suffocated by the demands of other lives
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I wonder what the world would be like if it were filled with only people like me
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Perhaps it’s the dreary weather or the way the sun sets so
quickly, but lately I’ve been feeling a little down. I looked up seasonal
affective disorder, which is oddly enough also known as both winter depression
and summer depression. The symptoms listed were:
a lack of energy, difficulty concentrating on or completing tasks and an
inclination to withdraw from people and social activities, none of which I have
experienced. Instead, I seem to have developed a strange obsession with
running. I read somewhere that people tend to develop obsessions when they’re
trying to replace something. I’m still not quite sure what I was trying to
replace; home or family perhaps, or some rose-coloured version of the two. I
often find myself missing things I’ve never lost - yearning for memories I’ve
never made.
My mom recently started using facebook. In her profile picture I look like a very caring son. The internet is a strange place - a one way mirror - a room you can enter unnoticed and unannounced, only making your presence known when you feel ready to do so. Social networking sites are even stranger. You can let in as many people as you feel comfortable with, having virtually complete control over what you share and what you don’t. Old classmates, fresh acquaintances and distant relatives alike all pass through our personal terminals, carrying on with their daily lives; a part of but also distinctly apart from ours. Some live across the hall, others - halfway across the world. Every page is littered with tiny windows into alternate worlds - ones with suns that don’t set so quickly.
My mom recently started using facebook. In her profile picture I look like a very caring son. The internet is a strange place - a one way mirror - a room you can enter unnoticed and unannounced, only making your presence known when you feel ready to do so. Social networking sites are even stranger. You can let in as many people as you feel comfortable with, having virtually complete control over what you share and what you don’t. Old classmates, fresh acquaintances and distant relatives alike all pass through our personal terminals, carrying on with their daily lives; a part of but also distinctly apart from ours. Some live across the hall, others - halfway across the world. Every page is littered with tiny windows into alternate worlds - ones with suns that don’t set so quickly.
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