There is no fun in posting the pictures. What was once sharing experiences has turned into narcissism and greed. A digital feel good pill for those desiring “Z Level” fame. Perhaps it is because I had a life and travelled before the platform existed. Showing  “I am living a great fake life” borders on insane. Carefully curated pictures demonstrating fake joy reminds of the 1970’s sitcom “Brady Bunch”. During my college days people like this were called “MGM”. Meaning, they were fake.

My problem, I hate curating perfect experiences.  I am a what you see is what you get character, loving faults. On Instagram being yourself means a filter, photoshop, and rehearsing.


Instagram has become a place of Prozac Reality. I cringe at some of poses and postings. The extremes people will do to get attention. A space to give those with no talent, appeal, experience, a chance to find popularity. The past two weeks, there were 3 Instagram Influencer scandals. I looked over the accounts of the three “None Appealing Fame Seekers”.

Lost on me!  If I saw any of them on the street I would not look twice. How and why they have thousands of followers escapes me. Most certainly a click farm service in Thailand has their credit card details. Just Saying! Sadly, one of the above Influencer scandal will involve jail time for “Glaming it Up” with a fake credit card. 

Still have not returned to the site, I check it, like a few pictures by friends.   During a campaign I asked my friends to like an images. But for most I am happy to stay off. Life is too short trying to be a full time Carol Brady. Sharing was once fun but evolved into silly, tragic, exhausting, and horrific.

Black and Paper stopped placing content on Instagram. This article was triggered by the site of an “Influencer” who photoshops pictures menus 8 kilos.