I could get used to this. Cuddled up on my new mattress in bed with this laptop beside with a gentle sound of Ben Howard’s voice is probably the most relaxing position I could ever be in this world. With a full day of me being consistently on the tips of my feet working, has finally brought me to a good welcomed place where I feel nostalgic but completely (and utterly) worn out. After an exam heavy month, Friday was spent with me starting a new clean book called ‘the Return’ by Victoria Hislop. It’s a romance book and when my mum gave it to me a few months ago, I kept it to myself that I thought I wasn’t going to enjoy it but how the writer has constructed her beautiful descriptions of Spain and dance but also the tragic emotions of the character’s experiences with the Spanish Civil War has captured my eyes and now, I can’t stop reading it.
It scares me that books are becoming lost in our generation. Whenever I get the intrusion of my phone buzzing with a snapchat of a muggle asking what I’m up to and I replied with “Just reading a book”, there is a pause in this conversation like they are trying to work out if you’re lying to have an appearance of an intellectual or the worse…a hipster. Fellow teenagers ask “eh, why do you read books? Don’t you read enough at school?” or if they have little intelligence of themselves they call you ‘gay’. Clap them for them lot. However, I understand the distrust of someone saying that they read a book. Maybe it’s just me but I have a moment of surprise when I hear someone my age reads a book; it’s like you’ve found someone with the same name. It’s unusual for one of my mates not to be synced with Netflix 24/7 that pushes out the literacy world in this 21st century culture especially the teenage culture.
But maybe, the idea of someone lying to be intelligent is the key point to look at. Maybe we have become worn down to the artificial element of everyone trying to pretend to be someone else; that we cannot actually believe other’s so-called ‘interests’ and ‘passions’ in the world today. It’s alarming to think that. It’s hard to know if this is a growing up phase or a new culture thing where we strive to be perfect. I’m only sixteen where today, I’m only gradually being more exposed to this beautiful world each day.
With a few of my friends, the indoctrination of media has made me feel disconnected where on their Instagrams and other social platforms, they seem to suggest like they have the perfect life. I do that too. Moreover, in reality, they still carry on with pained forced smiles on their glowing faces with a strong desire to be ideal creates me go stir crazy.
I avoid my Instagram nowadays. If you have previously followed me on my Hideaway Girl Instagram, you may found that I’ve deleted it and as I may have said previously, I couldn’t stand the constant messages of glossed over pictures. It drove me to a point where I would get irritated with the comments on one other’s photos saying how jealous we are of one other and how we wished we looked like a different person. When I go on my personal Instagram now, a pang of tension crawls to my stomach as I try to guess what my mood will be after I click on the app. Will it be delight of receiving witty memes my friends sent me? Will it be cringe of my ex’s topless photos? Will it be the guilt of how I don’t look like that perfect girl? The low self-confidence in myself has only recently been able to be accepted by me; even though, the majority of my small social group has probably already gathered that I have little love for my own face. My self love plummets at the worse times when Instagram can make me just go into a long state of complete depression for days where I feel not myself but a disgusting thing that should sort it’s looks out in any way possible. Despite this, I know I’m not the only one who feel like this too.
But remember what we stated earlier on? Being fake is what this culture is nowadays and so Instagram is the embodiment of that devilish section of society. So, at the end of the day when I get off my Instagram and cry about how ugly I am; it’s not true. It’s just my brain overthinking that everyone is perfect and that I’m just an outcast. I don’t blame my brain or other’s brains getting like that because the fake evidence of perfection was in front of me. Although, what wasn’t in front of me was the retake of the ‘stainless’ picture hundreds of times and the expensive pile of makeup (and filters) upon the subject of the photo.
I want you to think at least three things good about yourself. It could be about how you are around others, a loved memory, a talent or something that you’re proud of such as having such an inspiring sibling or a mate. You don’t have to comment it but write it down and keep that little list in mind when you’re feeling unwanted or undeserved. It would be lovely to have a few comments about what you like about yourself and others though.
Anyways I hope you are all well and had a lovely weekend like I did,