I want to control what others think about me…
Social media is my greatest weapon…
Filter this, edit that…
It took me 38 attempts just to get the right selfie to share…
Phew. I got it.

my inner voice speaking as I scrolled through Instagram

Anything less than 20 likes is unacceptable. Maybe, if I show enough cleavage and a bit of ass skin, we may be talking 50 likes minimum. Yes, that’s what I’ll do. I need my ‘likes’ fix!

I’ll even use a meaningless and unrelated caption about haters and how they’ll keep hating to show how effortless this was for me. I’m a such a fraud; it took me at least 30 minutes of trial and error and angles and lighting and editing just to land this shot.

I won’t point fingers because I am guilty of massaging reality until all people see is whatever I choose to put on stage. I barely give out any backstage passes where the wild things are; where my rawest form is on display before I change into whatever costume I choose for my next act. I am, after all, the author, the writer, the director, and the actor. I am even sometimes a ghostwriter for other people’s performances. I’ve also stolen a page or two from other’s acts.

You let people in and they’ll disappoint you with their lack of understanding or they’ll use it against you and never see you the same way again or, or, or they’ll be there for you forever. Imagine that.

I am the new human and I have no chill. Nothing fills the empty incompleteness even when the smile is from temple to temple. Nothing stops the yearning for that time when things were so simple.

I have no idea where I’m going with this but I promised myself that my blog will be my public diary so I’ll leave it be because this is exactly how I feel and my thoughts at the moment. Reminds me of ‘We are Con Men.’


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