Unrecorded experience is useless in the eyes of this generation but the value of content is about equal to a piece of toilet tissue. It’s troubling to think that people see no value in their thoughts when they are just thoughts. Thoughts become ideas that become actions that become the fibers that make up a life.
The media presents the adolescent mind as fragile, aren’t all teenagers just one tweet away from suicide? Teenage life sucks; your brain is still building itself as you’re building up sexual frustration and oil soaked pores. How is this news?
Across the board it seems as though there is an increase in mindless sensitivity. Teens especially flock to the Internet as a means of creating an identity. If you calculated the number of hours I spent from age 12 to 19 honing my Myspace or god forbid, my Vampirefreaks profiles with custom HTML and the kawaii-est blingees the number would be staggering.
Is it true that I spent my formative years in a virtual fish tank being judged mercilessly by my peers? I guess so. Did I experience symptoms of anxiety and depression? Sure. Was being a teenager hell? Obviously.
Posting on social media is like rubbing one out. With the power of masturbation being all consuming in most teen’s lives you can see where things could start to get a little messy. The juice you get from seeing all those names under your Instagram selfie feels damn good…until you look in the mirror and see that without an impossibly vintage filter your skin looks hideous.
In the past there were simply two kinds of kids in high school. The pretty ones and the rejects. Now even the rejects are held to the same standard as the pretty people among the land of the Internet.
As a reject this can be a good or a bad thing. You can find your own celebrities among your social group online. I was obsessed with a gender queer cyber goth that went to a school nearby. I never saw him in person but his profile was flawless and that was enough encouragement for me. It was attainable. Being a sexy rebel wasn’t just for the likes of Dita Von Teese that decorated my walls. I plucked out my eyebrows and got endless makeup tips from my make believe online social circle.
‘Where does one find hot pink PVC shorts?’
‘Let me show you my friend.’
It was awesome.
I never gave a single fuck about what new Abercrombie jeans the school slut was wearing – I had found something so cool that even the cool people couldn’t understand it. They were afraid of it and the juice you get when people are scared of you is the sweetest.
This is where I can understand the plight of the faggot or the gender ambiguous. Maybe kids thought I was a freak for wearing plastic cords in my hair and listening to German techno but at least I didn’t look like a boy, I wasn’t fat, stupid, ugly, poor or something other than white. So being a self-identifying femme lesbian wasn’t the worst card I could have been dealt – I got dates, I carved out some kind of identity within the confines of high school.
Kids are tougher than you think. We all have pretty big balls to get past those couple of years where hormones make everyone we know a mix between cruel and depressed. It hurts when another kid calls you a worthless piece of faggot shit but in the back of your mind…you know he’s just some asshole kid at your school. But what if you hear that from your parents? Or other adults? Or from your church? Or your government? What hope do you have after you graduate?
I think alienated gay kids should spend MORE time online. Just get out of their tiny circle for a moment. Get off Instagram and get onto a forum or a blog – get into a show or a band or a subculture – chat with other freaks, get some semblance of hope that after high school none of these people will matter and they will probably all have 2 snot nosed kids by 22, never leave your shitty town and work in an office. You, on the other hand, will be in the big city with a bunch of other fabulous misfits using the beautiful mind your developed while everyone else was busy being cool.