It's usually on Wednesdays when she'll start to fill me in on all of the upcoming parties. On Thursday, she plans out all of the outfits she'll be wearing to these parties. To get it going on Friday, she'll attend a smaller party on Thursday. She's always either going to or coming from a party. On Sunday evening she will talk about the parties and what had happened there. All this she documents, naturally, step by step, and day by day on Instagram. I'm talking about a friend of mine whose life on Instagram looks dizzyingly exciting. But all coins have two sides. Nevertheless, let's begin with the glitz.
She has a high-speed lifestyle - when she's not attending glam events or standing on a red carpet somewhere here, at home, she's either returning from yet another adventurous trip or hopping on a plane to another. Her Instagram feed is a revel of admiringly bright filters with her posing flirtingly and almost managing to grab her followers along her action-packed adventures.
We hadn't seen in a couple of months and discussed on the phone where we could drink tea and have a meal. My friend suggested we better meet at her place because she felt tired of cafes and restaurants. So over to her apartment, I went after a long time. She was waiting for me with exotic tea she had brought from one of her extraordinary travels and with even more exotic sweets. We sank each into a deep armchair, a large mug of tea at hand. The first thing she told me was that I am fortunate because I have my apartment while she has to rent one. She looked around her wonderfully furnished living room with a bitter look and sighed. She said she would like to renovate the place, but there is no point in doing that in a rented apartment.
Then she said life was sad and was getting worse from year to year. She talked and talked. She mentioned how she couldn't stand her job because everybody demands something, and she doesn't even dare to dream of a pay rise anymore. The only thing that keeps her in this job is that the current boss is a cool person and allows her to work remotely on her travels while the previous boss was a complete "creep."
I sank deeper and deeper into the armchair, and at one point, I felt baffled. After having observed my friend's happy life for the last couple of months, I couldn't put a picture together with the sad girl in the armchair opposite me and the shiny glam lady who never poses in the same dress twice. I felt like someone who was going to the cinema to watch comedy but instead finds herself attending a dark, depressing drama.
So we talked, trying to find answers to the big and small troubles of her life. I had stayed longer than planned because she needed someone to confess to, and we have always been there for each other. In the evening, she ordered food from a restaurant, set the table at a reasonable speed, and took a photo before the meal. Later, when I sat in a taxi, I felt pretty overwhelmed by her worries. I still didn't understand how my girlfriend, who was such fun on Instagram, shared so many sad stories with me. I briefly opened her Instagram to check her life and latest activities. And there she was - beautiful - in the midst of somewhere vacationing, partying, posing. No doubt happy.
And before I could close Instagram, she posted a photo of our dinner table through a perfect filter and signed, "Fun times: When a girlfriend comes over, and you chat with her through the night."
Before writing this post, I asked my girlfriend for her permission. Can I describe this evening and our conversation? She replied to me, "It doesn't matter. Anyway, no one will recognize me, and the world is full of people like me. Maybe we'll be less envied this way?"
Kolmapäeviti hakkab ta tavaliselt rääkima nädalavahetusel eelseisvatest pidudest. Neljapäeval planeerib ta kogu garderoobi üritusteks valmis. Selleks, et reedel kerge hoog sisse saada, käib ta mõnel väiksemal erapeol juba neljapäeval. Ta on alati kas peole minemas või peolt tulemas. Pühapäeva õhtul jagab ta muljeid, kuidas peod olid ja mida pöörast toimus. Seda kõike dokumenteerib ta loomulikult samm sammult ja päev päevalt läbi Instagrami. Jutt käib minu sõbrannast, kelle elu Instagramis on kadestamisväärselt põnev. Kuid igal medadil on teine pool. Aga alustagem sellest, mis rohkem särab.
Tema elustiil on hoogne – kui ta parasjagu kodumaal glamuurseid üritusi ei väisa ja punasel vaibal ei seisa, on ta kas ühelt seiklusrikkalt reisilt tulemas või järgmist planeerimas. Tema Instagrami feed on helgete filtrite pillerkaar, kus ta flirtivalt poseerib ja haarab läbi kaadrite ka jälgijad oma lõbusatesse seiklustesse.
Me polnud juba paar kuud näinud ja arutasime telefonis, kus võiksime teed juua ja eine võtta. Ta tegi ettepaneku, et kohtuksime parem tema juures, sest ta on kohvikutest ja restoranidest väsinud. Nii ma läksingi talle üle pika aja külla. Ta ootas mind eksootilise teega, mille oli ühelt oma eriliselt reisilt kaasa toonud ja veelgi eksootilisemate maiustustega. Me vajusime kumbki sügavasse tugitooli, suur kruus teed käepärast. Ta ütles mulle esimese asjana, et sul ikka veab, sest sul on oma kodu aga temal üksnes üürikorter. Ta vaatas oma imeliselt sisustatud elutoa mõru ilmega ringi ja ohkas. Ütles, et tahaks remonti teha aga üürikorteris pole mõtet midagi suurt ette võtta ja raha, et oma korter osta, lihtsalt ei ole.
Siis ütles ta, et elu on kohutavalt kurb ja läheb aasta aastalt aina hullemaks. Ta rääkis ja rääkis. Ta mainis, kuidas ta ei kannata oma töökohta, sest kõik ainult nõuavad midagi ja palgatõusu ei näe ta enam isegi unes. Ainus, mis teda selles töökohas hoiab, on see, et praegune ülemus on normaalne ja lubab tal ka reisimas käia ja nö. kaugtöd teha, sel ajal kui eelmine ülemus oli täielik "creep".
Ma ise vajusin tugitoolis aina sügavamale ja olin ühel hetkel täielikus segaduses. Olles viimased paar kuud tema lõbusat elu jälginud, ei suutnud ma panna pilti kokku selle kurva tüdrukuga, kes minu vastas tugitoolis kössitas ja selle särava glamuuritariga, kes mitte ühelgi peol samas kleidis ei poseeri. Mul oli tunne nagu inimesel, kes läheb kinno komöödiat vaatama, kuid selle asemel hakkab peale depressiivne linateos.
Nii me siis rääkisime juttu, otsisime vastuseid tema elu suurtele ja väikestele muredele. Ma olin jäänud planeeritust kauemaks, sest tema murelõng vajas lahti arutamist ja me oleme alati teineteise jaoks olemas olnud. Õhtul tellis ta restoranist toidu, kattis imetlusväärse kiirusega laua ja tegi enne sööki toidust pildi.
Kui ma õhtul taksosse istusin, olin tema muredest päris löödud. Ikkagi ei mõistnud ma, kuidas minu sedavõrd lõbus Instagrami sõbranna, jagas minuga sedavõrd palju nukraid lugusid. Ma avasin korraks tema Instagrami, et tema elu ja tegemisi vaadata. Ja seal ta oli – täies ilus – hoogsalt kuskil puhkamas, pidutsemas, poseerimas. Kahtlemata õnnelik.
Ja enne, kui ma jõudsin Instagrami sulgeda, postitas ta läbi perfektse filtri pildi meie õhtusöögilauast ning kirjutas alla: „Lõbusad ajad: kui sõbranna tuleb külla ja lobised temaga terve õhtu.”
Enne selle postituse kirjutamist küsisn oma sõbrannalt luba, kas võin omakorda seda õhtut ja meie vestlust kirjeldada? Ta vastas mulle: "Vahet pole. Nagunii ei tunne mind keegi ära ja maailm on selliseid täis. Võibolla kadestatakse meid siis vähem?""
PHOTOS: Vicko Mozara & Georgia de Lotz on Unsplash
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