The Agony of Instagram

It is as if every last image is designed to call to mind Norman Mailer’s book title, “Advertisements for Myself.”

Envy, of course, doesn’t operate in a social vacuum. It needs an object of desire. And everyone, it seems, has that friend on Instagram: the one with the perfect clothes and the perfect hair and seemingly perfect life — which seem all the more perfect when rendered in the rich teals and vivid ambers of Instagram’s filters.

Paulo Coehlo said it best:  ”Social media is edited real life.”

We’re all spying on each other.

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