I'd seen it before, I’d laughed at it before, I’d even sent it before, yet, there was this dying urge inside of me to see it, to laugh at it, to send it once more. It had occurred to me that maybe I was addicted, maybe I couldn’t get enough, maybe I couldn’t stop. Despite this, I continued, hour after hour, failing to remove myself from the unholy grave known as YouTube.
YouTube was supposed to be my escape, my freedom, an uncertified ritual. It seemed to remove me from the fears, the nerves, and the piling homework on my desk. YouTube was the unofficial language of fun and culture, consuming me with words, dance moves, comic sketches, literally everything.
Throughout school, it seemed like everyone was addicted. People would talk about the latest video they saw, the YouTuber with the most subscribers, or the clip of a celebrity who lip synced. It seemed almost cruel to have not watched those videos, especially when you had nothing to contribute to the conversation. It became the reason kids got an hour less of sleep, the reason their mind could not fully grasp the new concepts at school, the reason their eyes looked like two big shopping bags every morning. YouTube was the accepted drug.
Bu hikaye India Currents dergisinin September 2017 sayısından alınmıştır.
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Bu hikaye India Currents dergisinin September 2017 sayısından alınmıştır.
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Elephant and Donkey Tribes of Politics
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On Feminism
It has been eight months since I started my MFA at Bennington College. In the last eight months I have cooked half a dozen meals. I pack my children lunches and I clean up the kitchen after my husband when he makes dinner for the family after he comes home from working in a Silicon Valley tech company. Cooking has never moved me. Motherhood has—but not the baggage of social dos and don'ts that accompanied it. I have done fewer play dates than the meals I have cooked in the past few months, and I rarely go to a birthday party. My husband takes the children to their social engagements. “But is this fair?” you might ask and I answer, “It is not about fairness, it is about what moves you as a person and how to keep that flame of what keeps you alive, burning within you, while negotiating roles in an adult world that still largely favors men over women.”
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Not another invite,” I groaned, picking up a thick cream and red colored envelope.
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A Mother Loses Her Child: Fact And Fiction Coalesce
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From The Hood Without A Loo
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Life, Liberty, And The Pursuit Of Happiness
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Victoria And Abdul: It Looks A Lot Like Love
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Looters, Schemers And A Curse
Koh-i-Noor: The History of the World’s Most Infamous Diamond.