Ray D'Arcy

And I've been reading a little bit about this.

There was a big article in The Atlantic magazine about Lana Isa.

She has 195,000 followers on Instagram for her videos that mostly consist of her shuffling around her quiet, tidy apartment.

She slides a pre-made pizza into the oven, pours herself a wine glass full of Diet Coke and settles in on the couch.

Or she plays a crackling fake fireplace on her TV screen, dims the light and watches the rain fall outside her window.

Sometimes she takes walks, tries new cafes, goes shopping.

No one else ever shows up in her videos, though she occasionally mentions FaceTiming her mother.

And a typical sort of heading for one of her videos, POV as in point of view, you're single, have no friends, live alone and won't be having kids.

So this is your Friday night.

So this, in a way, is the epitome of that thing, you know, in an age where we appear to be most connected, as in digitally connected, to anybody in the world.

But also we live in a world that's suffering an epidemic of loneliness.

And this says all of that, doesn't it, in this little thing, this Lana Isa solitude influencer.

Loneliness influencers, they're also called.

And they share their lives and people who have similar lives, I think, like to watch them.

And I suppose it makes them feel that they're not alone.

That other people in the world are experiencing what they're experiencing.

It's quite lonely.

There's obviously a demand for it.

She has 195,000 followers.

And she doesn't really communicate with any of her followers.