, among pictures of my friends, family, and face, is an embarrassingly disjointed collection of images of dogs, tattoos, and lipstick swatches taken from the internet. If anyone ever got access to my photo library, I image the conversation going something like:

Friend: Oh, this dog is so cute. What’s his name?

Me: I don’t know. I saved that picture off of tumblr because I think the dog is cute and I want to look at it when I feel sad.

Friend: *Attempts to sneakily delete their number from my phone*

I could use my writing as an excuse, say that I need to save these images for inspiration in my work. But let’s be honest, is this smiling puppy going to contribute anything to my artistic pursuits?

No. Looking its goofy face just makes me happy and there’s no deeper reasoning for it. I had to save this picture because I don’t want to find myself thinking, “Wow, remember that one puppy, that was so cute” and have to dig through the internet to find it again.

My phone, despite only being a few months old, has probably already spent 50% of its data on pictures like this. I have a bit of a clutter problem.*

I hold onto objects, whether tangible or abstract, for fear of the absence of them. This leads me to scatter stray catalogues and photographs across my desk, to tuck letters into drawers for safekeeping. I have no explicit use for these bits and pieces, but I don’t want to get rid of them either. Every time I skype with my parents, they comment on the amount of loose stuff visible from their small window. I feel shame about it, but never enough to actually clean up.

Clutter is a lot easier to manage on my phone. My photographs are tucked away in their app until I want to see them. When I do eventually have to clean out (because my data has been completely consumed by inspirational quotes and photos of pugs), disposal is as easy as clicking on the trash icon.

In this, my phone gives me a strange sense of agency, to save what I like just because I like it, with little consequence. I don’t have to justify saving anything and everything. My phone can become a digital collection of my random bits of humor and aesthetic. It’s an abstract, creative space, a room of one’s own, if you will. I think a lot of technology has that personal capability, which is maybe why people love their smart phones and laptops so much.

Or maybe I’m spewing privileged nonsense about a bunch of puppy pictures.

Anyway, enjoy this tour through my photos/subconscious:

Nightvale being it’s usual, creepily profound self.

Apparently this picture of Scarlet Johannson was really important to me at one time. Idk she’s just so pretty.

Let’s be honest, this is definitely going to come in handy one day.

Who knew dragonfly wings were so pretty?

I really like this quote because it says a lot of the value of wanting to be with someone rather than needing to be with someone, and generally the need for a degree of independence in relationships.

LOOK AT ITS TINY HAT AND ITS LITTLE TONGUE. OH MY GOD.

*I avoid the word “hoarder” because hoarding is a compulsive habit associated with mental illness and our society throws such a serious term around too casually. Okay, return to your regularly scheduled scrolling.