Just like every other person, my entire personality can be assessed through my phone. Among the numerous apps that are there, the one that feels like a warm hug is Pinterest. A deeply personal, and my absolute favorite. I can spend hours on the app without the guilt that comes with doom scrolling. It is like a little world that I have curated for myself.Â
It does not demand, it waits. It is the only app on the internet that doesn’t require me to be loud, productive, or always “on”. It just allows me to be. The best version of myself that I have manifested can be found on Pinterest. It contains study aesthetics that make my life appear much more organized than it actually is, workout programs I’ve never followed, recipes I’ll “try someday,” and room dĂ©cor boards for apartments I don’t yet own. Nevertheless, it never feels overwhelming to scroll through. Posting, responding, liking, and staying up to date are not required. If I am missing for weeks, nobody will care. Like a well-constructed journal, Pinterest simply waits patiently.
Pinterest inspires without being demanding, which is what I adore most about it. It doesn’t yell its thoughts at me or drag me into debates I didn’t agree to. Rather, it subtly serves as a reminder that creativity need not always be fruitful. Sometimes all it takes is picturing a world in which your desk is spotless, and your closet is full of Y2K vintage clothes.
On the other hand, the app, which feels like a slap in the face, is the alarm clock app. We share a love-hate relationship, where I set 100 alarms but feel like throwing my phone across the room when they start ringing from 6 am, up until my roommate yells at me to turn it off. The app has never once brought me any kind of joy in my life. I voluntarily set it, which worsens the situation. I promise myself every night that I will get up early and be productive the next day. And that lie is revealed by the alarm clock each morning. Snooze buttons, silent bitterness, and broken promises form the foundation of my relationship with it.
It snaps me back into reality. While I am glad it puts an end to my bed rotting and forces me to be a functioning member of society, it comes with aggression, snapping me back into reality. How can I expect my morning to start off well when I am greeted with the buzzing of my alarm clock?Â
It is an app that is all about urgency. Context is irrelevant to it. It doesn’t bargain. It serves only as a reminder that time is passing more quickly than I can keep up with. Additionally, the alarm clock has an odd way of condensing all of life’s commitments into a single sound. I’m not just waking up in those initial moments after it goes off; I’m also recalling incomplete tasks, impending tests, unanswered messages, and decisions I’ve been putting off. My whole to-do list can’t be crammed into a single panicked moment by any other app. Every nap seems like a tiny wrongdoing. Mornings become a struggle between comfort and intention.Â
It might not be the most glamorous app on my phone, but it keeps me grounded. It has become my least favorite because it is unavoidable; it reminds me that the day must start no matter what. While Pinterest lets me dream, the alarm clock app nudges me back to reality. While both apps are polar opposites, they help in creating a balance in my life. One helps me slow down while the other pushes me to get to work. Both help in reflecting who I am.