Put on whatever makes you attractive.

The pictures. They're everywhere. They have become our identity, no longer moving beings, but perfect photo-shopped pictures. No longer artistic, but rather a stamp, to label us, to allow us to hide behind one single moment, that was most likely in itself artificial. Beneath the typed words, the silence, the picture, hides a human being with the same repulsive habits as you our I, with the same tragedies, and lies, love and deceit. Ode to the internet age, a generation hiding behind a manipulated world.