I Wanted to Share That I’m Not Sharing

I deactivated Facebook.

I haven’t posted a tweet in ten days.

Creating Our Own Narratives

weaving narratives

What we post in these moments of proclamation on a site like Facebook is a byproduct, a projection. Instead, life happens between status updates.

Instagram Has Ruined Me

Alhambra, Granada

Then I opened Instagram, ran a filter over it, and posted it — to send it off into the world to be liked and viewed for its moment of glory, and to shortly after join the stream of other Instagrams disappearing into our Internet wasteland.

Still Thinking About Now: On Twitter and (Real) Time

bananagrams

I think of the expiration dates we stamp on produce at the supermarket. How when we place items on shelves, we instantly date their freshness. I think about tweets in the same way: once unleashed for all to see, how long can they sit before they’re irrelevant? Before they’re kicked out of the conversation of now?

Instapaper and My Ideal Intellectual State

My Ideal State

Read Later. I’m unsure what this means now. It’s become less of an action, and now some kind of blessed, magical place. An ideal state far in the horizon, to where I put stories and ideas and information for me to consume and synthesize to make myself a better, more informed person.

Notes on Past Selves & My Abandoned Digital Spaces

Neon Boneyard shadows

So I’ve thought about what digital spaces I’ll update with this name change, and which ones I may leave alone, and why I choose to make this distinction. I updated my name on Facebook—minus the reaction I had after updating my Twitter account—which makes me wonder about the identities maintained on each of these networks, the distinct spheres of my Internet, and the different levels of public.

On (New) Ways of Photographing and Consuming

city hall-fisheye-no border

I show a similar disinterest in my photography. Process and context are increasingly less significant. I’m preoccupied instead with creating the perfect shot for any given moment—worthy of an avatar, of a Facebook cover photo—and discarding the rest. A single unit is easier and faster to create—and consume.

On Everything and Nothing & Reading and Not Writing

typewriter-square cropped

Sometimes I envision my Twitter feed as rushing water: my presence is a dam, and each tweet is debris making its way downstream. It’s now a challenge to let information simply flow—to let tweets swim by without me seeing or interacting with them.

Filed Away: On Pinterest and Dreams

Pinterest

Sure, I was collecting things in an online space. But it still felt like clutter, fit for shoe boxes under my bed. And with Pinterest, my aspirations no longer floated in my head. They were right there: discoverable, pinnable, and recyclable by others. Aren’t my dreams supposed to be elusive? Unable to be bookmarked?

On Favorited Tweets and My Internet Limbo

blurry lights

But on Twitter, it’s different: favoriting is less about someone else and more about me. The process is about plucking the juicy bits from others’ minds and imaginations and tossing them into a cauldron—a volatile place that mirrors my headspace at any given moment.