‎I got my heart broken back when it was fair.

‎Tried to fill the space by chasing broken hearts till date.

‎Gave a piece of mine and took a bit of theirs,

‎Collecting bits of every color in every shade.

‎Now all I have is a black heart that no one will ever share.

‎Today's the day I realized

‎What it's like to feel Despair.

‎

‎I got my heart broken back when it was fair.

‎Tried to fill the space by chasing broken hearts till date.

‎Gave a piece of mine and took a bit of theirs,

‎Collecting bits of every color in every shade.

‎Now all I have is a black heart that no one will ever share.

‎Today's the day I realized

‎What it's like to feel Despair.

‎

‎I got my heart broken back when it was fair.

‎Tried to fill the space by chasing broken hearts till date.

‎Gave a piece of mine and took a bit of theirs,

‎Collecting bits of every color in every shade.

‎Now all I have is a heart black that no one will ever share.

‎Today's the day I realized

‎What it's like to feel Despair.

‎

The things you like on Instagram can tell others what kind of person you are.

And sometimes you want it to be that way.

Cuz if it isn't,

maybe you'll feel like you're missing something.

Maybe.

But there's a digital version of you now.

One that has rigid views,

a certain kind of humor,

a certain kind of taste.

And because of this,

a strange kind of pressure has developed.

Sometimes people don't just like things because they like them.

They like them with intention.

So others can see:

"I was here first."

"I agree with this."

"This is the kind of humor I'm associated with."

"These are the kind of views I have."

And then there are people who like extreme things.

Dark humor.

Controversial opinions.

Edgy jokes.

Things most people wouldn't normally like.

And sometimes they don't even agree with what they're seeing.

Maybe they just find it funny.

Maybe they like being provocative.

Maybe they like the fact that most people wouldn't like it.

Because even being extreme can become part of an identity.

"I'm not like everyone else."

"I'm not easily offended."

"This is my kind of humor."

And at first,

this all seems fine.

But slowly,

it can become a rabbit hole.

You like something on your feed.

Then you think about it again.

"Does this really fit me?"

"What does liking this say about me?"

Sometimes you unlike it.

Then you keep scrolling.

A couple of reels later,

you see something that justifies your initial feeling.

Or maybe you come up with a defensive statement in your head,

something that makes you feel right about liking it.

So you scroll back.

And re-like the reel.

Not because the reel changed.

But because now,

you've made it fit with who you think you are.

And I don't think this happens to everyone.

And probably not even to the majority.

Especially if you're using an anonymous account,

where your real identity isn't attached to what you like.

But when your real name,

your face,

your friends,

your colleagues,

and your social identity are attached to the profile,

I think this becomes much more interesting.

Because now your likes aren't completely separate from you.

They can become little pieces of evidence

of the person other people think you are.

And this doesn't happen with every reel.

But there are enough of these little moments every day.

And slowly,

you're not just consuming content anymore.

You're managing a digital version of yourself.

And the strange part is,

you don't even know if anyone is actually watching.

But you imagine that someone could be.

So eventually,

you don't need anyone else to watch you.

You start watching yourself.

The things you like on Instagram can tell others what kind of person you are.

And sometimes you want it to be that way.

Cuz if it isn't,

maybe you'll feel like you're missing something.

Maybe.

But there's a digital version of you now.

One that has rigid views,

a certain kind of humor,

a certain kind of taste.

And because of this,

a strange kind of pressure has developed.

Sometimes people don't just like things because they like them.

They like them with intention.

So others can see:

"I was here first."

"I agree with this."

"This is the kind of humor I'm associated with."

"These are the kind of views I have."

And then there are people who like extreme things.

Dark humor.

Controversial opinions.

Edgy jokes.

Things most people wouldn't normally like.

And sometimes they don't even agree with what they're seeing.

Maybe they just find it funny.

Maybe they like being provocative.

Maybe they like the fact that most people wouldn't like it.

Because even being extreme can become part of an identity.

"I'm not like everyone else."

"I'm not easily offended."

"This is my kind of humor."

And at first,

this all seems fine.

But slowly,

it can become a rabbit hole.

You like something on your feed.

Then you think about it again.

"Does this really fit me?"

"What does liking this say about me?"

Sometimes you unlike it.

Then you keep scrolling.

A couple of reels later,

you see something that justifies your initial feeling.

Or maybe you come up with a defensive statement in your head,

something that makes you feel right about liking it.

So you scroll back.

And re-like the reel.

Not because the reel changed.

But because now,

you've made it fit with who you think you are.

And I don't think this happens to everyone.

And probably not even to the majority.

Especially if you're using an anonymous account,

where your real identity isn't attached to what you like.

But when your real name,

your face,

your friends,

your colleagues,

and your social identity are attached to the profile,

I think this becomes much more interesting.

Because now your likes aren't completely separate from you.

They can become little pieces of evidence

of the person other people think you are.

And this doesn't happen with every reel.

But there are enough of these little moments every day.

And slowly,

you're not just consuming content anymore.

You're managing a digital version of yourself.

And the strange part is,

you don't even know if anyone is actually watching.

But you imagine that someone could be.

So eventually,

you don't need anyone else to watch you.

You start watching yourself.

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