Every device has a camera. Our meals strike a pose. Coffees cool waiting to be sipped while we choose the best filter for an Instagram post. When chatting with friends, we don’t mean on the porch in front of the house.

We express our feelings, not in the privacy of a notebook or a diary, but in 140 characters or less; or worse — typed on Facebook. Our locations are always known to the world. “Checking in” used to only be constrained to hotels and worried mothers. Activities are live-tweeted, and pictures — or it didn’t actually happen. No, really.

Nothing, it seems, is personal anymore. Nothing left to the imagination. Nothing left kept to ourself.

I remember summers as a young boy daydreaming about what my crush might be doing throughout the day, hands trembling at the thought of picking up the phone to call — only to have her dad answer.

If I were a child in todays day and age, I would know exactly what my crush was up to —standing in front of a mirror, lips pursed like a duck.

I’m not trying to make an argument against technology or social media. I guess I just want to know where all the secrets have gone?

 

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