By DIYA VASUDEVAN<\/p>\n
I remember that, as a child, my mother would often chide me about the lack of filtration in the comments I made and the stories I told. There were no boundaries; I was a brutally honest child — and a loud one, too. Nothing that happened in the family stayed in the family. They often suffered the consequences of what they called my “verbal diarrhea.”<\/p>\n
As I got older, though, I’d like to think I figured out what I should and should not say depending on the situation. However, there were times that I slipped up in a big way and was only lucky that spoken words weren’t lamented like the ones we let loose on the Internet. Media forums such as Facebook and Twitter <\/a>have made it infinitely easier to express\u00a0our opinions for the world to see and I learned the hard way that once it’s out there, there’s no taking it back.<\/p>\n \n \n So, when at 19 my Dad questioned why I didn’t have a Twitter<\/a> account, I laughed and looked at him incredulously, “Do you really think Twitter is the best tool for someone who has to consciously remind herself\u00a0of what she can and cannot share with the public?” At which he replied that he simply used Twitter for his work and perhaps I could use it in the same way.<\/p>\n \n \n The truth is that a social media forum such as Twitter terrifies me, the number of times celebrities get hauled up for their tweets or accidentally send out a nude picture for all of two seconds someone out there catches them and, like I said before, it’s words or nude images they can’t ever take back.<\/p>\n \n \n Twitter is essentially used to capture what you’re doing thinking or feeling in that moment in 140 characters or less. Often times when things are said in the moment they aren’t fully thought through, and these words can be read by future employers, college professors, colleagues and friends and can potentially hinder your future. We have to be careful about what we do and do not post on the Internet and Twitter does not help.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" By DIYA VASUDEVAN I remember that, as a child, my mother would often chide me about the lack of filtration in the comments I made and the stories I told. There were no boundaries; I was a brutally honest child … Continue reading