The Black Square That Saved Me From My Phone
The Problem
Life was passing me by, and my phone had become my prison. I mean it - a real prison, the kind with invisible bars made of notifications and dopamine hits.
Here's how it went: I'd wake up, and instead of getting out of bed like a normal human being, I'd tell myself I just needed to check my messages first. Just a quick look. But checking messages would spiral into scrolling through three, four social networks. On weekends? That turned into a full hour of scrolling in bed before I'd even had my coffee. An entire hour of my life, gone, watching other people's lives instead of living mine.
Standing in line at the doctor's office, the anxiety of waiting would be immediately medicated by burying my head in my phone, like an ostrich sticking its head in the sand to hide from danger. Walking down the street and spotting someone I wanted to avoid? Head down, phone out, suddenly very interested in a message I hadn't received. At traffic lights while driving, those few seconds automatically meant a "quick" message check, because apparently anything could be more important than my safety and everyone else's around me. At night, before bed, one more check to see what crucial things had happened in the ten to twenty minutes since I'd last looked - while I was in the shower or putting on my pajamas.
I won't even talk about my screen time statistics anymore. I'd started being afraid to open them. They kept growing exponentially. And weeks where my daily average was between 4-5 hours? Those had become my good weeks. My meaningful weeks.
I'd gotten to the point where I was happy when I took a shower, because it was one of the few environments where I was without my phone. You might say it's simple, just disconnect it, put it in another room, set app timers. But no, it's not that simple. When you're at work (and a workaholic like me), you're always on, always connected, always pressed by a sense of responsibility to respond to messages and constantly check notifications. You can't just disconnect or leave your phone in another room.
I told myself this couldn't continue, that I needed to do something about my mobile phone addiction. I even put it in my 2026 resolutions: spend less time on my phone. (Yes, I know it's May and it's not exactly trendy to talk about past resolutions, but here I am.)
The Solution (Plus a Bit of History, Plus a Bit of Philosophy That'll Make You Feel Smart)
I tried productivity apps. I tried limiting my usage time. It worked a little, for about a week. By day ten, I'd suspended the suspension and was back on my phone again. That's when I realized it needed to be something more radical, something that would physically prevent me from accessing my phone. And that something needed to be a manifesto, a pact you make with yourself and with the universe.
I also realized you fight addiction with small steps. You allow yourself small progress for the sake of bigger progress later. If you've smoked two packs a day for ten years, you don't quit today by chewing pretzel sticks like you did as a kid. You quit gradually, one cigarette less each day. Same with the phone. You try to limit access, one hour less per day. Then I remembered Malevich and Suprematism. You're probably thinking this is completely unrelated. You might not even know who Malevich is. Both options are perfectly okay. Let me explain. Kazimir Malevich was a Ukrainian painter from the early 20th century. He invented Suprematism and launched his Black Square in 1915 - exactly 111 years ago. That felt symbolic to me, and I thought the stars had aligned to confirm that it made sense. You know how it is when you want to believe in something - you look for reasons, and sometimes you actually find them. Suprematism said that every possible form of painting and art had been invented, and that it was time to return to zero point, where anything could become anything and anyone could interpret anything however they liked. Very conceptual. Very smart.
Now, in 2026, with all the AI and the multitude of apps and networks and online content, I feel a total saturation and exhaustion with everything this rectangular screen shows me. It feels like everything's been invented and reinvented and it's all just one big charade. And we're hamsters in wheels running after the same type of content over and over. I don't know how Malevich felt in 1915 when he made his Black Square, but in 2026 I feel damn tired of the internet and my addiction to it. And I thought the Black Square could help me.
The Square
It's a black square that appears on your screen daily. For sixty minutes, you can't use your phone. You have to leave it on screen to complete the manifesto. It's a challenge you make to yourself and to the universe. If you manage to leave your phone untouched for 60 minutes (you literally can't even press the lock button), you get a short journal page that lets you take notes. Your notes. Personal, anonymous, only you have access to them. You can write how you felt, what you did, or whatever you want. At the end of each month, you get a tally of completed manifestos: the number of hours you were free from your phone, and a total of notes showing you a reflection of who you were in that hour.
If during those 60 minutes you press something or want to check a message or app, the square cracks and you get a new chance the next day. It's harder than it sounds. Sometimes it's downright annoying and frustrating. But when you complete the hour, you feel relief. You feel like you did something truly meaningful and resisted the urge. If you've read this far, you've probably lived this problem too. You know what phone addiction feels like and how the digital world suffocates you. Maybe you should try the square. Maybe it could help you too.