Words, no pictures.

There I was, irritating my RSI by scrolling through my instagram account at top speed when suddenly I had a moment. Why exactly was I even looking at some of these photographs?

I joined instagram because I'd been upgraded to an iPhone - albeit a lowly 3GS - and could have some fun with posting pictures. I love it. Also, I have friends who use it and I like keeping up with their days. It's way more enjoyable and accessible than Facebook. From their accounts I'd find other people whose images I enjoyed and admired. Others I'd find through hashtags - it's surprising how many people use #pugzu. But then it crept in...the curiosity factor.

I noticed there were people I was following who posted several times a day and I just watched  them. I wasn't admiring their photography skills because frankly they often don't have any. I wasn't keeping up with their lives because we're friends and I know their friends, kids and/or dogs. They weren't part of my 'dog people' list. They weren't inspiring me and I wasn't leaving them friendly comments. I was just being nosey. I suppose I wanted to know who they're hanging out with, who's friends with who now and who suddenly isn't  commenting on Ms X's account. WTF? When did I get so stupidly petty? And when did I have time to waste on this nonsense? I certainly didn't and don't actually care about it so...what?

In less than a minute I'd unfollowed. It feels a bit as if I stopped watching a soap in the middle of a particularly uninteresting plotline. I almost feel like apologising to the individuals concerned even though for the most part they're follower-hungry and their accounts are not private. Perhaps, because often they post what seems like a series of visual in-jokes, I felt as if I was watching through a window without being able to hear why they were laughing. Invited in but not in. Icky.

I like my instagram again now. It's fun, inspiring and heart-warming. Maybe I need to do the same with other parts of my 'nets. Check with my gut to feel if the connection is a positive one or just one that really contributes nothing to my life or that of the person I'm reading.

Things don't have to be deep and profound and serious to be meaningful but without connection...what matters?