The Phantom Gaze
Jun. 14th, 2022 10:08 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
letterstonowhere So much of our life is displayed online. The pressure to put up a facade on the internet through curated and not-so curated social media posts is constant. Even when we do our best to keep it as "genuine" as possible, it still falls flat.
I feel as if there is constantly someone watching my every move and inner thought over my shoulder. I turn around, no one is there. Yet why can't I shake the need to perform, even when alone in my own room? A social media account, especially a "stan" account, is considered more lax than a carefully planned instagram post, but it's a performance all the same. My twitter account is mine, yet I still feel the eyes on me when I hit tweet. It shouldn't matter, because it's my account and I can express my own feelings. Yet the nonexistent eyes boring into the back of my head don't leave me alone.
I know it's most important to write for myself. I don't share most of my work with others. The only person who sees it is is me and my google drive. Yet I still find myself subconsciously censoring my own thoughts, despite knowing that I can simply never let anyone else read it. I want to write for myself, but I'm held back by a nonexistent force. It's humiliating. If not even my own inner thoughts are safe, what is? When can I draw the curtain? When will the stage lights dim? Why am I trapped in the spotlight no matter what I do or where I go? How do I break free?
I feel as if there is constantly someone watching my every move and inner thought over my shoulder. I turn around, no one is there. Yet why can't I shake the need to perform, even when alone in my own room? A social media account, especially a "stan" account, is considered more lax than a carefully planned instagram post, but it's a performance all the same. My twitter account is mine, yet I still feel the eyes on me when I hit tweet. It shouldn't matter, because it's my account and I can express my own feelings. Yet the nonexistent eyes boring into the back of my head don't leave me alone.
I know it's most important to write for myself. I don't share most of my work with others. The only person who sees it is is me and my google drive. Yet I still find myself subconsciously censoring my own thoughts, despite knowing that I can simply never let anyone else read it. I want to write for myself, but I'm held back by a nonexistent force. It's humiliating. If not even my own inner thoughts are safe, what is? When can I draw the curtain? When will the stage lights dim? Why am I trapped in the spotlight no matter what I do or where I go? How do I break free?