The Internet People

The Internet People

The internet is an invisible station where everyone is a resident of the same ark, connected through wires and grids across the globe. This digital spacecraft we submerged ourselves into, while seemingly practical and easy, is starting to feel and smell like a threat to me. In this digital chamber where billions of people and strangers are united by a single power line, the secret code used to bypass our individuality is stamped on what we say online. Our vocal mind is more than just an expression — it is a weapon, a weapon that can be used against us.

Words are weapon, they always have been. You can cut someone with a blade and watch them bleed and die, scream in pain and beg for death or you can cut someone with your words and watch them live through the emotional nightmare over and over again. The internet is one such thing. You can mingle with the safe crowd and play it safe or you can explore, venture forth and stumble in the dark. Little did you know, someone is watching you and your every move. You are no longer safe, just like how your honesty is going to compromise your lifespan.

In this game, there are two ways you can play it — one, you can fake a smile, say and post only the happiest shit and don't get involved in anything or two, you can be brave, blunt and honest. Ignoring my own safety, I place myself in zone two and feel like I am part of a resistance. A believer in freedom of speech, I never really care about not playing it safe. Like a renegade who is perfectly aware of why safe is best, I never really cared because I knew, I always knew that the internet is filled with strangers who think they know who you are and what's your worth, strangers who think they can judge you based on a tweet.

It's a difficult process, to be honest on the internet that is. Opinions are venomous, thoughts are dynamites and honesty, honesty will get you killed and stabbed in the back. In theory, it's not rocket science. In reality, it's a hassle to deal with. You think you know how to handle it — when a stranger decided to put words into your mouth, stamp you as the villainous one in the conversation and makes you feel like you need to apologize for something you never meant to say or do — but maybe, it's not that easy to swim against the wave when the wind strikes strong and the current keeps pushing you back to the shore. Next thing you knew, you start questioning yourself: is it my fault? Am I the one who caused this argument? Maybe he/she is right, maybe I am the one at fault.

Here, intonation is difficult and miscommunication is easy. Blind judgment is like blinking, it doesn't take you a lot of time to think before doing it because you just do. Next comes the accusations, the wrong conclusion and the guilt trip you are meant to feel. I have been bypassed and it ripped my patience off of me. I found myself trying not to reveal my anger in public, tried so hard to justify myself. I hate it, having to justify myself towards people who don't know me in real life. Even so, I thought I should...even if the other party refused to listen to me and decided to stick to what they think is right about me.

Everybody knows you don't post unpopular opinions or what you feel online. It's the safest route, they say. That way, you won't be digging your own grave. Perhaps that's true, perhaps that's how I should have played this game. But I didn't. I tweet things because I think about things and I like it best when they are unfiltered — not offensive, just unfiltered and raw. While I know better than to be a transparent image on the internet, I don't think I am willing to lie and fake a happy persona all the time. I get sad, I get emotional and I get depressed and I want to be human by accepting them with opened arms, through tweeting. It's probably a bad idea and I can almost see some of you shaking your head in disapproval. But please, hear me out: I never hopped into The Grid to entertain you. I am no entertainer. I am not your carnival clown who owns and writes a blog to entertain you, tweets on twitter just to make you laugh. I am not your perfect unicorn princess.

I wanted to so badly say that I don't fucking care.

That would be such a pretty little lie and I am not a pretty little liar. The truth is, while I can ignore most shallow judgments, I lost my cool when someone accused me for being depressed and proud, for glamorizing my condition when I'm not. I know I should ignore it because everybody knows you don't deal with haters on the internet — even though it wasn't a hater that I had to face, it was still a similar concept. I think a part of me, the part that feels threatened, is now cowering in fear. I find myself backed against the wall. I can almost hear my anxiety resonating in my room. What if I said something wrong and the other person perceived my message and intonation wrongly? I never meant to say it like that, why did she think I'm being hostile when I'm not? How did this miscommunication even start? 

Maybe it's my anxiety. Maybe I'm too sensitive. Maybe I'm too weak when I should have built myself from iron and steel. Maybe I was the one at fault, maybe I am at fault for being an honest human being. A part of me wanted to be selfish and ask, "why are you making it sound like I was attacking you in the first place when I was only stating what I wanted to say to keep our conversation going?" It's a question I was never brave enough to ask.

I guess, I'm just tired. I'm tired from staying online. I'm tired with the internet people. I'm tired with engaging in a conversation and socializing online. I'm tired with having to justify myself. I'm tired of feeling like a lab rat flinching in fear. I'm tired of people shoving words down my throat. I'm tired of people who think they know me inside out. I'm tired of trying to socialize and have things backfired on me. I don't know where this essay is going but I just feel like I should pour my thoughts out and the safest place to do it is none other than my blog.

My brain is fried. I should go.