Instastuff

I’ve done something in the last few days that I’m not very proud of. But it was something I had to do, that several people suggested I do, that I didn’t even need that they suggested I do, but so I did. I activated an account on Instagram.

It’s an account that I will use only for professional purposes, to try to tell what I do, and how I do it, at work. It will go hand in hand with my professional page and my LinkedIn account. Instagram will never mix with this blog; it will never overlap with my personal stuff; it will never integrate the things I write here—at most, it will be the opposite, if I find them interesting to share here too.

This is the entry post; the original is in Italian:

Let’s set the record straight: I don’t like Instagram. And I don’t like social networks in general. It’s not a matter of taste, maybe even: it’s because of the content, often false and artificial, because of the culture of perfection and the religion of appreciation.

I don’t like Meta’s privacy management and the commercialization of our data. In short, we don’t get along. I had an account years ago, but I deleted it a lifetime ago.

But you have to be on Instagram, they told me, until I was exhausted. And I was exhausted.

So, hoping to collect interesting content with no little embarrassment but always engaging, here I am.

Let me suffer.