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Nobody Cares About My Instagram; An Amateur Photographer Cries Into His Beautiful Plate of Food

I made a resolution this year to take more photos.

And then I thought about it and realized nobody really gives a shit about my Instagram.

I mean, it's nice that I can document parts of my life in order to appear interesting and busy all the time, but I guess if I'm being truthful, I seriously doubt anybody is checking my Instagram on an hour basis to see if I'm up to anything new--and by anything new, I mean, something that isn't just new but also photogenic.

The plan was to take three photos a day.  Do you have any idea how hard it is to find three things a day to take photos of?  I guess it's easy if you're Annie Liebovitz and Hillary Clinton is standing in front of you holding a baby from Australia and not wearing any pants, but I don't have shit like that happen to me in my everyday life, so instead I took a picture of snow on my car.

Because--I don't know--I like snow?

I deleted the photo from my phone as soon as I posted it, because I just felt so stupid.  Like, what was I memorializing with that?

Snow?
My car?
The fact that I'm too lazy to brush my windshield off?

I immediately tweeted "IT'S SNOWING ON MY CAR!"--which was already really unnecessary.  Did I honestly need to follow it up with a photo?

Plus, if you want to feel like your life is really boring--start taking pictures.  Trust me, you'll be saying the same thing over and over again:

Oh my God, I do the same thing over and over again.

Hang out with the same people (Myself), eat the same things (Cheese and half a bag of pretzels), and go to the same places (My couch and sometimes CVS when I finally run out of pretzels).

Granted, there are things I refuse to do on Instagram:

1)  Any kind of photo of me taken BY me  (I will totally hand the phone to somebody else and demand that they photograph me and then photoshop the shit out of it, but I draw the line at photographing myself in the mirror--let alone with no shirt on).

2)  A photo of me relaxing at my house just living the good life (My rug is filthy and I'm not vacuuming  nor am I letting any of your assholes judge me, so you're going to just have to live in ignorance as far as "the good life" is concerned).

3)  A picture of me and my friends drinking at the bar we always drink at.  I've taken that photo.  No need to take it again eight thousand times just I have photos of us wearing different clothes.  Nothing to see here, move it along, folks.

But even the stuff I do think is worth photographing comes into question when I apply my 2014 Motto to it, which is this:

Nobody really cares.

It's true, watch--

Here's me having an awesome time on vacation! --Nobody really cares.
Here's me holding an adorable dog! --Nobody really cares!
Here's me eating!  --Nobody cares except my mom because she thinks I don't eat enough.

When you view everything under the "Nobody Really Cares" microscope, something like Instagram just seems pointless.  It's just another place to measure our value based on how many people like a photo of us throwing up a peace sign at a Jake Owen concert.

Trust me--

Nobody wants to see that.

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