Your social media knows you better than your therapist. It sees you clicked that “Passed Away Today” article. Now it owns your sadness data.
You’ll get more of the same. Your algorithm becomes a funeral director. It curates a feed of obituaries like a mixtape for the deceased.
It’s weirdly comforting. You’re not just mourning one person. You’re part of a digital wake for the entire day’s list.
Why We Can’t Look Away
It’s a guilt-free dopamine hit. You feel sadness, but it’s secondhand. You didn’t know them. You’re just a voyeur at the parade.
There’s also the relief. You think: “It’s not me. It’s not my family. Thank god.” It’s a dark, primal check-in with mortality, but from a safe distance.
And let’s be honest: the comments section is a goldmine. You get the heartfelt poems, the angry fans, and the one person who says, “I met him at a Denny’s in 1998. He was rude.” Chaos.
