I see you.
Not the social media image you portray to your thousands of followers, fans and
‘friends’ but the real you. The one that struggles to hold a conversation, when
it’s not written in Helvetica Neue.
The anxiety
of real life becomes a heavy pressure, and one that forces you to persist in
flaunting your best moments in a 10 second snapshot as you shut out the remaining 23 hours 59 minutes and 50 seconds.
Your time
spent locked away in your bedroom is a season of worry and concern, that the
true world cannot offer you admiration or love but your fix of likes, for your
perfect and totally 'candid' photography papers over the cracks of your many self-imposed and false imperfections.
Your idea
of perfection is a flurry of “goals”, “wow” and a series of complimentary
emojis filtering through your phone system like a heroine injection, outweighing
any real life conversation, as in reality; a dog filter cannot mask the look of
worry that your existence may not be as ideal as your notifications seem to
suggest.
Flicking through
to satisfy your craving for attention while ignoring the world around you, lost
in the 4G dimension.
