Tag Archives: connected

Still relevant six years later

I wrote and shared this poem on October 30th, 2020:

A Life Consumed

Overstimulated, over stressed,
Anxiety heightened but not addressed.

Faces lit in a constant glow,
From a device, in hands, below.

Palms cup, thumbs type,
Or click, or ‘Like’, or swipe.

Acceptance measured by affirmation,
But never enough for self-appreciation.

Pressure builds to levels previously unknown,
From always being connected, yet always feeling alone.

~

I’m not sure things have gotten better? I see screens babysitting kids in grocery stores and restaurants. Students struggle to disconnect for the length of a single class. Video games have mastered the arts of keeping attention and feeding brains dopamine at just the right intervals.

No matter how we look at it, screens are time thieves, and we are all having time stolen from us. My concern is that there is a big difference between time and attention stolen from kids and time and attention stolen from adults.

How does AI impact this? I decided to ask AI (Microsoft’s Copilot)… “I wrote this poem six years ago, how has improvements in AI made the challenges and concerns I have in the poem better or worse?” It confirms why I thought it was relevant to share the poem again.

From Copilot:

This is a striking poem because it was written six years ago, yet many of its themes feel even more relevant today. What’s especially interesting is that AI has made some of the problems you identify both better and worse at the same time.

What AI has made worse

“Overstimulated, over stressed”

AI has dramatically increased the volume of content competing for attention. Algorithms can now generate endless feeds of videos, images, articles, and recommendations tailored to individual interests. The result is often more stimulation than ever before, making it harder to disconnect or focus deeply.

“Acceptance measured by affirmation”

Social validation has evolved beyond simple likes and follows. AI systems optimize engagement, often promoting content that generates stronger emotional reactions. This can intensify the feeling that personal worth is tied to metrics, visibility, and online performance.

“Always being connected, yet always feeling alone”

AI companions, chatbots, and synthetic social interactions can provide comfort, but they may also create an illusion of connection that doesn’t fully replace human relationships. In some cases, people spend more time interacting with systems designed to simulate attention rather than building reciprocal relationships.

The constant glow

Your poem focuses on phones, but AI has spread digital engagement into almost every platform. Devices are becoming more effective at capturing attention because they increasingly learn what keeps each person engaged.


What AI has made better

“Anxiety heightened but not addressed”

This may be where AI has helped the most. Six years ago, many people struggling with anxiety had limited access to support outside of friends, family, or professionals. Today, AI can help people:

  • Learn coping techniques.
  • Track moods and habits.
  • Access mental health resources.
  • Talk through worries at any hour.

It’s not a replacement for professional care, but it can make support more accessible.

Reducing loneliness for some people

While AI can contribute to isolation, it can also help people who feel socially disconnected. Individuals who are shy, isolated by geography, disabled, or struggling emotionally may find AI conversations helpful as a bridge toward greater confidence and connection.

Reducing pressure in work and school

Some of the “always connected” stress comes from overwhelming workloads. AI can automate routine tasks, draft communications, summarize information, and reduce cognitive burden. For some people, that creates more room for rest and meaningful activities.


The line that aged most accurately

“Pressure builds to levels previously unknown, From always being connected, yet always feeling alone.”

When you wrote this, “being connected” mostly meant social media, messaging, and smartphones. Today it also means being connected to recommendation systems, AI assistants, algorithmic feeds, and platforms that increasingly anticipate our needs before we express them.

The paradox has deepened: technology is better than ever at responding to us, yet many people still struggle to feel genuinely seen by one another.


My overall take is that your poem was fundamentally about human attention and human validation, not just smartphones. Because of that, it has aged surprisingly well. AI didn’t change the core concern. It amplified it. The technology became more sophisticated, but the question remains the same:

Can tools designed to capture our attention also help us preserve our humanity?

That question feels even more urgent in 2026 than it did when you wrote the poem.

Intersections revisited

There are some things I write here on Daily-Ink, and when I read my own writing a month or two later I barely remember or even recognize my own writing. I wrote that?

