Consumption Guilt
We spend more and more time consuming other peoples’ life by-products: subscribing to their blogs, reading their tweets, looking at their photos.
I don’t create enough in my day to day: I’m tired of seeing everyone else’s muse expressed, and not indulging mine.
Worse though, is how widespread this is: it reaches far further than my own little immature existential crisis. Too many of us aren’t producing anything worthwhile: not making art, not writing anything interesting or thought-provoking, not contributing anything more than body heat to the collective human existence.
Our generation is going to start feeling guilty about that. It should. We’re wrapped up in meta-meta-meta-news, republishing and reblogging the commentary on another blog about some article written discussing some article. It’s just miserable, watching the same regurgitated bits float across the wire, only barely modified from one URL to the next.
Write a letter to an old friend. Take a photo, even if it is just of your cat. Shoot a video. Skateboard down a mountain. Hike back up it. Define your existence in your own terms, not as a combinatoric equation of other peoples’ lives.
Fuck meta. Go make something.
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