I’m doing a Social Psych of New Media course, and have been scouring the Internet for interesting news articles about the phenomenon of social media and how it influences our behaviour. I found this article about the writer using Twitter as a coping mechanism through her late husband’s cancer. It’s beautifully written, and painful to read.
Going with this article for an assignment seems like a natural choice to me because I’m also part of a family that is fighting cancer. There are days I wish I could do this: hurl my despair at the universe, even when it ends up being one of the millions of banal details floating in the interweb.
It seems that we live in an age where nothing is private any more, and even the most intimate details about someone can be manufactured. But what is more real: the person we are as we go about our real lives, or the person we can be as we are shielded by the veil of a computer screen?
The pain on the Internet is palpable, and every cry is a cry for help.