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A Rant About My Instagram Addiction

#throwbackthursday #selfiesunday #instalove #instadaily #yay #foodgasm #iphonography

Before you get confused and wonder what this is all about, let me tell you that this might not make sense to you if you don’t have an Instagram account. I’ll try being comprehensive though. Those above words combined with the hash sign, (collectively known as hash tags) are some of the words that have plagued my written vocabulary lately on a specific app or website (as you may please) called Instagram.

So everyone, I proclaim myself today truly guilty of an uncontrollable, immensely strange Instagram addiction. Might I say, it feels really good to finally come out.

Capture and Share the World’s Moments
Instagram is a fast, beautiful and fun way to share your life with friends and family.

It was #flashbackfriday. I woke up early as usual and it was then that I realized I’m suffering from this addiction. I thumbed through my iPhone gallery the moment I opened my eyes and suddenly found myself at a loss of appropriate photos to share with my followers on Instagram. How formidable!

For those who are in the loop, they know that adhering to those “hashtags each day” thing keeps your online persona alive and active. If you’ve ever wondered what #tbt is then I apologize. You’re not one of them.

I’m currently on Facebook (also, Tumblr which is absolutely inactive, just for stalking purposes..) and thankfully well past that phase of updating my profile picture every few days. I also have lists that ensure my privacy and make life a whole lot easier. I would say to a big extent that I’m a social media expert. I take my time before joining a network and make sure I’ve scrutinized every aspect of it before taking the leap. Currently, working on the Twitter jump for my blog.

But then one day Instagram came into my life and everything else minimized itself. It’s the app that gets to stay on the main home screen of my iPhone and believe me, that’s saying a lot.

Over a period of time, my addiction for this seemingly simple photo sharing app increased and so did my Followers. You know you are a real Instagram Diva if you maintain your People You Follow to Followers ratio closely to 1:2. It might entail making that cruel “Is this person worth it?” decision of not following back those who follow you, but well, being a Diva does come at a cost and can make you seem like a total bitch for the most part.

What’s queer is that even though I’m totally obsessed with the numbers that my Instagram displays, my account is private. No random person could come across my pictures due to my hashtag and be able to like or comment on them. They’ll have to man up and send me a follow request and then finally stalk the hell out of my feed. This, for your information, hasn’t happened till date. Maybe I don’t hashtag enough? Haha, kidding.

Instagram is a seamlessly beautiful app that lets you showcase your life in pictures and offers beautiful filters which can make even the ugliest selfies look tolerable. Of course, take a picture of the street across your building and filter it. It won’t ever look the same. Not on Insta at least. Now that they’ve added the new feature of being able to share short videos upto 15 seconds, I’m actually pretty pleased. That was the only thing the near perfect app lacked. Also, they were one of the quickest to upgrade their interface to fit in to the iOS 7 feel. Quite impressive, I say.

I feel a compulsive need to catalog my life on Instagram. I already have a blog and some diaries and the written word when required to be written almost always finds one or the other outlet. However, Instagram was everything I needed for my visual needs. Even though I’d always pick the detailed description of a scenery over an actual scenic picture, it’s not to say that the latter doesn’t matter too. Since Instagram provides you an unlimited space for captioning your pictures, I see it as my duty to be as comprehensive as possible in my captions and of course, hashtags. I see nothing wrong in posting a picture of a top I tried on in a fitting room which accentuated my good parts perfectly, although was unreasonably priced and had to be let go of. If I’m served something at a restaurant that I don’t see very often, I’m very likely to upload that, too. I’ll never get enough of my face aka #selfiesunday, which is my favourite. I’ll always share relevant, smart, snazzy, sarcastic things I read up and the music that’s currently giving me an #eargasm. Of course, if you’re a celebrity or a Thought Catalog writer I ardently admire, I might even search for you like a total creep until I find that officially ticked account and press the green Follow Me button. I’ll be that person who takes snapshots of thoroughly useless but witty conversations and blur the names before I share them. I’m telling you these things, just so you know that I see nothing wrong about this. I have accepted my addiction and it even makes me feel ridiculously good. Oh trust me, this is a good thing. I’m hard to please.

A few days back, I received a birthday surprise from my friend, and somewhere in between he threatened to Unfollow me. It didn’t strike me why and it was ironic when it finally did, because I was arranging my presents in an artistic fashion just so I could upload them later (#birthdaylove!). My friend said that I take on a completely different personality on Instagram and it’s pretty annoying. He said that to be able to link my WordPress and Facebook, where I am apparently smart and witty, with my constant “meaningless” Instagram uploads would be quite an abomination. I promised I’d hold off till #throwbackthursday and not spam his feed. Easier said than done, though. The pictures were uploaded soon enough and luckily when the time came to put our friendship to the test, I didn’t get unfollowed, after all.

This has to be the greatest Instagram account that never existed.

Oh, and for those with an intense dislike for everything that I do on Instagram, here’s where you can find a voice for your hate – Satiregram.

Also, as a part of #superficialsaturday (credits to the friend threatening to unfollow me) I’ll be taking a snapshot of this WordPress blog and sharing it on my Instagram. Why you ask? Because I can.

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The One Who Didn’t Treat You Right

The One who didn’t treat you right deserves no more to be The One.

“A man takes his sadness down to the river and throws it in the river but then he’s still left with the river. A man takes his sadness and throws it away but then he’s still left with his hands.”

-Richard Siken

The one who didn’t treat your body right. You assumed they’d do something interesting with it. You didn’t know what.

You hoped they would find out and let you know. You waited endlessly and Time started leaving your side without a warning notice.There was a vacant look in your eye when you’ll were together. You were dreaming of coral reefs under an ocean. You were hoping for something different that you didn’t already know. For fear of losing everything you decided to hold on to at least something.

It wasn’t that you were weak. You were too stubborn to let go of what you thought (or assumed) you had rightful claim upon. Time caught up, finally. You wake up one day and the air seems heavy with the past. You look around, you have a sudden sense of emergency, of an hourglass flipped over, of the platform moving away as the train moved forward. You run like you’ve never run before. Cars and cafes pass in a blur. And you can see the bokeh from the corner of the eye. Like the ones you saw in those tumblr pictures. You think of a movie where people run towards their destiny. You avoid thinking of those that run away from theirs. You have a hand cupped around something invisible. It’s strange you can’t shake it off. But you try not to think of such conundrums. You run till you can run no more and suddenly you wake up. There’s a slight buzzing in your head. You’re in a stranger’s washroom filled with beauty products which one only buys but never intends to use. You look at your face and try to spot any changes. But you’re still the same. And your hands, they are still urging for that invisible form, so you look down at your palms. You wash them, repeatedly. You scrub them. How were you going to wash something invisible away, you will ask later. You will justify to yourself you were being paranoid. Fair enough.
You look at the mirror one more time, not knowing what to find there. It isn’t too difficult to lose yourself once you’ve lost everything else that matters. But you know in your head, you ran. You ran far away and there’s a place you’ve carved for yourself. Your very own wonderland and you can rest there. In moments of worry, you can shut your eyes and go there and come back when you please. Just make sure you wash your hands clean.