this poem has no filter

I need to post an insta pic for today!

Do you have an instagram?

Oh, post that on instagram!

Wait, not yet. I need to wait until 9 PM.

That way, I'll get more likes.

What hashtags should I use?


There is, perhaps, a hubris in this. A folly of all humans, but of course, I won't admit that. Not to you. The only secret I shall not reveal more than my self righteousness is that this perceived excess of confidence is not an excess at all. It is a demonstration that, yes, we as a society either shun self love or do not praise it enough. Like my photo, go ahead. I've had a bad day, but if I see that magic number hit 100, I know that someone out there is viewing my life and putting faith in the beauty of it. Maybe I can aspire to reach what I say my life is. Thank you for giving me hope. I will never let you know though, because I am drowning in hubris.


I seek aesthetic, beauty, grace. I want and yearn and wish to be enchanting, to be full of allure. But above all, what I prize most is approval. I want to know. I want to have confirmation that you think I am beautiful. Not this filter, not this lighting. But me. Please, let me know that I am gorgeous the way I am.


Listen to me. Can't you hear my cries? I seek attention, but our society shuns this notion. This idea that as humans, we require companionship and nurturing to learn empathy. If you follow me, you receive a stream of my life, a piece of my soul. What more could I offer? I want you to know me. I want you to remember me. That's all.


Look, I was not always the way I am. The past was beautiful. And just because you leave something does not mean you leave it behind. The end of the week is nearing as my past drifts farther and farther away. I think there is something astral in that.


Centuries, decades, even just a few years ago, our faces could not be so easily immortalized. Sit still for portraits, set up the dark room for the photograph. Muster up some courage and ask that stranger to take photograph of us. And it has evolved beyond our faces. I am not afraid to take a selfie, to know that an ugly, ugly stereotype of unintelligence and vanity has sprouted from this pop culture trend. I am instead, and wisely so, afraid that I may one day believe the same thing myself.

This poem is about: 
Our world


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