Mister Judge, i decline to accept this demand.
I refuse to participate and get tangled in this montage to which, under my consideration, i have been dragged by mister Zuckerberg, Systrom and Spiegel.
I admit it though, at some point it was a somewhat voluntary drag. But that does not entitle these gentlemen to take away the dignity with which i decide to retire and survive this supposedly hyperconnected universe.
And no, if you may wander, i don’t do it because i am something like a hermit. I am just a young man from a third-world country, or “on track to development” as our president says, that opened he’s eyes one morning and realized that he fell like an infant in arms of this contemporary Big Brother.
I would like to say to the plaintiffs, those who accuse me for ‘neglect of duties”, that it is no longer of my interest to continue submitting myself to the Roman Coliseum they have created. You tell me, who, compos mentis, would like to participate on this cyber-coliseum to be subject of ridicule, amusement and judgement of all the spectators?
Of my consideration, this is the wildest form of masochism to which we submit our poor and damaged self-esteem that, ignoring other agents such as neoliberalism and communism, have already been sufficiently damaged by others, and by ourselves, our whole lives.
And despite that i acknowledge that the sensation of feeling watched and admired by other beings can be addictive, the cowardly murmur that the masses are waging when you are not paying attention to them, is and will be what will determine before the world, virtual at least, the type of consideration that you will provoke in it. And no, I refuse to submit myself voluntarily to that scrutiny.
It is true, in some way all the individuals that play a part on this “community”, or “village” as the most refined would say, are equally responsible for letting ourselves be dragged into this court of the superficial and the unimportant matters. Cause let’s face it, this will not be the place where we show our best version, but rather a poor replica that we bought in some other first-world platform that, as usual, intends to dictate what we should want to become.
If you respectfully allow me to delve into some of my reasons to quit this macabre cyberplace, I would like to tell you that it is partly because I feel deeply disappointed with my own behavior and previous decisions. I am embarrassed and sorry for the videos parodying my peers, the selfies without reason or sense, the googlean poetry and the “artistic” pictures taken from my iPhone 7.
Can i confess something? This situation causes me as much anger as frustration. Because i cannot understand how it can be possible that we are failing so much to each other as a society (myself included). We are becoming more and more visibly invisible and we go through life swearing that everyone cares to know what happened after your camera stopped recording that ‘ig stories’.
Perhaps all the millions of members, or “users” as these tyrants would say, do not recall that famous little phrase that says: “you should not judge a book by its cover”. Because, in these networks, you get the feeling that some prefer to be a cover more than a book.
I can only imagine the face of fright that Shakespeare would have put if his critics had filled with praise the cover of Hamlet, without even reading its first act. Or the cry in the sky that Lennon and McCartney would have put when they found out that people were buying Sgt. Peppers, because the lid made a nice and worthy of framing piece on the wall of their houses.
Personally, i would be incredibly embarrassed to meet this genius and tell him — Hey Sir Paul, tremendous cover that of Sgt. Peppers. You made it! — . I think a statement like that would undermine any possibility of him accepting me as a friend … or at least that we take a selfie together.
Nor do i say that i can even compare to Sir Paul or Sir Shakespeare, but i can definitely relate to that feeling of wanting to be more than what you see at first sight.
i want to believe that i don’t withdraw myself because i have nothing interesting to say, but rather because the best i have to offer does not fit in a few characters or in a selfie in a bathroom or elevator.
That is why i ask you ladies and gentlemen of the jury, Mister Judge, audience; Deny this demand that is imputed to me and allow me to go on with my life without continually devouring data out of my internet plan or space out of the fragile memory of my phone. I request you to allow me to have something to say, wherever i want and whenever i want to say it. I beg for mercy before my mind and anxieties, that enjoy excessively not letting me sleep with their infinite concerns.
I ask you to set me free, so i can start living once and for all … this time without having to ask for the Wi-Fi password in every coffee shop that i go to, like the one where i’m writing this letter.
I will remain attentive to your resolution. Greetings and have a wonderful week.