Tiny Plastic Houses

I keep seeing this posted around and I tend to agree with its general sentiment… In theory, in ideal, in most every way… except in practice.

I mean, seriously, everyone tosses around these amazingly inspirational blurbs, quotes, thoughts. (Especially after the quoted has died, I might add.) No one mentions the inherent risk in living this way. No one really talks about what this particular person had to endure to be who he was… What he had to live with to be able to meaningfully say and think these thoughts.No one talks about how in their real, everyday life the truest they are to their grand potential is on a stupid Social Networking site… They hide the fact that the biggest risk they take on average is watching the wrong television program or saying something semi-scandalous at the water cooler. They hide who they are and what their life is really about behind a dry, flaking facade of embellished stories, posed pictures, amazing quotables, and stolen ideas. Happiness is shellacked over every fucking moment of their lives as picture after picture and line after stolen line is posted… and all that is real, all that truly means anything is hidden within this foggy shell of falsehood.

What happened to the real you? The one you were born with? The one that was formed through experience and age? Is she hiding behind an animated figure you’ve posed to be the perfect representation of who you are? Is she screaming to be let out? To truly experience all the things she represents in the public eye? Is she trapped between the person you’ve created here on the internet, the person you outwardly present in person, and her deepest thoughts and dreams?