PubliCurtain

There are things between one’s front door and garden that deserve protection.
People picking their nose, waving wildly while on the phone, or simply reading in an armchair usually prefer these moments to remain unseen.
The same goes for intimacy, arguments, fear, sadness, or depression – the everyday choreography of being human.
And so the curtain, the door, the blinds became noble guardians of life’s dignity.

The beauty of the private.

That was then.
Before social media.

In the 21st century, curtains have become symbols of bourgeois suspicion.
People without curtains are open. People with curtains? “They must be hiding something.”
Life now unfolds on a four-inch screen.
Every impressive moment is photographed – usually without meaning.
Every irrelevant event gets posted.

Why, for heaven’s sake, do we need a photo of a restaurant plate covered in food before anyone takes a bite?
And what’s the point of posting your half-naked body to millions of strangers?
Who’s watching – and why?

“Hey, pull back the curtain! I want the whole world to see my private life.”

How must it feel for an ordinary young person to live under the constant pressure to post their life?
Why the pressure?
Because social media isn’t just addictive – it’s exhausting.
Not only for those posting, but for the rest of us too.

Our minds drown in a flood of fast images and meaningless clips.
Quiet moments? Reflection? Contemplation?
What the heck are those?

Tap by tap, the apps demand our eyes, our minds, our full attention –
and our thumbs, always swiping for the next piece of … whatever.
Imagine how bored the brain must be.

These bite-sized digital snacks barely nourish thought.
They ask for nothing but attention.
How numbing is that?

A constant drizzle of mediocrity dulls curiosity.
Yes, it’s comfortable to be spoon-fed.
But the mind doesn’t want comfort – it wants to think, to decide, to invent, to explore.
To be alive.
Privately. Independently.

The endless self-publishing of one’s life without a curtain is nerve-racking, stressful, and, ultimately, boring.
The private, personal mind, however, is a playground of infinite creativity –
rarely dull, always original.

Especially when it’s thinking.