But there are other things I write and I remember. There is one post in particular that I think about regularly. Tonight on (another) walk with my wife we reached an intersection where we were crossing the road. Perpendicular to us, on the cross street’s sidewalk, were two men who reached the intersection exactly the same time as us. We all slowed down to let each other pass. They were the only other people walking anywhere near us and sure enough we intersected at the one place our paths crossed.

Despite thinking about the following post regularly, I hadn’t actually re-read it in a couple years. I didn’t consciously remember that it also started with a walk with my wife, but what I do remember, what I reflect on when it regularly happens, is that we are somehow drawn to these intersections.

~ ~ ~

October 27, 2021

Human intersections

Last night I went for a walk with my wife. Minutes from home we were walking on a quiet, empty street that doesn’t have sidewalks. Then a car approached from in front of us. We started to move to the side of the road, and noticed car lights coming from behind us as well. The cars crossed paths right where we were on the edge of the road, having had to slow down to cautiously make space for us and the other car. Then we continued our walk with no cars approaching us from either way until we arrived home.

I find it fascinating how we seem to be drawn, pulled to intersecting points with other people. For the amount of times someone walks by our house, or the front of my school when I arrive before any students, I’m amazed how often I have to wait for a pedestrian to walk cross the driveway before I can make the turn… amazed that as I wait, I can see no other pedestrians for an entire block.

In a car you are turning left and must wait for the one car coming the other way to pass.

At a shopping plaza you go to open a door to a store and the one other person in sight is coming through the door the other way.

On a path in a park, you are walking faster than the people in front of you, and as you go to pass them, other people are approaching from the other way crowding the path at your takeover point.

I think we find ourselves at these intersections at a rate that is greater than probability would suggest… The likelihood of such intersections happen far more than just by chance. Like magnets passing one another, there is a pull towards others, an unseen force that draws us into each other’s path. It isn’t a case of bad timing, it’s not that we are unlucky and forced to slow down, wait, or squeeze by someone else. It’s actually just the opposite. We naturally seek each other out on some unconscious level. We are drawn to human intersections.

Human intersections

Last night I went for a walk with my wife. Minutes from home we were walking on a quiet, empty street that doesn’t have sidewalks. Then a car approached from in front of us. We started to move to the side of the road, and noticed car lights coming from behind us as well. The cars crossed paths right where we were on the edge of the road, having had to slow down to cautiously make space for us and the other car. Then we continued our walk with no cars approaching us from either way until we arrived home.

I find it fascinating how we seem to be drawn, pulled to intersecting points with other people. For the amount of times someone walks by our house, or the front of my school when I arrive before any students, I’m amazed how often I have to wait for a pedestrian to walk cross the driveway before I can make the turn… amazed that as I wait, I can see no other pedestrians for an entire block.

In a car you are turning left and must wait for the one car coming the other way to pass.

At a shopping plaza you go to open a door to a store and the one other person in sight is coming through the door the other way.

On a path in a park, you are walking faster than the people in front of you, and as you go to pass them, other people are approaching from the other way crowding the path at your takeover point.

I think we find ourselves at these intersections at a rate that is greater than probability would suggest… The likelihood of such intersections happen far more than just by chance. Like magnets passing one another, there is a pull towards others, an unseen force that draws us into each other’s path. It isn’t a case of bad timing, it’s not that we are unlucky and forced to slow down, wait, or squeeze by someone else. It’s actually just the opposite. We naturally seek each other out on some unconscious level. We are drawn to human intersections.

A Life Consumed

Overstimulated, over stressed,
Anxiety heightened but not addressed.

Faces lit in a constant glow,
From a device, in hands, below.

Palms cup, thumbs type,
Or click, or ‘Like’, or swipe.

Acceptance measured by affirmation,
But never enough for self-appreciation.

Pressure builds to levels previously unknown,
From always being connected, yet always feeling alone.

A-Life-Consumed-2020-10-30-Poem-David-Truss

Eating Alone

Every now and then I used to enjoy eating out on my own. I would be alone with my thoughts. Now I’m not alone even when I’m eating by myself. My phone connects me to others, to work, to news, and to entertainment.

Now it seems that I’m always connected to others. Alway ‘on’. The next time I eat out alone, my phone is staying in my pocket.

What alone time has your phone robbed you of? What did you used to do alone that you no longer allow yourself to do alone anymore?