Skip to main content

Screen time

Here's the way I see it. This social media thing.

I look through a tinted window at all the people I follow. I see their pictures, read their blogs, watch their vlogs and laugh at their snaps. I can see them, but they can't see me. Sometimes, I tap on the window - a comment, a picture, a like - and someone who I follow, follows me back. Then we have opened the window and we can see each other. We can communicate.

Each one of the people who I see through my window is facing the other way. Looking out through a window of their own, experiencing their own social media world. They are watching their own little show - handpicked to fit their interests and likes. Occasionally they look around and through the open windows have a chat with their friends, with me or you. 

Sometimes we forget that our windows are tinted though. That what I see through mine is very different from yours. Especially when we tap on the window and say "Hi, I see you!" and find that the window is soundproof. Maybe they just didn't hear us. Or maybe they did, but they're feeling a bit chilly and don't want to open the window.  In many cases, we don't bother waving through the window. We are just happy to have a look out and see what's happening out there and then go back to live our own lives.

It's a weird concept isn't it? To think that we spend our screen time (gives a new meaning to this I suppose) building up an afinity with people who don't know we exist? And likewise that people are watching you through their windows without you knowing it (unless you have built a wall with your security settings). That the people we like following aren't necessarily those who you'd want to have a real connection or conversation with and vice versa.

I suppose there is nothing wrong with that, although I do find that the open windows are a lot more refreshing and the view is just slightly clearer. Wave if you're out there!





Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Social media - a young person's game?

Only vain, young people would consider living their life broadcasted on various social media platforms. And no one would watch anyone older than the age of 25 blog, vlog or snapchat about their life as surely, someone that old couldn't possibly have anything interesting to talk about. Scanning places like Instagram, youtube and snapchat, it would certainly seem that way. Short of some "yummy mummy does the school run in style" type accounts these places seem largely populated by young, child-free fashion and beauty bloggers/vloggers. Where are the women in their thirties, forties and fifties to follow? Granted, it's not too hard to find some stylish people on Instagram, but a picture isn't the same as a blog or a vlog. I am quite enjoying the youtube vlogs of the youngsters, but would love to see some people my age on there too. It seems they are hard to find. Are we just too busy to consider publishing content on a media platform that requires more than...

Unfinished

As a child I had a go at so many sports: tennis, judo, athletics, badminton, horse riding. I've done them all. And probably many more which I have already erased from my memory. I've gone to hours and hours of music lessons, piano lessons and music history lessons. And yet, after all these years I'd struggle to be decent at any of these things. One of my childhood assessments pretty much came out with this conclusion: I can get quite good at things with ease, but don't have the stamina to finish things or become great at them. It's a recurring theme in my life, this "not finishing things". I gave up university for love (that was my excuse anyway, maybe the option of moving abroad was easier and more convenient than admitting that I didn't like being at university). I used to get told off for always leaving a tiny bit of food on my plate (unless it's cake of course, I'm not daft). I have yet to pick up my professional accountancy education ...

Stuff it.

Ever feel like you just want someone to come and remove all the junk from your house? The stuff: the kids toys they never play with (but happily scatter around the house); the unread books,  the clothes we've outgrown (yet the kids will still pull out, discard in the washing basket unworn for you to wash over and over unknowingly); the things lurking in drawers and cupboards; the things you trip over in the garage. The stuff. This minimalist, Scandi-style is all the rage lately. But after having spent 3 years aiming to reduce the amount of clutter in our house, I can only conclude that I have been defeated. We seem to bring in far more than we get rid off. It's so tempting to get the black bin liners out and just swoop from room to room chucking everything out. Because it's the sorting through, the planning how and where to take things to (tip, charity shop, donate etc) that takes up all the time and makes me loose the will to live. OK, maybe not to live, but at least...