Aug 30

Aug 30 Letters on Social Media #8

A concerned man looks away from the laptop before him, his fingers in his mouth, his brow furrowed.

Oh, Stewart, I’m in such a discombobulated funk.

I just saw another ‘ambiguous’ comment on Facebook at our recent rural sojourn and I don’t quite know how to respond, if at all. It makes me think you were very wise in advising me to not post anything anywhere about our three other ‘staycays’ this month. However, given the efforts my parents went to in making this trip a real treat for us, how could I have *not* posted? Can you come downstairs and give me a cuddle? xxxxx

A young woman is curled up on a chintzy armchair, looking worriedly at her phone.

Dearest Thea, this is all so awful and scandalous

but I’ve just got to come out with it.

Someone has discovered the source of all my ideas.

I’m aghast. They made a comment two months ago where they likened the Green Room interior to a project in Elise Marina’s virtually unknown ‘Interiors’ (aka my Bible, as you well know), and that gave me a fright (I didn’t know how to respond so I just liked the comment and that was all), but then there was nothing. Until last week! They wrote, ‘Oh, what do you know - your lighting and palate are straight off page 142 of Marina’s ‘Interiors’. She’s a real inspiration to you, eh?’

It put the wind up me - it really did. Every like, comment and share felt like a hammer blow. I’m only used to being hit by dopamine! So this week I tried to use my own ideas. Oh, I know, I know. I’m such a fool. Needless to say, I have not received the 5k+ likes to which I’m accustomed, and I even lost 1k followers. I don’t know what to do! Who else could possibly know Elise Marina’s work so well? She was unheard of even after her untimely death, the book isn’t even in English, and its print run was tiny.

What do I do, Thea? Should I hire a private detective to find out who the commenter is?

Yours,

In mortification and deep sorrow,

Allegra x

A baffled man stands in a street looking at his phone.

Erm.

I clicked on an advert last week by mistake (the feed moved) and now I’ve got constant adverts from super aspirational fitness women doing intense regimes in their front rooms. It’s pretty intimidating tbh. How do I fix the algorithm? Olly

An angry woman looks at her phone. Her face is contorted in rage. Her fist is raised and clenched.

Moon, where are you?

I know you knew about our photoshoot on the river today and there’s no way we can go ahead without our precious Moonbeam there. You know how much I hate those ‘concerned’ comments from other parents who are just trying to steal our sponsors. You don’t want to do that to me, do you darling? We’ll wait another 15 minutes before we start calling round all of your friends, because I know that doesn’t embarrass you one bit. Make sure you wear something cute. I don’t want to see that shapeless green sweater again. Mummy xxxxxxxx

A young man in a cafe looks at his phone with an expression of disdain.

Shaz, I’ve REALLY hit my limit today

and I’m about to go on a MAJOR social media cull. I honestly cannot tell you how sick I am TO THE BACK TEETH of people flaunting their supposedly perfect lives online. Like, WE’RE IN THE MIDDLE OF A PANDEMIC, PEOPLE! Many have died, many have been seriously sick, many are grieving, many are completely skint and facing unemployment or eviction and so much more, and what do these people do? They cannot BEAR to go on their back to back holidays, luxurious dates, have expensive meals or start a major renovation without posting about it constantly online. Because what’s the point in doing anything like that if other people can’t see how amazing your life is? How could you possibly enjoy all your advantages without those who don’t have them bearing witness to your insufferable smugness?

I bet they think they’re being inspiring. Or they want acknowledgement of their role in generously propping up businesses and the economy, like Victorian patrons or something repulsive like that. Whatever they think (and we know they probably don’t!), I’m 100% done with feeling depressed by their lives. Deleting them’s an act of self-care, right?

Love you, Cx

PS. Thanks for letting me vent. OH MY GOD.

Letters on Social Media is a humorous series of fictional letters that aims to explore some of the ways our fragile human minds are ill-equipped to cope with the world of digital communication.

Plans are afoot to turn Letters on Social Media into a micro-podcast. If you would like to record yourself reading one of the letters, I’d be delighted. Just get in touch via the Contact page or via my social media, and I’ll let you know which letters are available.