The (Unhealthy) power of Instagram

If anyone knows me at all, they will know of my obsession with the picture sharing social media app that is known as Instagram (you can go follow me if ya fancy a cheeky peak here:ย georgiaefrancis)

I think anyone that is anyone has an Instagram account; whether it be for sharing your own pictures or following (ahem, stalking) others. What started off as a harmless picture sharing website has slowly but surely turned into a competition against strangers, and quite often, against friends, of who can use the most hashtags and/or get the most likes on one picture, or gain as many followers as possible.

Instagram has become a place where peopleย use their posts as a way to glorify their lives. It has started making every other ordinary human miserable because they feel their life isn’t as glamorous and they are unfulfilled because the accounts they follow are doing so much better at life.

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Photographs are my moments, my memories

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My life is shaped by the urgent need to wander and observe, and my camera is my passport.

I made a wish list a few months back when I was intent on blogging and trying to keep up the appearance that I was a good blogger. But, you know what? I’m terrible at blogging. I can talk for hours. Most of the time, people want me to shut the hell up. I am good with words, I am exceptionally good at giving advice. Yet, when it comes to blogging, I feel I have nothing to say and that strikes me. At first I tried to force myself to write about things I thought people would find interesting. I would write a few posts a week and think that was it. I was good at blogging. I would then not blog anything for months and when I’d come crawling back, it would be because I’d have some crazy life altering news to share – which of course, is great for me because yay my life is moving forward. Or there would be days when I would blog about my unhappy moments, or if I was feeling particularly glum. Again, great for me, and to some extent, maybe for others who wanted to find someone else who relates to the same emotions you’re feeling. But again, it’s not great for readers.

I have come to the conclusion that, although I like words and I like to talk, a written blog is not necessarily my way of connecting with the world. In fact, as of late especially, my way of connecting is through my iPhone camera.

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