The Internet is a great thing. It's informative. It's amazing for communication. It makes things fast as hell. Last week, I was like, "I really want to read this book," and then two seconds later, I owned that book and was reading it. (y'all, I'm a new Kindle owner). It's pretty incredible, the Internet.
But the good ol' world wide web sometimes seems like it's a front. How much of what is on it is reality? Do we really care that much about dead lions — or do we only care enough to write a few words about it on Facebook and then return to sorting our Netflix queue for 30 minutes? Am I guilty of doing that? Totally.
Lately, I've read so many articles about social media façades and how people have felt pressure to make their lives seem perfect when really they were having a very tough time. Elsie from A Beautiful Mess wrote recently about cyber bullying based on personal experiences and called on her readers to pledge to not bully. There's even a psychological term, "the fear of missing out", or FoMo (because of course there's an acronym), that is exacerbated by social media and has been written about ad nauseam. And recently, blogger Bri from designlovefest wrote candidly about how she felt about people telling her that she has "the best life!" only to have her readers question her curation of a happy lifestyle (it led to a very interesting discussion).
Is the Internet making us unhappy? Do mean comments and the perception that everyone else is living a perfect fantasy life except for us making us question our own choices? This is a fine line.