I have no power against it. Its succulent allure draws me in like a cartoon character lifted off the ground by the sweet aroma of an apple pie in the window. I get pulled along with a big smile on my face, knowing that a treat awaits me. I know that I shouldn’t. I know that it’s bad, but I still answer its call of temptation.

I get closer to my computer, and my mind goes blank and numb. Forgetting the problems around me, I take a seat and open the home page. Each mouse click enraptures me further in a state of euphoria until my mind is completely gone and I have no control over my own actions.

My weakness to it comes from my weakness to life. It surrounds me and feeds on my need to release my mind from the anxiety and worry of my day. Once I have given Netflix a way into my mind, it makes its home. And it never leaves. It whispers in my ear that I’m living a different life, and before I know it, I’m not living any life at all.

When Netflix gets its grip on me, I cannot be saved.

I recline in my desk chair as best I can while my mind leaves my body for a better existence. The show begins, and I forget to blink for the next six hours. The room is dark, darker than it seems possible to be. The darker the room is, the less of it I have to see. I am free to forget about the room while my mind is gone. I am free to forget about everything while I’m watching Netflix.

Freedom is a double-edged sword, though. I may be free from life, but I am a slave to a new master. It throws its shackles around my wrists without me noticing. I willingly place the cuffs on myself. The longer I am a slave to this new master, the tighter its grip becomes. The show ends, but there are still more to watch. It will play the next episode without my input, but I may as well serve my master and start it on my own!

I deserve the pain that comes with my relaxation because I tell myself I deserve to relax. I feel the sting of the whip every time Netflix forces me to watch another episode. Other things need to be accomplished. I have homework. I have dreams.

Rather, I had those things. Because once I am in the grip of Netflix, my life is no longer my own. It becomes something new. I become one with the show, one with my computer screen, and one with the chair I sit in. And together we become a different person, living the exciting life of a fictional character.

Time passes quickly, and with little indication. When my mind and body are lost in the allure of a different world, there is no time to look at the clock. There is only time to wonder what will happen next. What will happen in the next episode? What will happen in the next season? But it is a trick.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

The next episode will never be what I want. The dramatic tension that keeps me paralyzed in my chair will not be resolved in the next thirty minutes. It will not be resolved in the sixty minutes to follow either. It will take hours. Somewhere deep down, I know this to be true as I start the next episode, but, somewhere deep down, I don’t care. I want to continue. Even if the next five episodes don’t resolve the issues that are keeping me involved in the show, I will watch, knowing that the last episode will give me the resolution I desire so much.

“Are you still watching?” It taunts me. It knows that I am. It knows that it has me in its grip. It doesn’t intend to let me go. It only wants to see me suffer as I am forced to choose yet again to renew my bondage and continue my life as its slave. I begin to fidget in my seat. I am too far along to quit. My mind is too far gone to be reined in.

Out the window, the sun has set. The entire sky, all the stars, and the moon shout together. They tell me not to listen to Netflix. They say I should stop, go to bed, and regain my freedom once again. But as I stare back at the stars and moon, Netflix calls out. This is my freedom. This is my freedom. I will not abandon it to be chained to my real life. The stars are jealous. They only want me to stop watching Netflix because they know that it allows me to escape the real world, something they can never do.

Sometime later, my freedom starts to feel like defeat. As though I have lost a great battle, I slip from my chair and lay on the floor. What have I lost? What great battle was fought that I didn’t notice? It was the battle for my soul. Netflix has beaten me. It has won me over. I was caught in its grip once, a slave to it later, but now I am its prey. I am the fallen, the victim of its war. It has beaten me, and it laughs at my defeat.

The next episode is about to play. Netflix is about to continue its dominance over me. I understand now what the stars were telling me. I am not freeing myself from life by becoming a slave to Netflix. I am becoming its victim. I will not allow the war to end before I decide to fight. I will stand and put a stop to the empire it has built in my life.

“Release your grip on me, you monster!” I shout as I grab my mouse and click the ‘x’ in the top right corner of the screen.

“What have you done to me?” Netflix cries as it is defeated. The monster is gone in the smallest millisecond, and I am free from it.

I take a deep breath as my mind returns to my body. The world around me becomes clear again. I can see the real world; I’m blind no longer. Netflix is defeated, and I can move on. The stars and moon were right when they told me to retake my freedom, to stop, and to go to bed. I lay down on my bed and sleep. In the morning, I will be able to deal with the problems of the real world. I will be able to remember my real life and not the one I lived through Netflix. So long as I can resist the temptation to return to the world where life is more exciting, where the real world is dark, I will stay free.