Wednesday, 13 May 2015

Love. After Instagram.

This is something I've been toying with before I was active on Instagram/WhatsApp.

To see her was to want her. To want her was to love her. To love her was to become a slave to her heart. And to my own desires.

After I discovered Instagram, the lines morphed into:

To see her was to watch her pictures on Instagram and then to want her. To watch her pictures online meant to turn on my cell phone's data. To turn on my data meant lesser battery and bigger bills. To do all this. To do even more and still not complain. And still watch my heart slow down at her sight meant I loved her. To love her was to become a slave to her heart and my desires. Never mind the additional burden of a bigger cell phone bill.

PS: Saw something similar to the pre-instagram part in Jonathan Franzen's The Corrections. Felt over the moon. Now if only she cared about Franzen.
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