Pretty soon I'm going to be so irked that I may have to write an article "Death of the Individual: How Countless Pseudo-spiritual Personal Essays on Transcending Social Platforms Reaffirms the Utter Banality of the Human Psyche"
Better idea: Change your name to Wallace F. Davidson, write this same article but in novel form, publish it under the title "Infinite Mess", become best-selling author, send me a check for $200,000 when you become a millionaire.