Speak No Evil

I read this little post on one of my friend's Facebook walls today that said something along the lines of "10 years ago we'd be upset if someone read our diaries, nowadays we put our diaries online and we're upset if no one reads them". And I just thought to myself "that's so fucking right".

I find myself scanning my newsfeed every morning ignoring the reposts and bullshitty inspo pics, and only really stopping to read the real stuff, the juicy stuff, the goss, the whinging, the raunchy, the confessions, the heartaches... just all of it. It's become a part of my normal everyday routine and I know I'm not alone in this. And if you think about it, it's actually a little bit perverted. It's like new-age, socially-acceptable, nonsexual (well i can't speak for you guys...) voyeurism.

When did it become ok to know everything about everyone? When did we stop enjoying mystery? And how the fuck did we ever start being so interested in every single bit of genius and drivel that pours out of the minds of hundreds of online "friends" at any and all moment of any and all day?

If you asked me to share my deepest darkest secrets on Bebo ten years ago, probably the most daring I would have gotten was to give my crush's initials, obscurely hidden amongst my list of favorite movies. Nowadays on Facebook, I'm telling the world about the intimate details of my gynecologist appointments, my irrational and embarrassing fear of balloons, how much I miss my ex even though I want to look like a badass that's touching butts and forgetting names now that he's gone, how big and uneven my boobs are, and the pièce de résistance- my almost-daily photo journal that shares every. single. meal. I consume (yeah you're welcome guys). What the actual fuck?! Who even cares about this nonsense?!! I've gone batshit crazy and it's all Mark Zuckerberg's fault. Well. Ok. It's probably my fault. Maybe.

So I've decided I'm going to start small on the road to mystery recovery and I'm going to do something really crazy and big, but I'll keep it a secret. I'll painstakingly hide away a little piece of Ruby that I'd normally excitedly announce to the whole damn world but now, no one but me and the future Mr Knight will ever know about it. I'll still continue to share my every-waking-moment thoughts and ever-useful dinner photos because, let's face it, it's kind of addictive. But I'll be living a double life, like a spy. Call me Bond, Ruby Bond. Actually that's a bit more like a porn name and that's a whole new blog story just waiting to be told...

Until next time.
Ruby xx

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