Prompt: Write a brief post about your presence on the Internet, making a reference to Virtual Revolution.

It is without a doubt that I do identify with the majority of twenty-something year old multi-hyphen digital whatnots today.

Forget Dunkin Donuts; America practically runs on 30 to 60 (80 if you’re Obama or Tom Anderson) megabytes per second of truncated bits of information across the world wide web. Our generation, as put in the movie Virtual Revolution, is growing more and more reliant on the almost unarguably superficial connections we make through different mediums within the virtual realm.

Before I talk about the specifics of my Internet presence, though, I wanted to talk about something that happened to me this past weekend. It seems relevant. I believe we’re technically not supposed to talk about the LSAT (the really long test you sit through to hopefully try and get into law school because #defend,) but I’m not actually going to talk about the test. This is about the 45 minutes I spent at the lobby of Pace University before we took it.

Cell phones are strictly prohibited at testing sites. America’s youth did our Founding Fathers proud that day because I did not see a single cellular phone that day. We (there was a lot of us) all sat there in the lobby and stared. at. each. other. Real life/actual/for realsies/no joke human interactions were had, folks. It was both refreshing and really sad. Refreshing because… well, obviously. Sad because that (and the next time I take my LSAT again) will probably be the only times I’ll ever be amidst a bunch of strangers and actually see people’s faces instead of the top of their heads. Also sad because I had to use a payphone for maybe the second time my whole life and I couldn’t make it work until I realized that you dial before you put your coins in. I’ll save this rant for some other day, though. This was my segue to how guilty I am of abandoning aforementioned real life/serendipitous interactions with complete strangers. I’ve become really dependent on the little network that I’ve built for myself with my thumbs that I don’t even remember the last time I had a real conversation with a stranger.

I have 1,371 friends on Facebook. Most of whom I personally know or have interacted with in some shape or form in real life, a bit of whom I’ve had the pleasure of working with remotely, and an even smaller bit of whom are my family. Oops. I have 333 followers on Twitter. Again, a lot of whom I know in real life. 407 on Instagram. 470 if it weren’t for the #InstaPurge. And 120 on Vine. Not that I actually use Vine.

One could infer from the information above that my virtual presence is very apparent.

Films like Virtual Revolution or even generic Buzzfeed-esque videos (as ironic as they are) that talk about the adverse effects of our excessive exposure to the web are actually very, very scary. They’re scary because we are essentially entering an era that has never been tested out on this type of change. Our generation serves as the lab rats that get “a dose of admiration via the ‘Like’ button” in little syringes; and I’m afraid I’ve acquired quite the inclination towards that shot.

(Like many folks in the film, however, I think I would still totally trade ten of my Facebook friends for a free burger.)