whenever I take a moment to step away from the world of the internet, I get this feeling that the online world is unreal. I almost feel in a daze, or a dream. I feel like the “me” on the Internet isn’t real – it’s a mere phantom, or an online persona. I don’t feel like I’m her. She feels like a completely different person and I don’t recognise her words; I am surprised at what she has written. I am surprised at how different she sounds.
I’ve written on blogs before and I’ve always gotten the feeling that the online me is uncannily, unbelievably friendly and stable and lighthearted and funny and talented. None of these are bad. In fact, in many ways, I love my online persona. But my real self has something she doesn’t – heart. Rawness. This girl feels fake. She feels “plastic”. She’s nice but she’s not me. She doesn’t make me feel anything.
I think this is a part of what causes the dysphoria between my online and real selves. But I get this feeling not only with myself but with the whole internet. It feels fake. It feels technological and altogether too neat and clean and shiny. Reality is gritty and crude and messy and earthy and rude.
Maybe there is a problem with my calling the online world “unreal”. Why should it be unreal? If you have felt something online, why can’t it be real? And I have. I have read beautiful, crushing, raw stuff online.
But maybe that is the problem. So much on the Internet is not raw and not gritty. It’s been airbrushed. Or maybe not everybody wants that kind of gritty life and the Internet is a refuge for them. More power to them. They are perfectly welcomed to use it. Maybe their lives are also different, maybe they really are clean and shiny and that’s not wrong either. My words might seem negative but believe me I don’t mean them that way.
But me, I want something raw. More than that, I want something painful and deep and bloody. I want the truth.
I want to feel life for myself. Really. I want to feel the blood and the guts and the gore. It makes me feel alive.