Anti-Social

Facebook, twitter, gmail, ping, bbm, whatsapp; you would have thought that in a shrinking world, and age of information technology, that we would be more social than we've ever been. We have the means to connect to any and everyone we've ever met. To keep their details forever stored. No more losing email addresses, phone numbers, etc. A permanent cyber connection. They're always a click away and they'll always be a click away. We can keep people posted about what we're doing, when we're doing it, where we are, who we're seeing, what music we like. Everything. We are connected 24/7. At home, on the move, in some places even underground.

But its a lie. Its all a lie. We are slaves to the marketing departments of our egos. More image aware and conscious than we've ever been. We've all just been given an advertising space, accumulating false friends and phony acquaintances, to spread the message further and wider. Studio profile pictures, or that one lucky random shot that makes us look better than we ever really do. The hottest we've ever looked by some freak coincidence, or the cookiest, or coolest, or most blase. Whatever the product we're selling that month, that's the picture we'll adopt. And like all good advertising, we change the advert every once in a while to keep the audience hooked.

We are slaves to narcissim. There is no social, there is no socialising. We're all sales men and women whoring ourselves so that someone will "like" a posting, or comment on something we've done. Attention. "Look at me! Look at me!" One hand on the keyboard, or the mobile, and the other in a big tub of vaseline, ready to masturbate to the magnificence of our own profiles, of ourselves in a life we've meticulously constructed using the objects and items taken from our real lives, to make something better than we ever were or could be. There is just us. Our 200+ friends are inconsequential. Its me, me, me. Its an obsessive downward spiral, a swamp of self obsessed, image conscious, won't someone just love me, how many friends do I have, how hot do I look in that picture worship of the last diety standing in this godless world: yourself.