But First…Let Me Take A Selfie

3 Apr


Sometimes in life the lighting is the perfect combination between Lo-Fi and Earlybird. The  angle at which we maneuver our chin is unnatural, yet flattering. We have accomplished a sock bun that is set in just the right spot on our heads, it is the right amount perfect with the right amount messy so that we look like neither a pretentious ballerina, nor an 11 year old in a Youtube tutorial fail. Life is momentarily good. Remove all the clutter from the background and boom, take a selfie. Then another seven. Log on to Instagram. This is so good it could be hashtagged #nofilter. But wait, our cheekbones look better in Hefe. Fuck it, filter. Share. Let the likes come in. Instant gratification. Dopamine pours into our soul with each orange notification that pops up onto our smart phone. Selfies are the new sex.

I’m guilty of the shameless selfie myself every once in awhile. It’s a quick thing to do that makes us feel better in 2 seconds, and sometimes we look nice and want to show it off. Okay.  But is there anything more depressing than an Instagram account that pumps out selfies all day long? I just want to reach out to these girls and tell them that every thing will be okay. I’m just not so sure it will. I mean, do these girls work? Or do they get paid to snap pictures of themselves in their bedroom all day? Our generation (today’s twenty-somethings) are kind’ve fucked up. As a whole, we are the most egocentric psychos of any generation before us. I guess it’s normal to get more fucked up as we go along, but I think the internet is a big factor in how fucked we are. I mean, what makes anyone think that ANYONE cares to look at an online album consisting of 138 pictures of the same person, in essentially the same weird positions, making distorted facial expressions that don’t even anatomically make sense? Because really, no one does care. Harsh.

The most fascinating part of this whole selfie phenomenon is when the selfie-taker tries to hide their selfie insecurity behind a baby. Yes, a baby. It’s one thing to show everyone how cute your baby is by uploading some adorable pictures of him eating spaghetti O’s. But the baby selfie isn’t about the baby, it’s about the selfie’er. Rather than take 14 selfies alone during the day, they take 8 of themselves and 6 with themselves…and a baby. Because they are just trying to show off their baby and who is going to call out a baby selfie? You do that and the entire internet will dub you an anti-maternal antichrist. They drag their innocent 13 month old into their egocentrism. It’s bizarre. I mean, here’s a thought: why not take your baby outdoors and get off your fucking cell phone? I’m not a mother, but I was a baby once. And I know I’d be pissed if my mother was taking pictures of herself instead of letting me thrive and shit. Cue angry moms leaving comments that I am an anti-mother antichrist who doesn’t understand that moms need breaks from their babies to take selfies from time to time every 20 minutes. Sigh.

All I know is that the more the internet can do, the more self-absorbed us humans become. It’s this attention-seeking, constant gratification behavior that comes out of a stupid “like” that really means NOTHING.  Seriously, what does it even mean? That someone absent mindedly perused their IG feed and for a fleeting moment they saw a picture they thought was neat, so they effortlessly hit a button. Wouldn’t it be a little bit healthier to just go out and live instead of refreshing internet pages? Deny if you’d like, but ask yourself honestly if you care about other peoples’ Instagram accounts and then tell me I’m wrong.

And now, an overplayed song with a surprisingly accurate description of selfies and a catchy beat:




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