Hello, and good morning. It is a beautiful April day with temperatures scheduled to hit upwards of 20-something at approximately–
And okay, good. They’re gone. “They,” of course, being the people whose Instagram photos I want to comment on but do not comment on because I am a grown-up adult who claims not to love drama. (And I mean, I don’t really love drama — not when it pertains to me. Other people’s drama, I really enjoy watching if I’m honest, so please continue, everybody else.) And because it is nice out and we’re days out of park photos and whatever-the-hell-else everyone documents from May through September, here is my guide. My guide to the comments you want to leave but never do but think out loud. Or: as I like to professionally call it, “Using this piece to say all the things I wish I could say but can’t without seeming incredibly off-side.”
“Who is this?”
Who is this person you are with? Why didn’t you tag them? Are they a famous? Should I know? Can you just give me some context? Should I be jealous of this? Or is this just a person you know with a very nice jacket? Why are you documenting this? Where are you? Are you honestly just captioning this with an Emoji?
“Are you dating?”
Are you? Are you guys dating? Are you two a couple? I don’t care, I just want to know. Or maybe I do care. Maybe I’m trying to suss out the situation for a friend or for myself, and now you’ve created a shit-ton of questions and now I’m deep-diving into April 2012 in an attempt to figure out how you know each other. So thanks a lot, you’re wasting my time.
“Give me back my son”
Whenever you post a baby photo it is all I can do not to say this. I don’t care if you have a little girl. “Give me back my daughter” sounds less funny to me, a person alone in her room, scrolling through Instagram and I make the rules, so here we are.
On 85% of all photos, I want to say this. I want to ask it and I want to shout it. What are you doing? Why are you doing this? What is the point? Why? Who? Why?
“WE GET IT”
We get it, you’re doing it. You’ve got one. It’s happened. You’re living. WE GET IT. It’s fine. You’re cool! Is that what you want me to say? Do you want me to type “cool” beneath this photo of you doing it is that makes me want to shout, “WOW OKAY WE GET IT” instead of clicking like? Do you want a comment? Here. Here’s your comment. WE GET IT. YOU’RE OUTDOORS.
This can also be swapped out with “nope!” and “absolutely not.” Sometimes it is interchangeable with “What the fuck?” but only if I need a nap.
“Why didn’t you invite me”
I say this out loud to every photo of two or more people laughing. I don’t care if we’re strangers. Why didn’t you invite me? I’m fun and I’m interesting and I just got an A in my history class, so what the hell? Is it something I said or did? Did you hear something about me? It isn’t true, I swear. Or maybe it is, but it only happened that one time. Who did you hear it from? The person you’re with in the photograph? They’re not better than me. I hate them. I’m better.
“You’re not better than me”
You’re not. No one is. One time I wish at the mall with my friend Josh and I said this very loudly and the whole cafe went quiet and honestly the only regret I have is that I didn’t say it louder.
“Please follow me back”
My photos are always perfect and never, ever illicit any responses outside of “Anne, this is beautiful and your feed is beautiful and you are beautiful, please never, ever, ever change.” Everything I post is like art. My taste is flawless. My feed is calming. I am calming. This was calming. Maybe not for you. But it was calming for me, and that’s what matters.
But okay please follow me back, I’ll like all your photos.