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On the Need to Express

July 28, 2013

Written in a moment of profound despair. Actually, replace profound with procrastinating.

FRA is killing me. I am going to fail. Today’s lunch was instant noodles. Didn’t finish it. Now I’m hungry, but dinner is two hours away. #Firstworldproblems.

When did this urge begin, this need to broadcast to the world how we feel, what we do, what we eat, what we read, the things we love and love to hate? Why is there an urge to vent: “Aargh! Badgroceries has the worst customer service evarr!!!!” at every other incident that occurs over the course of our mundane daily lives?

Why, exactly, am I even writing – and posting – this shit?

Facebook asks, “What’s on your mind?” and being ever obedient: “READ THIS. SO TRUE.” we post a new article about easy removal of dead skin on elbows.

Twitter doesn’t even bother. Just sign up, tweet away your daily meals and cat antics¹.

Good thing most starving African children haven’t got access to the Internet. Yet.

It is in human nature to share, but not especially to be self-aware (of one’s own banality²).

There is a painting of Socrates, about to quaff his hemlock; he points at the sky, authoritatively, while his adoring, grieving disciples kneel at his feet, pleading for him not to off himself, listening raptly to his final discourse³.

Maybe we all just want to feel like that, a little bit.



¹ Everybody loves cats. You don’t love cats? Get the hell off my Internet.

² Myself included. I think…?

³ I’ve never understood, though, the uncaring? unconscious? dead? dude at the far left. Maybe he’s the Rest of the World.


Post Script.

By the way. This is my 201st post. My 101st post was in 2008; I started this crap in 2006. So 2 years to reach the first 100 posts and 5 years to reach the next 100. Presuming a linear distribution…

See you on the 301st post in 2023!


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