Filmed, Photographed, Reviewed, Liked, Shared

Social media used to be a place where people shared photos of their lunch and argued about whether pineapple belonged on pizza.

Now it’s a full-time psychological experiment.

Every second video starts with someone telling me they’ve discovered a secret doctor don’t want me to know. Apparently, doctors don’t want me to know anything. They don’t want me to know how to lose weight, grow hair, reverse ageing, improve my eyesight, clean my oven or communicate telepathically with my dog.

Then there are the influencers.

One woman tells me she became a millionaire by waking up at 4am and drinking lemon water. Another claims she retired at twenty-seven after discovering passive income. Meanwhile I’m fairly certain most of them are earning money by teaching other people how to earn money by teaching other people how to earn money.

It’s like a pyramid scheme wrapped in a ring light.

Everyone is an expert now.

A bloke who failed Year 10 is explaining geopolitics, not that that bothers me so much. Some people who have brains don't do well in the school system. A woman who bought a jade roller yesterday is suddenly a medical specialist. Someone who owns two rental properties is teaching financial literacy. And all of them are speaking with the confidence of people who personally invented electricity.

The advertisements are even worse. “This one simple trick melts fat while you sleep.” Fantastic. If that worked, Australia would be a nation of supermodels lying unconscious on couches.

Then there are the videos where someone cleans an already spotless house while dramatic music plays in the background. Look at me putting away three coffee mugs.

You’re not a domestic goddess, Karen. You’re loading a frigging dishwasher!

The strangest thing is how seriously everyone takes it. People have friendships, relationships and complete emotional breakdowns over comments made by strangers whose profile picture is a cartoon frog wearing sunglasses. We’ve somehow convinced ourselves that likes equal approval, followers' equal friendship and viral fame equals success.

It doesn’t. Most of it disappears tomorrow and nobody remembers a thing.

The internet promised to connect humanity. Instead, it turned us into unpaid actors in our own reality show, desperately refreshing our phones to see whether strangers approve of what we had for lunch.

The real world is still out there.

The sun still rises.

Coffee still tastes good.

Friends still laugh.

And none of them require a hashtag.

Sometimes I think the healthiest thing you can do is put your phone down, walk outside and remember that not everything needs to be filmed, photographed, reviewed, ranked, liked, shared and monetised.

Some things can simply happen.

What a radical idea.