I understand that we all love ourselves and are fully convinced we’re the most interesting slap of skin since creation, but for the love of all things actually interesting, please don’t update me that you’re going to class and then have work afterwards. Oh, and then tell me to “text it” because you’re bored. Every single move you make does not need to be told to the world. You are not that enthralling. The obsession with telling everyone every single detail of your life needs to stop. Our egos are exploding and we seem to forget we’re not the center of the universe.

The oughties generation (the decade between 2000 and 2010) brought with it a heightened belief in individualism and a spike in narcissism. We have control over how we are perceived more than ever and it’s biting us in the arse. We’ve gone from a holistic, collectivist approach where we align ourselves with others and work together to a constant battle to reassure others, and ourselves, that we are worthy of attention. And that this is qualified by constant badgering of the insignificant details of our lives.

Making a passive-aggressive swipe at your recent ex-significant other doesn’t empower you or make you witty; it makes you look bitter and desperate for attention. Telling me you’re at Acme, Cinemark or the local bar doesn’t interest anyone. Professing all your personal, innermost emotions sucks the life right out of them. When a real problem arises in your life, you will confide in those closest to you. When you choose to confide in public opinion, you just want to be coddled and have your ego stroked. There’s no real life advice going on.

Checking in at every single place you go on foursquare does not qualify as having a social life. Facebook‘s Places is just as much of a train wreck. Competing over how many places you go to and how often you are there is an arbitrary game to fuel our Web 2.0 induced pretension. I promise you that you can go to the grocery store without telling everyone, and we won’t think any less of you.

I understand the sentiment and desire to spill your emotions. We all have bad days, and sometimes we just want someone to tell us everything is OK or that we’re right. I’m as guilty as you are—I do love my Twitter account. But please, get a diary. Take some time for self-contemplation and become more aware of who you are, not how others perceive you. And next time you think it’s worthwhile to tell everyone you are out buying sandpaper, rethink how interesting that really is.

Matthew Colwell is a junior integrated language arts major and columnist for the Daily Kent Stater. Contact him at [email protected].