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If I could only be a tourist but we live here now.
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If it weren’t for social media I’d have forgotten you exist.
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How are you? I’m fine. You probably won’t reply to this.
That makes me a creep I guess. Still hope you’re ok.
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So tired of seeing myself through your eyes.
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We’re living lives in tiny boxes on little screens.
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Every #positivity, every #blessed is a cry for help.
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If I had the money I would log off forever.
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Dear algorithm: I hate my friends. Please assign me new ones.
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If I were even half the person I pretend to be online.
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Anything you say can and will be used against you in the show trials when the revolution comes.
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Yet another day of prostituting myself on social media for the promise of human connection.
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Being constantly surveilled gives my life meaning. I matter!
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When I’m not online I don’t exist.
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No touching the food till the money shot!
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Like, share, and follow! That I may seek meaning through monetization.
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The pose can’t look too posed! I need to be “authentic.”
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Not pretty enough to post. Not stupid enough to comment.
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