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7 Aug 2013


We all have such collosal egos that need to be stroked and coddled every once in a while.

From gazillion likes on a strategically clicked and masterfully edited Facebook profile picture to carefully crafted tweets that make us and our lives look and sound so much cooler than it actually is to updates and chitchat about how happening we and our lives are - we are so bothered about putting out a good image of ourselves that the lines between what we really are and what we choose to project become blurred.

Making memories have taken backseat to snapping at anyone who questions our cool factor. Saying inappropriate things will get you retweets, cussing out the opposition will let people know you are not to be messed with. Fight with your friends to upload the pictures of the trip to the beach you spent taking pictures to upload, instead of digging your feet in the sand and giving yourself up to the waves.

I have been guilty too, I am not excluding myself out of anything. Varying degrees.
But once in a while, I look at my pictures I took from ten years ago, think back to the person I was then, the things that used to run in my head then and the kind of genuineness that colored every one of my actions. Simple, happy-go-lucky, restless to learn and experiment and with an undying love for books - I was what I want me to be now.

And I wonder where this current version, who judges and classifies people based on their language skills and the amount of books they read, came from.

My compliments are still genuine, my projection of myself is not so much.
But.... what if I let someone in and give them the power to break me with their critical gaze? With their toxic comments?
What if they judge me for my tastes, the way I live, the friends I have, the music I listen to? What if they judge me for being me and I don't match up to the standards they set?

Isn't that what we all are afraid of when we carefully cover reality with Photoshop, sarcasm and well-done make-up. And maybe that's where the 'ego' stems from.