The problem with this picture-obsessed age is that hardly a true character can be discovered. All we see are facades of fancy, fragments of life’s shallow vanity. The essential nature, the innermost thoughts, the troubling ferment swirling within, lies hidden behind a mosaic of ephemeral smiles – the world needs only to know of the merry lives we are leading. Often too, we worry about our privacy, but, in truth, so little has been revealed. All that others can know are of the places to which we have been, the food we have tasted, the friends we have met, the adventures we have gone on but nothing of ourselves. In fact, it might just be dangerous if people, having scrolled through all your pictures, conceives of you a very different character from the one you actually are.