Bedroom

We market our picture perfect, Facebook-savvy lives, as we navigate our fabulous body-doubles past other people’s walls, collecting friends, being successful, living the life. Online, we are happy. Online rocks. It’s Offline that sucks - as we shut our laptop, shut our Bedroom door, rest our head on our pillow and sink into the familiar discomfort of being our unattractive, unaccomplished, pitiful selves. This is the allegorical “Bedroom” – our most private space where we retire to, night after night. Where we let our guards down and dare to be at our ugliest worst. We market our picture perfect, Facebook-savvy lives, as we navigate our fabulous body-doubles past other people’s walls, collecting friends, being successful, living the life. Online, we are happy. Online rocks. It’s Offline that sucks - as we shut our laptop, shut our Bedroom door, rest our head on our pillow and sink into the familiar discomfort of being our unattractive, unaccomplished, pitiful selves. This is the allegorical “Bedroom” – our most private space where we retire to, night after night. Where we let our guards down and dare to be at our ugliest worst. We market our picture perfect, Facebook-savvy lives, as we navigate our fabulous body-doubles past other people’s walls, collecting friends, being successful, living the life. Online, we are happy. Online rocks. It’s Offline that sucks - as we shut our laptop, shut our Bedroom door, rest our head on our pillow and sink into the familiar discomfort of being our unattractive, unaccomplished, pitiful selves. This is the allegorical “Bedroom” – our most private space where we retire to, night after night. Where we let our guards down and dare to be at our ugliest worst. We market our picture perfect, Facebook-savvy lives, as we navigate our fabulous body-doubles past other people’s walls, collecting friends, being successful, living the life. Online, we are happy. Online rocks. It’s Offline that sucks - as we shut our laptop, shut our Bedroom door, rest our head on our pillow and sink into the familiar discomfort of being our unattractive, unaccomplished, pitiful selves. This is the allegorical “Bedroom” – our most private space where we retire to, night after night. Where we let our guards down and dare to be at our ugliest worst.