so it’s 2am, on a Sunday night, and you’ve got work the next day

you’ve just spent 4 hours scrolling through instagram, and you can’t help but feel tired,

but what else do you feel…

do you even realize?

it’s 3pm on Wednesday, you’re at work,

and you can’t help but feel this gnawing sense of dis-ease

all of a sudden you’re struck with shame

doing exactly what you’ve been doing for god knows how long

for some reason this week, you’re just smacked in the face with:

fuck, is this really my life?


you can’t exactly connect the two

but that’s exactly what our subconscious mind is for


IT’S LIKE YOU SOMEHOW FORGOT THAT LIFE ISN’T SUPPOSED TO BE PERFECT ALL THE TIME.


THAT SOMEWHERE ALONG THE WAY

THESE CONSTRUCTED REALITIES ON INSTAGRAM

NEVER GOT HONESTLY FACT-CHECKED

AND INSTEAD BECAME WHAT YOU COMPARE

YOUR REAL LIFE TO.


it’s like a really fucked up glitch in a video game

except that video game is your life

and the annoyingness of the glitch

- and its impossibility of being fixed -

is a sick joke that isn’t a joke at all

but instead causing you to get more depressed,

lonely (which is worse than cigarettes),

suicidal even - because why would my life be worth living

if it isn’t even half of THAT


but stopping using instagram just isn’t an option

because my mind is simply too weak

like a cow that can’t survive in the wild

it’s no longer strong enough to tell the difference between

what’s real and what’s not

it’s grown to need the validation

- to need to be close to everyone else; other humans -

because without them, i’ll die


dependent (on each other)

dependent (on each other)

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