In a TikTok State of Mind
TikTok is quarantine-tastic, but does it have a place in my “normal” life?
Does TikTok depend on excess time, compressed space, and absurd thinking? For me, yes. All we have is our homes and what we can do with them right now. Coronavirus helped TikTok find (temporary, I hope) product market fit with me.
Me.
Every day at about 6:30pm during shelter-in-place, I find myself not quite ready to settle down for Netflix, but needing some way to decompress after working all day in that very same room. It’s TikTok time. I have one friend on TikTok, and that’s fine. I’m there for the weird strangers in extremely familiar-to-me-now situations (stuck at home like a teenager without a driver’s license). This gives me a sense of togetherness, ironically, to see other people in stuck inside with cabin fever. We’re all at home, together, looking for a laugh, and it’s endlessly fun to see how people get creative given the constraints around them.
Every day at about 6:30pm during shelter-in-place, I find myself not quite ready to settle down for Netflix, but needing some way to decompress after working all day in that very same room. It’s TikTok time. I have one friend on TikTok, and that’s fine. I’m there for the weird strangers in extremely familiar-to-me-now situations (stuck at home like a teenager without a driver’s license). This gives me a sense of togetherness, ironically, to see other people in stuck inside with cabin fever. We’re all at home, together, looking for a laugh, and it’s endlessly fun to see how people get creative given the constraints around them.
I found TikTok a waste of time and awkward at best pre-COVID (“why is everyone in their suburban basements with pajamas and no shoes on?”), but now, all we have is time and strangeness. Now, I join these cooped up creators in pajamas. Dancing in the living room — me too. Singing to the dog — me too. My Instagram content has always been monopolized by humblebrags about my world travels, so I’m clearly now in an Instagram content draught. I wonder if others are too? Surely we can’t pollute our Instagram feeds or even stories histories with the level of unprecedented absurdity we’re currently feeling. It’s not pretty. All the content I have left in my life is arguably only suited for TikTok: sheltered-in-place, absurdist comedy in my pajamas. Long gone are the coastlines of Italy. I’m not ready to produce on TikTok, but I’m certainly qualified.
So what happens when this is all over? When we’re released back into the wild and can board a plane, attend a wedding, and do other fantastic, Instagrammable things? When will I have time for TikTok? More curious yet — when will I again be in a TikTok state of mind? I hope never? I like to think that’s not my true self. I like to picture myself on the coastlines of Italy (my Instagram self), not wearing the same shirt for the third day in a row, laughing at WFH jokes from my couch (my TikTok self). In fact, might I consider purging TikTok (DELETING IT?!) after this is all over, as a symbolic return to normalcy? We’ll see how quarantine changes me.