Notifications will be the death of you.

Notifications are an ugly bunch. 

Do you get notified about the thousands of seconds that you wasted on Instagram? Do you get notified about how you’re looking at reality through a million pixels and filters? 

NO.

You get notified about the pretty filter uploaded on Instagram. Upon further investigation (By that I mean clicking on the notification and check out the picture.) you realize it’s actually a photo of a genuinely pretty girl, with an ungodly ugly filter. Or just an ugly gal with an ugly filter. 

You get notified about the likes you got on your recent picture. It’s all fun and games with dopamine until you ascertain the number of people who just scrolled by, or misclicked the photo.
But don’t you worry, Instagram won’t notify you of that. It cares about you, immensely (and the data you give it so willingly).

You get notified about a recent follower. You presumably have no answer as to why would you want someone following you, but Instagram says its a good thing, so it probably is.

Here’s a thought experiment, 

What if someone were to emulate your failures? Would you be worried? Would you be terrified to actually see the reality of yourself through your own eyes? Would you be amused?

You get notified about the picture Kathy just posted of her dog. What the dog has to do with the inspirational caption below is an enigma. But was it worth the 2 minutes? Let‘s agree, even the 2 minutes is a lie. The notification likely let you down a rabbit hole and you‘ve been scrolling for 2 hours ever since the notification came through. 

Scrolling the feed of #dogs for 2 hours is justified. But encouraging it through enabled notifications is not.  

 

You get notified about the weather through the stories of a long-lost, utterly tasteless friend of yours.

You get notified about the Gucci undergarment your favorite celebrity just bought.

You get notified about the recent vacation your friend is on.

You get notified about the recent fued of Taimur khan with Kareena because she made him eat his veggies.

You get notified about the date your catfished friend is on.

You get notified about the overpriced, scammy coffee your friend is drinking.

You get notified about the 1 in a 100 photo Sharon posted of her posing in the trashy washroom.

You get notified about what’s going on in the world.

But you also get notified about the memes mocking the very incident.

You get notified about a motivational post your friend posted.

Yeah, the one who cannot for the life of them, wake up before 12 pm.

You get notified about how your friend is struggling with bad mental health.

You don’t get notified about how no one reached out to him.

But you do get notified about how depression is a major cause of suicide in the current society.

You get notified about the outing your friends had, the one when they forgot to invite you.

Notifications are an ugly bunch. They lure you in. They demand you to pick up your device. They’re designed to capture your attention. The peculiar pings and sounds are engineered to grab your attention. They are crafted in a way, so as to keep you trapped.

Why on earth would let an inanimate object dictate your actions? 

Social media as a whole isn’t all that bad. Hypocrisy is scattered throughout this article, but it’s not far from the truth. We’re all victims of this inevitable epidemic. All we can do is reduce the collateral it causes.

Disabling the notifications won’t harm you. You shouldn’t need to know about something unless you desire it.

Be the commander of your thoughts and actions and don’t fucking complain about boring your life is.

Instagram is a rosy cheerful place where the viewers are miserable and  posters are happy.
Ever so often, they switch places.
Only if the posters were sad and the viewers were happy. The world would’ve been a much better place to live in.

 

DISABLE THE GODDAMN NOTIFICATIONS, YOU DON’T NEED TO KNOW ABOUT THE 100th BREAKUP OF BELLA HADID OR YOUR DUMB LOVESICK FRIEND.

 

also, make sure you follow me on instagram. Dm me a ❤ and be sure to turn on my post notifications. Turn the others off.
Thank you. Love you. Bye.

Relatable (A poem dedicated by that ‘relatable’ friend)

You can trust me, I’m hella relatable.
I’m super relatable.
Every opinion of yours is debatable,
While mine are invincible.
Your self esteem is super accessible.
Looking down on you, I’m really relatable.
I’m super relatable.

I might be better than you,
But I’m really relatable.
You’re an anomaly, you’re really defeatable.
While I’m the adaptable.
I’m the superior but I’m relatable.
I’m super relatable.

Your insecurities are hella contractible.
You’re uttterly incompatible.
For this society, I am the natural.
The alpha, the better, the demandable.
I am infallible. I am the implacable.
But I’m hella relatable.
In every situation, I can relate to you.
I’m super relatable.

Your weaknesses are very relatable.
Your inferiority is laughable.
Your state is pitiful, but I relate to you.
So don’t get better and know that I relate to you.
So don’t try and change because I relate to you.
I’m the companion, I really relate to you.

I pretend to be your friend, I stay relatable.
When you feel miserable, I’ll be the one saying ‘I feel you dude’
Because I’m super relatable. I’m making you comfortable.
I’m making you weak, I’m really relatable.
I’m better off, but I’ll lie to you.
I’ll be better, but still be relatable.

You might be admirable.
Your skills so niche, so affable.
So super compatible. So fashionable.
Matchable, valuable, but in a way relatable.
I’ll keep you down make you feel relatable.
The moment you feel miserable,
I’ll be around.
I’ll be relatable. I’ll push you down and make myself projectable.
I’m super relatable.

 

So stay where you are, stay absolutely miserable.
For you I’ll stay miserable. For me it’s practical.
I’ll push you down and stay relatable.
While I’m flying high, I’ll stay relatable.
Keep complaining, You’re highly collapsible.
I’ll stay relatable. I’ll succeed but stay super relatable.
I’m super relatable.

 

 

 

 

Dear friend

Amicizia-768x480

Dear friend,
We’ve had our scuffles,
We’ve had our fights.
You stuck around every time.
You’re the person, I’m glad to call a friend of mine.

You never needed anything in return for making me smile.
You’re the purest person that comes to mind.
Yeah, you might need the money I borrowed from you but that’s alright.
We’re friends after all, you’ll forget about that after a petty fight.

I turn to you when I seek advice.
I turn to you when I want to speak my mind.
It’s almost as if you don’t listen to a word of mine.
Until you reply with a remark, about how I’m wrong and you are right.
Right as always. 

You’re a great money lender, its not the only reason you’re a friend of mine.
I’ll surely return the money I owe you, I might not do it in time.
Let’s not let materialistic things control this relationship between you and I.

Not bound by commitment, I feel strangely connected.
It breaks my heart, to find you dejected.
I feel responsible; I know I’m supposed to make things alright.
But talking about feelings always feels eerie.
Instead of asking, I’ll guess what makes you feel dreary.
Then through an intuitive maneuver I’ll try to get in your mind.
I’ll never be invasive, but I’ll surely make you feel alright.

You’re the reason I feel ugly.
You’re the reason I constantly try to dress nice.
Yet, every time I look a little bright.
“You look like a clown” is what you say, feeling a little jealous inside.

You’re special.
You’re irreplaceable. At times, you’re extremely nice.
To make me human, you’re presence would suffice.
You’re unique; you’re one of a kind.
You’re the most amazing person; I’ve met in my entire life.
I may never convey my feelings but I hope you realize.
I wouldn’t be me, without you by my side.

So why worry about petty little things?
We can’t let a debt intervene our joyful life.
I might never return the money I owe you.
But we’re good friends now.
Isn’t that nice?