We share too much, you know. All of us. Even those of us who swear we don’t. We let it out in our behaviour. What we like. What we don’t. The pages we follow. The clothes we wear in our pictures. Our inspirational quotes. Our lack of inspirational quotes. The music we share. The things we write when we’re tired. Or emotional. Or drunk. The life we let people see. The life we let ourselves believe. It’s strange how we can convince ourselves our Facebook life is our actual life – because we want it so desperately to be. I did anyway. I found my Facebook life, where things were good and glossed
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I only have a Facebook purely for my books.
