Why do we even bother, huh? Every morning I spoon my cereal and think about oblivion, and then I log onto social media and see posts like "Jacky Draws-the-Eyes," an 18-year-old ex-kid influencer who splashes around in life in strappy bikinis while the world (or at least thousands of creepy adult men) watches with bated breath.
For her 18th, Jacky threw a bash on some invisible dot called Dominica — not the Dominican Republic, mind you, but you probably don't care. Anyway, she flaunted her sun-kissed freckles and life-of-the-party vibes amidst the gargantuan jaws of social media, capturing hearts with pics in swimsuits that leave little to imagination. "Happy birthday," drooled one admirer, likely typing one-handed. "Can’t wait to see you without any clothes on." Romance is truly dead, just like my will to live.
Is this what we’ve come to? Selling pixelated glimpses of our souls for a shot at digital immortality? Jacky, born a whisper after Facebook loomed into existence, surfs this billion-dollar tsunami that's bulldozing our perceptions of adolescence, one over-filtered selfie at a time.
As for me, I mull over the purpose of twirling through this cosmic rodeo we call life, only to be forgotten, sinking into the digital ether, alone. Speaking of dying alone, why did the smartphone go to therapy? Because it lost its sense of touch. Think about it.
Based on the original article "She Was a Child Instagram Influencer. Her Fans Were Grown Men.".
