You know what’s the main problem with Instagram? It is addictive. Like a bag of chips that you can’t put down once you taken that first slice of potato.
You just starting off, and you made an account, and you posted something and surprisingly there were 50 people who showed up and cared about what you posted, and you liked it. 50 people… not bad, right? You’re life will never be the same! It was a trap!
Next thing you do is you make sure that you film whatever happens during your day in vertical mode, because otherwise it won’t fit on the instastory. You have all those beautiful images that you so carefully created putting your heart and soul into it just to squeze them into that ass-small format where nobody is even going to see your cliffs if you shot them at 11 mm… and most of the comments will be from bots saying that you’re rad, and clapping with their missing limbs (cause bots don’t have hands, let’s just agree to that)… what kind of sad ridiculousness is that?
And you need to post every day, otherwise all the likers, stalkers and voyeurs will unsubscribe and go somewhere else. You need to post at the right moment, otherwise if in the first 3 minutes lots of people won’t like your post, it will never make anywhere. You need to research the most trendy hashtags for the type of content you post, otherwise you won’t get enough bot likes and your post will look pathetic.
But isn’t that all pathetic?
Instead of creating something new, or planning on a project, you just keep staring at your screen in hope for appreciation from someone you never met in your life.
When I am in Iceland sitting on a heap of fresh moss, the thing that I care least about at that very moment is who is going to like picture of “me arse” sitting here. It’s just awesome to have the soft greenness under your feet, the crazy changing weather in the sky, the drizzle from the waterfalls, and the waves that tend to be naughty, trying to lick your feet. It is awesome to have it to yourself, and who cares how many bots will appreciate you posting a picture from that experience. I rather spend more time roaming around the lava field than checking how many more hearts did I receive in the last hour. And you will check, because it is addictive. And it feels good when there are many of those hearts. It feels shitty when there aren’t as many as you’d like there to be. But does it matter? Not really. It just stresses you out. Cause what if you don’t have the next picture to post?
And it feels great to go on a trip and not to worry about what the instagram community expects from you. What?! You are going to Norway but not to Lofoten Islands? But what is there else in Norway to do? Must stand on the edge of the cliff and on the rock inbetween of two mountains. Yeah, right, maybe not.
But it’s all a part of the masterplan.
Dance if you want to dance,
Please brother, take a chance,
You know that they’re gonna go
Which way they wanna go.
All We Know is That We Don’t Know
How It’s Gonna Be.
Please, brother, let it be.
Life, on the other hand,
Won’t make us understand
We’re all part of a masterplan.