singing the blues and why the smartphone as ruined my life

*wakes up*

*checks texts*

*checks Twitter*

*checks Instagram*

*checks other Twitter account*

*checks Facebook*

*checks Snapchat*

*checks Email*

*checks Twitter again*

*gets out of bed*

I deleted my Facebook, and am currently trying to work up the courage to delete my Twitter and Instagram (in the mean time, they're both just going to sit there collecting dust). I'm not the type of person that allows *inspirational quotes* to define me, or affect me - for the most part I laugh them off. A few days ago a Facebook friend posted this quote that basically said (I don't remember the exact quote) "are you existing, or are you living?". It immediately got under my skin. I am existing. existing. ex.is.ting. I stopped doing things I loved and started spending way too much documenting things that don't matter. Twenty years ago is anyone going to give a fuck that I was funny on Twitter? Are my grandchildren going to care that I perfectly edited a Sunday Selfie on Afterlight and posted to Instagram? They're going to want to hear stories and it scares the shit out of me that I might not have any to tell them. 

For whatever reason, I completely gave up on everything I loved. I don't paint anymore. It's been ages since I've thrifted. I haven't taken any photos with my ACTUAL camera in ages. I don't remember the last time I actually went camping. When was the last time I went on an actual adventure? I use to love going to random local shows. I LOVE blogging. My ability to procrastinate has left me feeling lifeless. I'm alive. I'm breathing. But I am not living.

I'm hoping with me going AWOL on most of my social media will let me realize how much time I actually do have after work. The thought of not making memories is causing me massive anxiety.