it’s all just a snapshot in time
We, as a generation, the millennia’s, have created a complex, an obsession, an enigma that has been given birth through the technology that has emerged in our world. We stare into a small lens on our phones weekly, daily, hourly, persistently to find something more. To create something more. To become what we see inside of us, want to find, feel the need to expose. Is it our identity? Is it a way of clawing at a reality we can only perceive through these photos that we take of ourselves?
The Selfie. A word I’ve grown sick with. A narcissistic hobby I refused to let myself conceive. Something I didn’t understand, but lusted after. Why would I want such a thing, you may wonder? It’s simple. As a writer, I strive to explore any and all things that can be experienced, felt and seen. Within reason. What were my peers, the ones who mercilessly post picture after picture after picture of themselves, trying to convey? What were we doing to ourselves? Were these pictures for ourselves? Were they for others? Were they to prove things in a positive way? Were they encompassing impossible ideals? Chasing after beauty standards that are unachievable?
Of course, this topic proved to house a snowball effect that eventually led to myself questioning all that I had been in the last few years. What was the point in sharing photos on social media? The reasoning behind exclaiming to the world that I had travel plans on the horizon? Were these things pure? Was I, in a feeble attempt, attempting to lure other into a life lived more freely, more open? Or, was I my own worst enemy? Was I bragging? The peacock of what a life of your own choosing could look like.
I struggled in answering these questions without wavering. So, I ceased all usage of Facebook, Instagram,Twitter, SnapChat, fill in the blank social media, immediately. For months.
I traveled to Southeast Asia this Spring and implemented a “Selfie” project, where I took daily [ehhh, it was more like every few days] pictures of myself. Raw photos where I captured my truest reality no matter what. The results are as seen above.
Days where I felt alive. Days where I cried and cried and cried. Days where I was lost in the hills of Vietnam. Days where I had done nothing but write under a bungalow on an island off the Andaman Coast of Thailand. Days where I had eaten my body-weight in Pad Thai.
These fleeting moments, the imperfections of life, are what we SHOULD chase.
The learning is how we get to the loving.
It’s all just a snapshot in time.