zaks wri(tings) #10
Lol. Absolute BS. I’ve been saying that since I was like 14 and my close ones can attest to the fact that I’ve been saying this each and every year since. It’s got to the point that most of you probably don’t even know when my birthday is because I don’t even post the infamous annual birthday pic anymore. I don’t blame you out of sight out of mind and I think my regular stints of deleting and redownloading apps really doesn’t help. That being said if you dm me and I don’t respond in 1 to 3 working days, I’m not necessarily ignoring you. I’m on another social media detox. Text me. Better yet send me a letter. Heck even a pigeon. You’ll have a better chance of getting a reply.
Every time I go on a night out, or I am looking like a sweetie darlin, my mum bombards me at the door and insists I take a picture of myself. You know this woman will secretly message the people I’m going out with asking them to try sneak one on the low. Though it’s kinda sweet, it is just further proof that getting a picture of me willingly is rare.
It’s not that I don’t like pictures you know. In fact, I love them and think archiving moments and memories is super important. (That’s why I’ll back out a Kodak or disposable every now and then.) But I think my real problem is the posting them. I have a love-hate relationship with socials. Sometimes I want to be a really active babe as well as post selfies, social commentary, artsy stuff and my outings. But other times social media repulses me and I feel like these apps do nothing but contribute to my topsy-turvy mental health. But on the flip side, imagine something happens to me and all you lot have to use as reference is a 2016 slip or an outdated picture from an event that doesn’t even look like the current me. That’s peaaaaaaaak. Hmmm. Maybe I should post more pictures.
Who knows, this year I might post a birthday pic. But don’t hold your breath.