’s salsa hits in the backyard and kids ran around the driveway playing tag, I announced the most awesome idea: “Let's make a zombie movie!” All the children agreed. With our semi-bulky 1990s camcorder, we shot our mini movie in sequence of events. I, then 12 years old, directed one of the 5-year-olds to growl and walk slow enough to match the gait of an infected zombie.
I used to love social media. It was a digital space where I could learn, make art, educate, and build community around shared interests. I was a prettywhat was creative, fun, instructive, and communal into endless ads, product placements, and user-generated content created to gain the attention, and capital, of brands. Everything, from brunch with friends to home renovations, feels so deliberately and highly produced. And it’s exhausting.
Fast forward more than a decade later, I have 24 thousand followers on Instagram and have never felt more alone, at least online. And my feelings of loneliness aren't unique. According to a 2017 study published in the American Journal of Preventive Medicine, more social media usage is actually linked with.
But that’s the sneaky thing about capitalism: it's really good at sensing genuine talent, art, or community and transforming it into an energy-sucking money machine. The capitalist reconstruction of social media can make us money, but it depletes us of everything else. And sometimes it happens without us even realizing it. Capitalism has turned some of my online faves into company spokespeople or brand ambassadors.